A Princess of Mars

My captor, whose name was Tars Tarkas, was virtually the vice-chieftain

of the community, and a man of great ability as a statesman and

warrior. He evidently explained briefly the incidents connected with

his expedition, including my capture, and when he had concluded the

chieftain addressed me at some length.

I replied in our good old English tongue merely to convince him that

neither of us could understand the other; but I noticed that when I

smiled slightly on concluding, he did likewise. This fact, and the

similar occurrence during my first talk with Tars Tarkas, convinced me

that we had at least something in common; the ability to smile,

therefore to laugh; denoting a sense of humor. But I was to learn that

the Martian smile is merely perfunctory, and that the Martian laugh is

a thing to cause strong men to blanch in horror.

The ideas of humor among the green men of Mars are widely at variance

with our conceptions of incitants to merriment. The death agonies of a

fellow being are, to these strange creatures provocative of the wildest

hilarity, while their chief form of commonest amusement is to inflict

death on their prisoners of war in various ingenious and horrible ways.

The assembled warriors and chieftains examined me closely, feeling my

muscles and the texture of my skin. The principal chieftain then

evidently signified a desire to see me perform, and, motioning me to

follow, he started with Tars Tarkas for the open plaza.

Now, I had made no attempt to walk, since my first signal failure,

except while tightly grasping Tars Tarkas' arm, and so now I went

skipping and flitting about among the desks and chairs like some

monstrous grasshopper. After bruising myself severely, much to the

amusement of the Martians, I again had recourse to creeping, but this

did not suit them and I was roughly jerked to my feet by a towering

fellow who had laughed most heartily at my misfortunes.

As he banged me down upon my feet his face was bent close to mine and I

did the only thing a gentleman might do under the circumstances of

brutality, boorishness, and lack of consideration for a stranger's

rights; I swung my fist squarely to his jaw and he went down like a

felled ox. As he sunk to the floor I wheeled around with my back

toward the nearest desk, expecting to be overwhelmed by the vengeance

of his fellows, but determined to give them as good a battle as the

unequal odds would permit before I gave up my life.

My fears were groundless, however, as the other Martians, at first

struck dumb with wonderment, finally broke into wild peals of laughter

and applause. I did not recognize the applause as such, but later,

when I had become acquainted with their customs, I learned that I had

won what they seldom accord, a manifestation of approbation.