A　PRINCESS　OF　MARS
  by　Edgar　Rice　Burroughs
  CHAPTER　I
  ON　THE　ARIZONA　HILLS
  I　am　a　very　old　man；　how　old　I　do　not　know。　　Possibly　I　am
  a　hundred；　possibly　more；　but　I　cannot　tell　because　I　have
  never　aged　as　other　men；　nor　do　I　remember　any　childhood。
  So　far　as　I　can　recollect　I　have　always　been　a　man；　a　man
  of　about　thirty。　　I　appear　today　as　I　did　forty　years　and
  more　ago；　and　yet　I　feel　that　I　cannot　go　on　living　forever；
  that　some　day　I　shall　die　the　real　death　from　which　there　is
  no　resurrection。　　I　do　not　know　why　I　should　fear　death；
  I　who　have　died　twice　and　am　still　alive；　but　yet　I　have　the
  same　horror　of　it　as　you　who　have　never　died；　and　it　is
  because　of　this　terror　of　death；　I　believe；　that　I　am　so
  convinced　of　my　mortality。
  And　because　of　this　conviction　I　have　determined　to　write
  down　the　story　of　the　interesting　periods　of　my　life　and　of
  my　death。　　I　cannot　explain　the　phenomena；I　can　only　set
  down　here　in　the　words　of　an　ordinary　soldier　of　fortune　a
  chronicle　of　the　strange　events　that　befell　me　during　the　ten
  years　that　my　dead　body　lay　undiscovered　in　an　Arizona
  cave。
  I　have　never　told　this　story；　nor　shall　mortal　man　see　this
  manuscript　until　after　I　have　passed　over　for　eternity。　　I　know
  that　the　average　human　mind　will　not　believe　what　it　cannot
  grasp；　and　so　I　do　not　purpose　being　pilloried　by　the　public；
  the　pulpit；　and　the　press；　and　held　up　as　a　colossal
  liar　when　I　am　but　telling　the　simple　truths　which　some　day
  science　will　substantiate。　　Possibly　the　suggestions　which　I
  gained　upon　Mars；　and　the　knowledge　which　I　can　set　down
  in　this　chronicle；　will　aid　in　an　earlier　understanding　of　the
  mysteries　of　our　sister　planet；　mysteries　to　you；　but　no
  longer　mysteries　to　me。
  My　name　is　John　Carter；　I　am　better　known　as　Captain　Jack
  Carter　of　Virginia。　　At　the　close　of　the　Civil　War　I　found
  myself　possessed　of　several　hundred　thousand　dollars
  （Confederate）　and　a　captain's　commission　in　the　cavalry　arm
  of　an　army　which　no　longer　existed；　the　servant　of　a　state
  which　had　vanished　with　the　hopes　of　the　South。　　Masterless；
  penniless；　and　with　my　only　means　of　livelihood；　fighting；
  gone；　I　determined　to　work　my　way　to　the　southwest　and
  attempt　to　retrieve　my　fallen　fortunes　in　a　search　for　gold。
  I　spent　nearly　a　year　prospecting　in　company　with　another
  Confederate　officer；　Captain　James　K。　Powell　of　Richmond。
  We　were　extremely　fortunate；　for　late　in　the　winter　of
  1865；　after　many　hardships　and　privations；　we　located　the
  most　remarkable　gold…bearing　quartz　vein　that　our　wildest
  dreams　had　ever　pictured。　　Powell；　who　was　a　mining　engineer
  by　education；　stated　that　we　had　uncovered　over　a　million
  dollars　worth　of　ore　in　a　trifle　over　three　months。
  As　our　equipment　was　crude　in　the　extreme　we　decided
  that　one　of　us　must　return　to　civilization；　purchase　the
  necessary　machinery　and　return　with　a　sufficient　force　of
  men　properly　to　work　the　mine。
  As　Powell　was　familiar　with　the　country；　as　well　as　with
  the　mechanical　requirements　of　mining　we　determined　that
  it　would　be　best　for　him　to　make　the　trip。　　It　was　agreed　that
  I　was　to　hold　down　our　claim　against　the　remote　possibility
  of　its　being　jumped　by　some　wandering　prospector。
  On　March　3；　1866；　Powell　and　I　packed　his　provisions　on
  two　of　our　burros；　and　bidding　me　good…bye　he　mounted
  his　horse；　and　started　down　the　mountainside　toward　the
  valley；　across　which　led　the　first　stage　of　his　journey。
  The　morning　of　Powell's　departure　was；　like　nearly
  all　Arizona　mornings；　clear　and　beautiful；　I　could　see
  him　and　his　little　pack　animals　picking　their　way　down　the
  mountainside　toward　the　valley；　and　all　during　the　morning　I
  would　catch　occasional　glimpses　of　them　as　they　topped　a　hog
  back　or　came　out　upon　a　level　plateau。　　My　last　sight　of
  Powell　was　about　three　in　the　afternoon　as　he　entered　the
  shadows　of　the　range　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　valley。
  Some　half　hour　later　I　happened　to　glance　casually　across
  the　valley　and　was　much　surprised　to　note　three　little　dots
  in　about　the　same　place　I　had　last　seen　my　friend　and　his
  two　pack　animals。　　I　am　not　given　to　needless　worrying；　but
  the　more　I　tried　to　convince　myself　that　all　was　well　with
  Powell；　and　that　the　dots　I　had　seen　on　his　trail　were
  antelope　or　wild　horses；　the　less　I　was　able　to　assure　myself。
  Since　we　had　entered　the　territory　we　had　not　seen　a
  hostile　Indian；　and　we　had；　therefore；　become　careless　in　the
  extreme；　and　were　wont　to　ridicule　the　stories　we　had
  heard　of　the　great　numbers　of　these　vicious　marauders　that
  were　supposed　to　haunt　the　trails；　taking　their　toll　in　lives
  and　torture　of　every　white　party　which　fell　into　their
  merciless　clutches。
  Powell；　I　knew；　was　well　armed　and；　further；　an
  experienced　Indian　fighter；　but　I　too　had　lived　and　fought
  for　years　among　the　Sioux　in　the　North；　and　I　knew　that　his
  chances　were　small　against　a　party　of　cunning　trailing
  Apaches。　　Finally　I　could　endure　the　suspense　no　longer；
  and；　arming　myself　with　my　two　Colt　revolvers　and　a
  carbine；　I　strapped　two　belts　of　cartridges　about　me　and
  catching　my　saddle　horse；　started　down　the　trail　taken　by
  Powell　in　the　morning。
  As　soon　as　I　reached　comparatively　level　ground　I　urged
  my　mount　into　a　canter　and　continued　this；　where　the　going
  permitted；　until；　close　upon　dusk；　I　discovered　the　point
  where　other　tracks　joined　those　of　Powell。　　They　were　the
  tracks　of　unshod　ponies；　three　of　them；　and　the　ponies　had
  been　galloping。
  I　followed　rapidly　until；　darkness　shutting　down；　I　was
  forced　to　await　the　rising　of　the　moon；　and　given　an　opportunity
  to　speculate　on　the　question　of　the　wisdom　of　my　chase。
  Possibly　I　had　conjured　up　impossible　dangers；　like
  some　nervous　old　housewife；　and　when　I　should　catch　up
  with　Powell　would　get　a　good　laugh　for　my　pains。
  However；　I　am　not　prone　to　sensitiveness；　and　the　following
  of　a　sense　of　duty；　wherever　it　may　lead；　has　always　been　a
  kind　of　fetich　with　me　throughout　my　life；　which　may　account
  for　the　honors　bestowed　upon　me　by　three　republics　and　the
  decorations　and　friendships　of　an　old　and　powerful　emperor
  and　several　lesser　kings；　in　whose　service　my　sword　has
  been　red　many　a　time。
  About　nine　o'clock　the　moon　was　sufficiently　bright　for
  me　to　proceed　on　my　way　and　I　had　no　difficulty　in　following
  the　trail　at　a　fast　walk；　and　in　some　places　at　a　brisk
  trot　until；　about　midnight；　I　reached　the　water　hole　where
  Powell　had　expected　to　camp。　　I　came　upon　the　spot　unexpectedly；
  finding　it　entirely　deserted；　with　no　signs　of　having　been
  recently　occupied　as　a　camp。
  I　was　interested　to　note　that　the　tracks　of　the　pursuing
  horsemen；　for　such　I　was　now　convinced　they　must　be；　continued
  after　Powell　with　only　a　brief　stop　at　the　hole　for　water；
  and　always　at　the　same　rate　of　speed　as　his。
  I　was　positive　now　that　the　trailers　were　Apaches　and　that
  they　wished　to　capture　Powell　alive　for　the　fiendish　pleasure
  of　the　torture；　so　I　urged　my　horse　onward　at　a　most
  dangerous　pace；　hoping　against　hope　that　I　would　catch　up
  with　the　red　rascals　before　they　attacked　him。
  Further　speculation　was　suddenly　cut　short　by　the　faint
  report　of　two　shots　far　ahead　of　me。　　I　knew　that　Powell
  would　need　me　now　if　ever；　and　I　instantly　urged　my
  horse　to　his　topmost　speed　up　the　narrow　and　difficult
  mountain　trail。
  I　had　forged　ahead　for　perhaps　a　mile　or　more　without
  hearing　further　sounds；　when　the　trail　suddenly　debouched
  onto　a　small；　open　plateau　near　the　summit　of　the　pass。　　I
  had　passed　through　a　narrow；　overhanging　gorge　just　before
  entering　suddenly　upon　this　table　land；　and　the　sight　which
  met　my　eyes　filled　me　with　consternation　and　dismay。
  The　little　stretch　of　level　land　was　white　with　Indian
  tepees；　and　there　were　probably　half　a　thousand　red　warriors
  clustered　around　some　object　near　the　center　of　the　camp。
  Their　attention　was　so　wholly　riveted　to　this　point　of　interest
  that　they　did　not　notice　me；　and　I　easily　could　have
  turned　back　into　the　dark　recesses　of　the　gorge　and　made
  my　escape　with　perfect　safety。　　The　fact；　however；　that　this
  thought　did　not　occur　to　me　until　the　following　day　removes
  any　possible　right　to　a　claim　to　heroism　to　which　the　narration
  of　this　episode　might　possibly　otherwise　entitle　me。
  I　do　not　believe　that　I　am　made　of　the　stuff　which
  constitutes　heroes；　because；　in　all　of　the　hundreds　of　instances
  that　my　voluntary　acts　have　placed　me　face　to　face　with
  death；　I　cannot　recall　a　single　one　where　any　alternative
  step　to　that　I　took　occurred　to　me　until　many　hours　later。
  My　mind　is　evidently　so　constituted　that　I　am　subconsciously
  forced　into　the　path　of　duty　without　recourse　to　tiresome
  mental　processes。　　However　that　may　be；　I　have　never　regretted
  that　cowardice　is　not　optional　with　me。