previous day and my feats of jumping placed me upon a high pinnacle
in their regard. Evidently devoid of all the finer sentiments of
friendship, love, or affection, these people fairly worship physical
prowess and bravery, and nothing is too good for the object of their
adoration as long as he maintains his position by repeated examples
of his skill, strength, and courage.

Sola, who had accompanied the searching party of her own volition,
was the only one of the Martians whose face had not been twisted in
laughter as I battled for my life. She, on the contrary, was sober
with apparent solicitude and, as soon as I had finished the monster,
rushed to me and carefully examined my body for possible wounds or
injuries. Satisfying herself that I had come off unscathed she
smiled quietly, and, taking my hand, started toward the door of
the chamber.

Tars Tarkas and the other warriors had entered and were standing
over the now rapidly reviving brute which had saved my life, and
whose life I, in turn, had rescued. They seemed to be deep in
argument, and finally one of them addressed me, but remembering
my ignorance of his language turned back to Tars Tarkas, who, with
a word and gesture, gave some command to the fellow and turned to
follow us from the room.

There seemed something menacing in their attitude toward my beast,
and I hesitated to leave until I had learned the outcome. It was
well I did so, for the warrior drew an evil looking pistol from its
holster and was on the point of putting an end to the creature when
I sprang forward and struck up his arm. The bullet striking the
wooden casing of the window exploded, blowing a hole completely