Back Llana of Gathol
Chapters (60)
  1. Llana of Gathol
  2. About
  3. Foreword
  4. Part 1The Ancient Dead
  5. Chapter 1
  6. Chapter 2
  7. Chapter 3
  8. Chapter 4
  9. Chapter 5
  10. Chapter 6
  11. Chapter 7
  12. Chapter 8
  13. Chapter 9
  14. Chapter 10
  15. Chapter 11
  16. Chapter 12
  17. Chapter 13
  18. Part 2The Black Pirates of Barsoom
  19. Chapter 1
  20. Chapter 2
  21. Chapter 3
  22. Chapter 4
  23. Chapter 5
  24. Chapter 6
  25. Chapter 7
  26. Chapter 8
  27. Chapter 9
  28. Chapter 10
  29. Chapter 11
  30. Chapter 12
  31. Chapter 13
  32. Part 3Escape on Mars
  33. Chapter 1
  34. Chapter 2
  35. Chapter 3
  36. Chapter 4
  37. Chapter 5
  38. Chapter 6
  39. Chapter 7
  40. Chapter 8
  41. Chapter 9
  42. Chapter 10
  43. Chapter 11
  44. Chapter 12
  45. Chapter 13
  46. Part 4Invisible Men of Mars
  47. Chapter 1
  48. Chapter 2
  49. Chapter 3
  50. Chapter 4
  51. Chapter 5
  52. Chapter 6
  53. Chapter 7
  54. Chapter 8
  55. Chapter 9
  56. Chapter 10
  57. Chapter 11
  58. Chapter 12
  59. Chapter 13
  60. Loved this book ?Similar users also downloaded

He wore a headdress, which is quite unusual upon Barsoom. It consisted of a leather band that ran around the head just above his brows, with another leather band crossing his from right to left and a second from front to rear. These bands were highly ornamented with carving and set with jewels and precious metals. To the center of the band that crossed his forehead was affixed a flat piece of gold in the shape of a spearhead with the point up. This, also, was beautifully carved and bore a strange device inlaid in red and black.

Confined by this headdress was a shock of blond hair—a most amazing thing to see upon Mars. At first I jumped to the conclusion that he must be a thern from the far south-polar land; but that thought I discarded at once when I realized that the hair was his own. The therns are entirely bald and wear great yellow wigs.

I also saw that my companion was strangely handsome. I might say beautiful were it not for the effeminateness which the word connotes, and there was nothing effeminate about the way this man fought or the mighty oaths that he swore when he spoke at all to an adversary. We fighting men are not given to much talk, but when you feel your blade cleave a skull in twain or drive through the heart of a foeman, then sometimes a great oath is wrenched from your lips.

But I had little time then to appraise my companion, for the remaining three were at us again in a moment. I fought that day, I suppose, as I have always fought; but each time it seems to me that I have never fought so well as upon that particular occasion. I do not take great credit for my fighting ability, for it seems to me that my sword is inspired. No man could think as quickly as my point moves, always to the right spot at the right time, as though anticipating the next move of an adversary. It weaves a net of steel about me that few blades have ever pierced. It fills the foeman's eyes with amazement and his mind with doubt and his heart with fear. I imagine that much of my success has been due to the psychological effect of my swordsmanship upon my adversaries.