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    A Princess of Mars
    A Princess of Mars
    A Princess of Mars
    Ebook247 pages4 hours

    A Princess of Mars

    By Edgar Rice Burroughs

    3.5/5

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    Transported to Mars, a Civil War veteran fights to rescue a princess in this classic science fiction adventure story from the creator of Tarzan

    Prospecting in the mountains of Arizona, John Carter is attacked by Apache warriors. Cornered in a cave, he thinks his life is finished, but when he emerges, the Apache are nowhere to be seen and the landscape is like nothing on Earth. John Carter has been transported to Mars—and the universe will never be the same.
     
    The shift in gravity gives Carter superhuman powers of strength, speed, and agility. On Earth, he was but a man. On Mars, he is a god. And he will need all the power he can muster, for the red planet—called Barsoom by its inhabitants—is in the grips of its own civil war. To save the legendary Princess Dejah Thoris, Carter must defeat legions of giant, four-armed green barbarians and travel thousands of miles across a landscape populated with monstrous flora and fauna.
     
    The first volume in Edgar Rice Burroughs’s beloved Barsoom series, A Princess for Mars is one of the wildest and most imaginative tales ever told.
     
    This ebook has been professionally proofread to ensure accuracy and readability on all devices.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherOpen Road Media
    Release dateFeb 9, 2016
    ISBN9781504033886
    Author

    Edgar Rice Burroughs

    American writer Edgar Rice Burroughs (1875 - 1950) worked many odd jobs before professionally writing. Burroughs did not start writing until he was in his late 30s while working at a pencil-sharpener wholesaler. But after following his call to writing, Burroughs created one of America's most enduring adventure heroes: Tarzan. Along with his novels about Tarzan, Burroughs wrote the notable Barsoom series, which follows the Mars adventurer John Carter.

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    Reviews for A Princess of Mars

    3.5/5

    1,147 ratings87 reviews

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    • 4/5
      Ignoring the fact that we've disproved some of the myths of "Mars," actually quite a good read.
    • 3/5
      Who did I see describing this as "old school, pulpy goodness"? I think that works pretty well. I'm not sure how I'm going to relate this to Herland in my SF/F essay, but I'm thinking on it... Obviously there's a ton of colonial, North American stuff going on here, wherein a white man from Earth comes and suspiciously saves a red-skinned princess and reforms the Martian societies to good American values...But it's still sort of fun, and not a chore to read: the prose is straight-forward and not too crammed with infodumps, and I did get sort of fond of one or two characters, mostly Sola (perhaps because she was "civilised" and relateable before the Great White Man's intervention). No real surprises here, and I don't think I'll be in a hurry to read other Barsoom books, but it's enjoyable in its way.
    • 3/5
      Pulp fiction at its apex. A western in spaceship clothing.
    • 4/5
      A completely new World. John Carter finds himself on Mars, locally called Barsoom, and meets many dangers and adventures there.
      It reads like the Tarzan books. If you like them, you'll like this one too. It is no high literature, but a good read.
    • 5/5
      I read this book at the age of eleven, and couldn't stop reading until I had read all eleven books of the series. Aged fifty-four now, I still remember my fascination. This book launched a lifetime of reading sci fi and fantasy. At a young age I would have given the book six stars. Now, it has too little complexity and meaning to warrant five, though it is still a great adventure story. But were I at that young age again, I am certain I would again give it the maximum score, and on that basis, and with a fond memory, I rate the book five stars.The paperbacks I read had no illustrations. This edition illustrated by David Burton is really wonderful.
    • 4/5
      Though seemingly far fetched from today's viewpoint it is an excellent adventure story.
    • 4/5
      A very curious book. If I had read anything by Burroughs in the past, I don't recall. I would have remembered reading A Princess of Mars, though. For a book that was written nearly one hundred years ago (1911, I believe), Mr. Burroughs certainly had the physics worked out to a tee -- except for, perhaps that out-of-body, interplanetary-travel thing (a violation so bad that they should have revoked his literary license). I mean, REALLY! Cavorite has more plausibility. I was troubled by the consistency of impossible-problem-encountered, problem-overcome, although current-day movies tend to follow that same sort of monotony, but I enjoyed the sheer variety of issues and solutions that Burroughs packed into the book. I'll definitely be reading more.
    • 4/5
      The first in the John Carter series, this book is a very quick, entertaining read.Mr. Carter seems to be about thirty, but his true age is unknown. When he hides from his pursuers in the back of a dark cave, he’s suddenly and unexpectedly transported to Mars. This book covers his initial encounters with the strange Martian “humans” and his romance with his true love, the inimitable Dajah Thoris, the princess of the title.Author Burroughs never pretended to be anything but a writer of pulp action stories. Thank goodness he excelled at his chosen field. The John Carter books have had an enormous influence on sci-fi thrillers over the years, and reading them is both entertaining and informative about how the genre started.Not every book has to be deep, meaningful, and important. Sometimes a reader just wants to have fun, and this book provides plenty of that.
    • 4/5
      An easy read, John Carter's perfection is only a mild annoyance. I see why it is pulp, and fantasy and science fiction. It was fun, and that's all. I love Sola the best.
    • 4/5
      An American man is mystically transported to Mars; there, he falls in love with a beautiful princess and must fight to win her.First published in 1912 as a six-part serial adventure, this book holds up very well. Burroughs writes simply and elegantly; the book is fun, exciting, and very readable. It often enters the realm of melodrama, and the world is not, perhaps, as well-developed as modern readers have come to expect, but it's a rewarding read nonetheless. There's always something interesting going on, and the ending is just the sort of romantic cliffhanger that Burroughs excels at. When I first read this, I was more than eager to get my hands on the next volume so I could make sure everything turned out all right.It's important to remember that this book comes from a time when science fiction was about romance and adventure rather than technology and ideas; it's quite a bit lighter than modern fare, and this might put some readers off. However, those who enjoy quick, purely entertaining reads should get a big kick out of it. I know I did.
    • 2/5
      Have read all of this series ( 11 books ) several times. Pure no brainers and a pleasure to read. Good guy versus bad guys and the good guy always wins, gets the girl and sometimes the bad guys are converted.
    • 5/5
      Written in 1912 this classic still carries much weight today. I am on a "classic" kick right now. Wells, Doyle, Howard and this was just what the doctor ordered. Classic stuff from this classic writter
    • 3/5
      Written in 1911, "A Princess of Mars" becomes Burrough's first novel in the Martian series.It is a fast-paced SF/adventure novel which features Captain John Carter of the U.S. Confederate Army who is mysteriously transferred to Mars from a Nevada cave after being chased by wild Indians. Having superior fighting skills and agility than his Martian warriors, John Carter soon becomes one of the key commanders in the Green Martian army. The Martian society is divided into several feuding parties (the most important - Green Martians and Red Martians). It is an equivalent of ancient Sparta or war stricken Iraq of today where military skills, discipline, brutality and heroism permeate all pores of society.Since the Green Martians don't know what friendship or mercy mean, they are often troubled by John Carter's display of similar traits. Further, they don't know what the real family is. Their babies were hatched from eggs and then taken care by the community. John Carter's encounter with Dejah Thoris, a beautiful Princess of Red Martians (now captured by the Green Martians and sentenced to death) is a turning point for John. Now, he must decide whether to switch his alliance from the Green Martians to the Red ones. Not only does the Princess Dejah Thoris look as a woman from the Planet Earth, she also harbors the same emotions as John - empathy, love, friendship, mercy...It's not surprising then that John (now stricken by love for beautiful Princess) decides to free her from her captors. This was eventually done after so many misfortunes, bloody fights and surprising twists in the story.In conclusion, this book is neither a masterpiece nor a trashy novel of pulp fiction. The author truly captured my imagination by his crafty story-telling which convincingly defines what a true adventure/SF novel is supposed to be.
    • 5/5
      A Princess of Mars follows the adventures of John Carter, Gentleman of VIrginia, when he finds himself on the surface of Mars. He is held prisioner by green martians, but falls in love with another prisoner, an red woman named Dejah Thoris. He saves her many times, and his love for her grows. They are seperated later, and John worries he will never see her again, or worse, that she is dead.
    • 2/5
      This book is a science fiction adventure. It is filled with combat and a romance. The story line is interesting but the plausibility of the actions of the characters is poor. This book is appropriate for a young reader as it is without any significant meaning and is merely entertaining.
    • 5/5
      There are reasons why the story of John Carter, gentleman of Virginia and his high adventure on a strange world, has served as either a major influence of, or had its premise more or less rehashed, in countless forms and in several entertainment genres (novels, comics, movies, etc.)It is fun! It is strange! It shouts to the restless spirit in us all! Best of all, it is a timeless sci-fi story which resonates with us without feeling dated at all (as some later generations of the genre quickly become).John Carter's transportation to Mars, and the great power this event bestows upon him, echoes our yearnings to have the power to change our own situations in life. Some so called "sophisticated" readers may call this story overly reader-gratifying in its (I'll admit sometimes ridiculous) confluence of propitious events, which propel John Carter to the highest honors and happiness to which any man of two worlds could aspire. I think readers should not get wrapped up in this attribute (which really was necessary given the time and nature of the work's publication), but rather appreciate the feelings and hopes that these events and Carter's values, powerfully, bring out in us.Besides the fantastic adventure and gripping plot line, I also particularly enjoy the amoral standpoint that Burroughs takes. Many events (**spoiler alert**), such as the destruction of Zodanga, are quite morally ambiguous, especially given John Carter's strict honor code. Yet Burroughs doesn't let his story be hampered or slowed by a more textbook plot element. This accelerates the action satisfyingly and at the same time highlights the stark contrast of morality on a dying world from that of Earth.This book is a combination of pure fun and some great literary elements, I highly recommend it!
    • 4/5
      The beginning was a little hard to get through, since it read very much like an old Western. It got better, however, and I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed the book despite the shortcomings. The language was a little hard to get used to, simply because it sounded very pompous. Aside from that, I soon found myself quite engrossed in the book. It does tend to be chauvinistic, yet that can be expected from a white male writing at the turn of 20th century. I found Burroughs' vision of Mars quite refreshing, and either he borrowed something from earlier writers, or quite a few later writers borrowed their ideas of Mars from this very book. Some of the technology was quite amusing, since it showed a very close-minded look at the world; other technology was quite forward-thinking. What disappointed me the most was the ending. It felt very "Umm, I need to finish this book, so why don't I slap together a chapter or two that brings the story to an unbelievable climax, and then leave the reader hanging." It was akin to a children's fairy tale ending in "And they lived happily ever after for 10 years, at which point the evil step-mother returned and gave the princess a poisoned apple. The end." Aside from that, however, I think the book was pretty good.
    • 3/5
      While an imaginative sci-fi adventure, the book does not hold up well by today's standards, particularly due to its plodding pace. When the action finally kicks in, the author often briefly skims through the details, where epic sword fights are boiled down to a few sentences. Unfortunately, the story is also hindered by one-dimensional characters and straightforward dialog. Otherwise, credit should be given for the sheer innovative imagination of a Virginian soldier transported to Mars and given superhuman powers in the weak atmosphere of the planet, decades before "Avatar" mined similar territory. THe illustrations are also very nice and classic, but this book is best appreciated by minors.
    • 4/5
      Each of Burrough's Barsoom books have weak and strong points. Although I may have enjoyed some more than others, aspects of them dragged them down. Some have worse editorial work. Some may be better written technically, but are formulaic. They are all straightforward adventure books. The superman hero John Carter uses brain and brawn to fight and win a series of increasingly difficult battles in order to achieve his goal. In this book (as in the first 3) his goal is to save his beloved, the beautiful Princess Deja Thoris. This series is the basis behind much of modern storytelling - the influences on Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon are clear, as well as the early comic book superheroes and most modern summer blockbusters. James Bond, Star Wars, Indiana Jones and other films certainly follow this style.The story is relentlessly forward moving, like the rail shooter video games or a roller coaster. There is only one way the story can go and the reader is propelled along it. Each book introduces new exotic locales, new exotically beautiful damsels, new horrific beasts. His characters are noble or villains.On the science fiction front, Burroughs tries to maintain a rationale behind Carter's superman abilities as well as the world environment he is thrust into. Whether the rationale holds to deeper scrutiny is irrelevant, it was a good enough reason for contemporary audiences and provided a framework to build a story on. There are fantastic elements, such as telepathic control of animals and the mysterious way John Carter is transported between worlds. There are flying battleships and mounted warriors, projectile weapons that can shoot accurately for miles and swords, everyone is hatched out an egg but can still cross-breed with an Earthling, roving hordes living in the many dead cities and technological cities with never-dying light bulbs. Each book in the series has its strengths and weaknesses. Being the first book, the devices do not get old, but his world and style isn't quite developed. However, the setting is new and novel enough to be exciting. The first 3 are from the first person of John Carter as he tries to save Deja Thoris from increasingly powerful enemies and situations. The next few books have the same exact style with new locales and people. The first book introduces Green and Red men. The next introduces the White and the Black, the third, the Yellow man. He runs out of colors and then proceeds to telepaths who can will thoughts into material manifestations (or do they...?). Then spider heads and headless bodies in a rough symbiosis and cities filled with beautiful dead people by skilled taxidermists. This series is possibly the first example where the first book is introductory and stands on its own, but the second ends in a cliffhanger and the third resolves it so that hero gets his girl and is king of everything. Think Star Wars 4/5/6, the Matrix, Pirates/ Caribbean series. In the fourth book on, Burroughs abandons his first person viewpoint and the story moves beyond John Carter. Characters and settings introduced earlier get fleshed out and new ones introduced. I think these stories are a bit more complex than the first three and enjoyed them more. Unfortunately, my copies of Thuvia, Maid of Mars and the Chessmen of Mars had spelling errors, typos, swapped names, disjointed sentences where words and phrases were completely gone,... I should check other editions to see if this is common or just my book. The first three were editorially clean. The editions for this series that I chose in LibraryThing DO NOT reflect the actual editions I have. I broke the set out from the single volume compendium I have to more accurately track my reading. Mine is the single volume compendium John Carter of Mars from Fall River Press 978-1-4351-4991-5
    • 3/5
      Definitely pulp fiction, but more fun than I expected.

      I wonder what it would have been like reading this before we had sent spacecraft to Mars, and before we had nice pictures of Martian surfaces.

      I can't help but wonder if Burroughs meant the reader to believe Earthlings are descended from the red men of Mars--the planet is collapsing, the ancient humanoid residents of the huge now-dead cities created the atmosphere maker.
    • 3/5
      John Carter dies on earth and awakens on Mars.
    • 3/5
      I've always loved Burroughs, but his books are a bit dated now. He tends to be a bit racist and sexist with "savages" always running rampant and women who need saving. However, he's still one of the kings of pulp and this is surprisingly cinematic and fun. Looking forward to seeing _John Carter_ despite the reviews.
    • 4/5
      I've honestly been meaning to pick up Burrough's Barsoom Series ever since I first read Tarzan of the Apes a few years ago and was told that he'd written this sci-fi adventure series set on Mars. While I don't read a ton of contemporary science fiction novels, I find myself drawn to early sci-fi (though I still haven't read a ton of the pioneering novels like this one). Once I heard the movie was coming out, I decided it was high time to jump into these books. I was surprised to learn that A Princess of Mars is the first book in an ELEVEN book series. I admit that it was written in the time when the public seemed to just eat up adventure novels like this, but I was still intrigued by the longevity of the series.The writing definitely has that early 20th century feel to it. The language is elegant and thoughtful as opposed to just being thrown on the page to feel a pop-culture need for yet another blast 'em up space adventure. The main part of the story begins in the Arizona desert and involves John Carter doing a little prospecting with a friend and then being chased by warlike Indians. The plot and adventure felt very reminiscent of other adventure novels I'd read from the late-19th and early-20th century. The narration style, the descriptions, etc. All very familiarly well crafted and vibrant.After a bit of excitement on Earth we are taken, almost literally, in the blink of an eye to Mars. Burroughs doesn't get into the science of how John Carter is transported to the planet nor does he initially say anything about how he's able to breathe and survive in the differing atmosphere. Rather than focusing on the hard science, we are taken into an exploration of the softer science. John Carter discovers an incubator…his first glimpse into the Martian culture. He then meets and interacts with a variety of alien races. There is definitely some focus on the science of John's physiological differences (and the way gravity works differently on his body on Mars than on Earth) but the core exploration seems to be one of cultures, of relationships, of 'humanity.'There are most definitely adventure scenes in this novel and they are quite fun. Some of the action and adventure comes from misunderstandings and the warlike nature of some of the Martian races, but a large part of the motivation is based on the romantic affectations of John Carter towards the Princess of Mars, a "red Martian" named Dejah Thoris.For John, it was love at first sight with Dejah, but I loved the way he had to work hard to understand her and get her to reciprocate his feelings. I loved the way Burroughs focused on the difficulties of the "courtship" not only because John and Dejah were of different races…but also just because of the nature of interactions and misunderstandings between men and women generally. While certainly not an in-depth psychological reading, it was fun to see the male and female psyches come into play.I found myself really engaged in the story. The book jumped very rapidly from one action sequence to another and from one part of Mars to another. Over the course of a very few pages we are bounced over the expanse of Mars and get to know two major "human-like" races along with the various tribes and sub-groups of each of these. We are given a glimpse into a very imaginative and fun new culture with strange new creatures and technologies. With the fast paced nature of the narrative, I sometimes wished for a little more character/plot development but by the same token, I felt like the fast pace actually helped develop some of these elements in a way far more effective and interesting.I really enjoyed this book and look forward to checking out others in the Barsoom series. I haven't yet seen the movie though I have seen it getting fairly unfavorable reviews. I still want to see the film to see if perhaps a knowledge of the book will make it a better experience than the reviews suggest. Regardless of the quality of the movie, I can definitely recommend this book to most readers.
    • 4/5
      John Carter!The Warlord of Mars!Dejah Thoris, the most beautiful woman ever!Action! Excitement!It was all that in my youth. But somehow now, as an adult, things have changed.The writing is muddied, and the perspective not near as good as I remembered from those past times.For a young person, A Princess of Mars is a classic. The times that Burroughs wrote, this first person narrative style was probably all the rage. I remember that I felt a compulsion to read the stories when in my teens.Now though I see that there are points in the writing and development of the story that do not work as well for me as an adult that did when I was a child. Enjoyable yes. But not the great adventure story that it had been. And then suspend my disbelief as Burroughs tried to build his world. That has some problems that just don't seem to connect and I can't gloss over as I could when I was younger.Not only that, but the action just does not seem as well choreographed as it used to seem, and from the fire to the frying pan is just one looping occurrence. John Carter never seems to have a moment to take a breath which a penny-dreadful type tale might require. A well developed novel feels like it should allow for more.At this stage, having read the series when a child, I might finish the entire reread, but I think watching Disney's interpretation even with actors who are not as heroic, or as beautiful, as Burroughs portrayed them will serve.
    • 4/5
      2012 is the centennial year for this book, the first volume in the Barsoom series by Edgar Rice Burroughs. John Carter, the hero of this book, appears in six of the eleven books in the series. Library of America published this edition to celebrate the centenary. The art work on the cover is very good and there are also several full page drawings in the book which add to the story.The book begins with the hero in Arizona being chased by Apache warriors. He finds safety in a cave. He is found by the Apaches who turn and run from whatever is making a deep rumbling noise in the back of the cave. Carter becomes paralyzed by a vapor in the cave and then leaves his body and escapes from the cave. He looks up into the night sky and sees the red planet. In a gesture of longing he raises his arms and is transported to Mars.His time on Mars is a terrific fast paced adventure story. The low gravity of Mars turns Carter into a warrior with incredible skills. He needs those skills as he battles with different species of creatures out to kill him. Burroughs does a great job of peopling Mars with various types peoples and animals. The different types of Martians are patterned on homo sapiens and are very aggressive.Carter's romance with the Princess of Mars is the innocent romance of our young adult years. This is a young adult book but the action and the Martian background which Burroughs created made for an entertaining read.I liked the book more than I thought I would. I was pulled in by the characters and the action/adventure kept me reading to the end. I will probably try another in the series just for kicks.
    • 4/5
      I opened my eyes upon a strange and weird landscape. I knew that I was on Mars; not once did I question either my sanity or my wakefulness. I was not asleep, no need for pinching here; my inner consciousness told me as plainly that I was upon Mars as your conscious mind tells you that your are upon Earth. You do not question the fact; neither did I.There is a mystery about John Carter that is almost forgotten in the excitement of his adventures on Mars. He claims to be immortal and that he has been known as Uncle Jack to generations of his family but has appeared to be abut 30 years old (if indeed they are his relations, since he can't remember his childhood). I wonder whether this is explained in one of the later books, or whether his origins will remain forever mysterious.I noticed that in a couple of places John Carter uses the word shambles in its old sense, of a place where animals are slaughtered and butchered. When he describes the aftermath of a battle as a 'bloody shambles' he is not swearing, and means that it is literally covered in gore and body parts, and not that it is a disorganised mess. I wonder if that meaning was still in general use in Virginia at the time of the American Civil War, or whether his use of obsolete terms is pointing to his immortality? I liked Sola's story and how it showed that the green martians' cold and loveless society is a cultural artefact rather than determined by evolution and genetics I liked John Carter a lot too; he says that he isn't a hero because taking the easy way out never even occurs to him until afterwards, he sees the green martians as men and women rather than alien monsters, and he is very fond of animals and uses kindness to turn the 'guard-dog' into a loyal and friendly pet, and the unpredictable throats into reliable mounts who won't throw their rider at the worst possible moment and try to gore him. There is one one thing about this book that I definitely don't like - Edgar Rice Burroughs is just rubbish at thinking up character names! The women's names aren't so bad, but John Carter is a boring name for the protagonist, and the martian men's names such as Kantos Kan and Tars Tarkas.just seem ridiculously clunky.---I nominated this book for the Motley Fool on-line book club, because the recent film based on it, "John Carter", was so badly received that I thought it would be interesting to see what the original story was like, and it won the vote for a book available as a free download.Now that I have finished, I would quite like to see the recent film to see how they made such a mess of it. I would have thought that "A Princess of Mars" would made a good film, as it has an exotic alien setting, a likeable hero and heroine, romantic misunderstandings, character development (Tars Tarkas and the green martians), monstrous beasts (the white apes), cuddly beasts (the loveable Woola), and plenty of excitement in the form of daring escapes, airship chases, sword-fights and battles on land and in the air.
    • 3/5
      I hate giving it only three stars, because I absolutely loved this series when I was a kid. I'm now a much more sophisticated reader; maybe the difference is also that the style seems dated now -- lots of telling, not so much showing. It's still better than the unfortunate recent film.
    • 3/5
      This classic science fiction adventure story from Edgar Rice Burroughs begins the story of John Carter, a Civil War hero and inadvertent time and space traveler. John Carter finds himself mysteriously transported from an Arizona desert to Mars where he uses his superior strength and agility due to the difference in the pull of gravity to survive in an alien culture. He finds true love with a princess, Deja Thoris. His courage, loyalty and resourcefulness are tested in several dangerous encounters with the red and green Martians and he again becomes a hero. After being enslaved, losing his princess several times, battling beings and weaponry different than he was previously familiar with, he successfully becomes a leader for both the red and green Martians. He remains true to his own values and wins the princess. Today’s savvy readers will find several questions in Burroughs’ explanations for why things happen the way they do but will still be satisfied with the exciting plot full of action and adventure. Imagining suddenly finding themselves on an alien planet with very different races of humans, the reader will enjoy the adventure even if they aren’t always able to suspend their disbelief over some of the details. The new Disney movie “John Carter” is based on this novel and will encourage readers to continue the adventure with him in the other books in the series. As a classic and a movie tie-in, this is a good purchase for a school library. Grades 7-12.
    • 5/5
      I wasn't expecting to like this as much as I did. Fantastic; I read it through in a sitting and enjoyed it from one end to the other. It was like he had some brilliant insight into how to push my happy buttons. Not something I'd read to increase my enlightenment or insight into life, but a good "lay down your troubles and be refreshed" kind of book.
    • 5/5
      It's a real pleasure to revisit the "Barsoom" series after nearly 50 years. They're even better than I remember!

    Book preview

    A Princess of Mars - 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.

    In this instance I was, of course, positive that Powell was the center of attraction, but whether I thought or acted first I do not know, but within an instant from the moment the scene broke upon my view I had whipped out my revolvers and was charging down upon the entire army of warriors, shooting rapidly, and whooping at the top of my lungs. Singlehanded, I could not have pursued better tactics, for the red men, convinced by sudden surprise that not less than a regiment of regulars was upon them, turned and fled in every direction for their bows, arrows, and rifles.

    The view which their hurried routing disclosed filled me with apprehension and with rage. Under the clear rays of the Arizona moon lay Powell, his body fairly bristling with the hostile arrows of the braves. That he was already dead I could not but be convinced, and yet I would have saved his body from mutilation at the hands of the Apaches as quickly as I would have saved the man himself from death.

    Riding close to him I reached down from the saddle, and grasping his cartridge belt drew him up across the withers of my mount. A backward glance convinced me that to return by the way I had come would be more hazardous than to continue across the plateau, so, putting spurs to my poor beast, I made a dash for the opening to the pass which I could distinguish on the far side of the table land.

    The Indians had by this time discovered that I was alone and I was pursued with imprecations, arrows, and rifle balls. The fact that it is difficult to aim anything but imprecations accurately by moonlight, that they were upset by the sudden and unexpected manner of my advent, and that I was a rather rapidly moving target saved me from the various deadly projectiles of the enemy and permitted me to reach the shadows of the surrounding peaks before an orderly pursuit could be organized.

    My horse was traveling practically unguided as I knew that I had probably less knowledge of the exact location of the trail to the pass than he, and thus it happened that he entered a defile which led to the summit of the range and not to the pass which I had hoped would carry me to the valley and to safety. It is probable, however, that to this fact I owe my life and the remarkable experiences and adventures which befell me during the following ten years.

    My first knowledge that I was on the wrong trail came when I heard the yells of the pursuing savages suddenly grow fainter and fainter far off to my left.

    I knew then that they had passed to the left of the jagged rock formation at the edge of the plateau, to the right of which my horse had borne me and the body of Powell.

    I drew rein on a little level promontory overlooking the trail below and to my left, and saw the party of pursuing savages disappearing around the point of a neighboring peak.

    I knew the Indians would soon discover that they were on the wrong trail and that the search for me would be renewed in the right direction as soon as they located my tracks.

    I had gone but a short distance further when what seemed to be an excellent trail opened up around the face of a high cliff. The trail was level and quite broad and led upward and in the general direction I wished to go. The cliff arose for several hundred feet on my right, and on my left was an equal and nearly perpendicular drop to the bottom of a rocky ravine.

    I had followed this trail for perhaps a hundred yards when a sharp turn to the right brought me to the mouth of a large cave. The opening was about four feet in height and three to four feet wide, and at this opening the trail ended.

    It was now morning, and, with the customary lack of dawn which is a startling characteristic of Arizona, it had become daylight almost without warning.

    Dismounting, I laid Powell upon the ground, but the most painstaking examination failed to reveal the faintest spark of life. I forced water from my canteen between his dead lips, bathed his face and rubbed his hands, working over him continuously for the better part of an hour in the face of the fact that I knew him to be dead.

    I was very fond of Powell; he was thoroughly a man in every respect; a polished southern gentleman; a staunch and true friend; and it was with a feeling of the deepest grief that I finally gave up my crude endeavors at resuscitation.

    Leaving Powell’s body where it lay on the ledge I crept into the cave to reconnoiter. I found a large chamber, possibly a hundred feet in diameter and thirty or forty feet in height; a smooth and well-worn floor, and many other evidences that the cave had, at some remote period, been inhabited. The back of the cave was so lost in dense shadow that I could not distinguish whether there were openings into other apartments or not.

    As I was continuing my examination I commenced to feel a pleasant drowsiness creeping over me which I attributed to the fatigue of my long and strenuous ride, and the reaction from the excitement of the fight and the pursuit. I felt comparatively safe in my present location as I knew that one man could defend the trail to the cave against an army.

    I soon became so drowsy that I could scarcely resist the strong desire to throw myself on the floor of the cave for a few moments’ rest, but I knew that this would never do, as it would mean certain death at the hands of my red friends, who might be upon me at any moment. With an effort I started toward the opening of the cave only to reel drunkenly against a side wall, and from there slip prone upon the floor.

    CHAPTER II

    THE ESCAPE OF THE DEAD

    A SENSE OF DELICIOUS dreaminess overcame me, my muscles relaxed, and I was on the point of giving way to my desire to sleep when the sound of approaching horses reached my ears. I attempted to spring to my feet but was horrified to discover that my muscles refused to respond to my will. I was now thoroughly awake, but as unable to move a muscle as though turned to stone. It was then, for the first time, that I noticed a slight vapor filling the cave. It was extremely tenuous and only noticeable against the opening which led to daylight. There also came to my nostrils a faintly pungent odor, and I could only assume that I had been overcome by some poisonous gas, but why I should retain my mental faculties and yet be unable to move I could not fathom.

    I lay facing the opening of the cave and where I could see the short stretch of trail which lay between the cave and the turn of the cliff around which the trail led. The noise of the approaching horses had ceased, and I judged the Indians were creeping stealthily upon me along the little ledge which led to my living tomb. I remember that I hoped they would make short work of me as I did not particularly relish the thought of the innumerable things they might do to me if the spirit prompted them.

    I had not long to wait before a stealthy sound apprised me of their nearness, and then a war-bonneted, paint-streaked face was thrust cautiously around the shoulder of the cliff, and savage eyes looked into mine. That he could see me in the dim light of the cave I was sure for the early morning sun was falling full upon me through the opening.

    The fellow, instead of approaching, merely stood and stared; his eyes bulging and his jaw dropped. And then another savage face appeared, and a third and fourth and fifth, craning their necks over the shoulders of their fellows whom they could not pass upon the narrow ledge. Each face was the picture of awe and fear, but for what reason I did not know, nor did I learn until ten years later. That there were still other braves behind those who regarded me was apparent from the fact that the leaders passed back whispered word to those behind them.

    Suddenly a low but distinct moaning sound issued from the recesses of the cave behind me, and, as it reached the ears of the Indians, they turned and fled in terror, panic-stricken. So frantic were their efforts to escape from the unseen thing behind me that one of the braves was hurled headlong from the cliff to the rocks below. Their wild cries echoed in the canyon for a short time, and then all was still once more.

    The sound which had frightened them was not repeated, but it had been sufficient as it was to start me speculating on the possible horror which lurked in the shadows at my back. Fear is a relative term and so I can only measure my feelings at that time by what I had experienced in previous positions of danger and by those that I have passed through since; but I can say without shame that if the sensations I endured during the next few minutes were fear, then may God help the coward, for cowardice is of a surety its own punishment.

    To be held paralyzed, with one’s back toward some horrible and unknown danger from the very sound of which the ferocious Apache warriors turn in wild stampede, as a flock of sheep would madly flee from a pack of wolves, seems to me the last word in fearsome predicaments for a man who had ever been used to fighting for his life with all the energy of a powerful physique.

    Several times I thought I heard faint sounds behind me as of somebody moving cautiously, but eventually even these ceased, and I was left to the contemplation of my position without interruption. I could but vaguely conjecture the cause of my paralysis, and my only hope lay in that it might pass off as suddenly as it had fallen upon me.

    Late in the afternoon my horse, which had been standing with dragging rein before the cave, started slowly down the trail, evidently in search of food and water, and I was left alone with

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