man I killed. In truth, I was a Martian chieftain, and this I
learned later was the cause of my great freedom and my toleration
in the audience chamber.

As I had turned to receive the dead warrior's chattels I had
noticed that Tars Tarkas and several others had pushed forward
toward us, and the eyes of the former rested upon me in a most
quizzical manner. Finally he addressed me:

"You speak the tongue of Barsoom quite readily for one who was deaf
and dumb to us a few short days ago. Where did you learn it, John
Carter?"

"You, yourself, are responsible, Tars Tarkas," I replied, "in that
you furnished me with an instructress of remarkable ability; I have
to thank Sola for my learning."

"She has done well," he answered, "but your education in other
respects needs considerable polish. Do you know what your
unprecedented temerity would have cost you had you failed to
kill either of the two chieftains whose metal you now wear?"

"I presume that that one whom I had failed to kill, would have
killed me," I answered, smiling.

"No, you are wrong. Only in the last extremity of self-defense
would a Martian warrior kill a prisoner; we like to save them for
other purposes," and his face bespoke possibilities that were not
pleasant to dwell upon.