He could not use his short-sword to advantage because I was too
close to him, nor could he draw his pistol, which he attempted to do
in direct opposition to Martian custom which says that you may not
fight a fellow warrior in private combat with any other than the
weapon with which you are attacked. In fact he could do nothing but
make a wild and futile attempt to dislodge me. With all his immense
bulk he was little if any stronger than I, and it was but the matter
of a moment or two before he sank, bleeding and lifeless, to the
floor.

Dejah Thoris had raised herself upon one elbow and was watching the
battle with wide, staring eyes. When I had regained my feet I
raised her in my arms and bore her to one of the benches at the side
of the room.

Again no Martian interfered with me, and tearing a piece of silk
from my cape I endeavored to staunch the flow of blood from her
nostrils. I was soon successful as her injuries amounted to little
more than an ordinary nosebleed, and when she could speak she placed
her hand upon my arm and looking up into my eyes, said:

"Why did you do it? You who refused me even friendly recognition in
the first hour of my peril! And now you risk your life and kill one
of your companions for my sake. I cannot understand. What strange
manner of man are you, that you consort with the green men, though
your form is that of my race, while your color is little darker than
that of the white ape? Tell me, are you human, or are you more than
human?"

"It is a strange tale," I replied, "too long to attempt to tell you