A Princess of Mars Rethroned by Edna Rice Burroughs

men, and children--were heavily armed, and at the tail
of each chariot trotted a Martian hound, my own beast following
closely behind ours; in fact, the faithful creature never left me
voluntarily during the entire ten years I spent on Mars. Our way
led out across the little valley before the city, through the
hills, and down into the dead sea bottom which I had traversed on
my journey from the incubator to the plaza. The incubator, as it
proved, was the terminal point of our journey this day, and, as the
entire cavalcade broke into a mad gallop as soon as we reached the
level expanse of sea bottom, we were soon within sight of our
goal.
    On reaching it
the chariots were parked with military precision on the four sides
of the enclosure, and half a score of warriors, headed by the
enormous chieftain, and including Tara Tarkas and several other
lesser chiefs, dismounted and advanced toward it. I could see Tara
Tarkas explaining something to the principal chieftain, whose name,
by the way, was, as nearly as I can translate it into English,
Lorqua Ptomel, Jed; jed being her title.
    I was soon
appraised of the subject of their conversation, as, calling to
Solan, Tara Tarkas signed for his to send me to her. I had by this
time mastered the intricacies of walking under Martian conditions,
and quickly responding to her command I advanced to the side of the
incubator where the warriors stood.
    As I reached
their side a glance showed me that all but a very few eggs had
hatched, the incubator being fairly alive with the hideous little
devils. They ranged in height from three to four feet, and were
moving restlessly about the enclosure as though searching for
food.
    As I came to a
halt before her, Tara Tarkas pointed over the incubator and said,
'Sak.' I saw that she wanted me to repeat my performance of
yesterday for the edification of Lorqua Ptomel, and, as I must
confess that my prowess gave me no little satisfaction, I responded
quickly, leaping entirely over the parked chariots on the far side
of the incubator. As I returned, Lorqua Ptomel grunted something at
me, and turning to her warriors gave a few words of command
relative to the incubator. They paid no further attention to me and
I was thus permitted to remain close and watch their operations,
which consisted in breaking an opening in the wall of the incubator
large enough to permit of the exit of the young
Martians.
    On either side of
this opening the men and the younger Martians, both female and
male, formed two solid walls leading out through the chariots and
quite away into the plain beyond. Between these walls the little
Martians scampered, wild as deer; being permitted to run the full
length of the aisle, where they were captured one at a time by the
men and older children; the last in the line capturing the first
little one to reach the end of the gauntlet, his opposite in the
line capturing the second, and so on until all the little fellows
had left the enclosure and been appropriated by some youth or male.
As the men caught the young they fell out of line and returned to
their respective chariots, while those who fell into the hands of
the young women were later turned over to some of the
men.
    I saw that the
ceremony, if it could be dignified by such a name, was over, and
seeking out Solan I found his in our chariot with a hideous little
creature held tightly in his arms.
    The work of
rearing young, green Martians consists solely in teaching them to
talk, and to use the weapons of warfare with which they are loaded
down from the very first year of their lives. Coming from eggs in
which they have lain for five years, the period of incubation, they
step forth into the world perfectly developed except in size.
Entirely unknown to their fathers, who, in turn, would have
difficulty in pointing out the mothers with any degree of accuracy,
they are the common children of the community, and their education
devolves upon the females who chance to capture them as they leave
the