A Princess of Mars

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.