A Princess of Mars

"I do not need to tell you what this means to Barsoom. It would take

months to penetrate those mighty walls, in fact the work has already

commenced, and there would be little to fear were the engine of the

pumping plant to run as it should and as they all have for hundreds of

years now; but the worst, we fear, has happened. The instruments show

a rapidly decreasing air pressure on all parts of Barsoom--the engine

has stopped."

"My gentlemen," he concluded, "we have at best three days to live."

There was absolute silence for several minutes, and then a young noble

arose, and with his drawn sword held high above his head addressed

Tardos Mors.

"The men of Helium have prided themselves that they have ever shown

Barsoom how a nation of red men should live, now is our opportunity to

show them how they should die. Let us go about our duties as though a

thousand useful years still lay before us."

The chamber rang with applause and as there was nothing better to do

than to allay the fears of the people by our example we went our ways

with smiles upon our faces and sorrow gnawing at our hearts.

When I returned to my palace I found that the rumor already had reached

Dejah Thoris, so I told her all that I had heard.

"We have been very happy, John Carter," she said, "and I thank whatever

fate overtakes us that it permits us to die together."

The next two days brought no noticeable change in the supply of air,

but on the morning of the third day breathing became difficult at the

higher altitudes of the rooftops. The avenues and plazas of Helium

were filled with people. All business had ceased. For the most part

the people looked bravely into the face of their unalterable doom.

Here and there, however, men and women gave way to quiet grief.

Toward the middle of the day many of the weaker commenced to succumb

and within an hour the people of Barsoom were sinking by thousands into

the unconsciousness which precedes death by asphyxiation.

Dejah Thoris and I with the other members of the royal family had

collected in a sunken garden within an inner courtyard of the palace.

We conversed in low tones, when we conversed at all, as the awe of the

grim shadow of death crept over us. Even Woola seemed to feel the

weight of the impending calamity, for he pressed close to Dejah Thoris

and to me, whining pitifully.

The little incubator had been brought from the roof of our palace at

request of Dejah Thoris and now she sat gazing longingly upon the

unknown little life that now she would never know.

As it was becoming perceptibly difficult to breathe Tardos Mors arose,

saying, "Let us bid each other farewell. The days of the greatness of Barsoom

are over. Tomorrow's sun will look down upon a dead world which

through all eternity must go swinging through the heavens peopled not

even by memories. It is the end."