"You will see the Otz Valley
directly. We shall skirt it for a few hundred miles."
"The Otz Valley!" I exclaimed; "but, man, is not there where lie
the domains of the therns from which I but just escaped?"
"Yes," answered Xodar. "You crossed this ice field last night in
the long chase that you led us. The Otz Valley lies in a mighty
depression at the south pole. It is sunk thousands of feet below
the level of the surrounding country, like a great round bowl. A
hundred miles from its northern boundary rise the Otz Mountains
which circle the inner Valley of Dor, in the exact centre of which
lies the Lost Sea of Korus. On the shore of this sea stands the
Golden Temple of Issus in the Land of the First Born. It is there
that we are bound."
As I looked I commenced to realize why it was that in all the ages
only one had escaped from the Valley Dor. My only wonder was that
even the one had been successful. To cross this frozen, wind-swept
waste of bleak ice alone and on foot would be impossible.
"Only by air boat could the journey be made," I finished aloud.
"It was thus that one did escape the therns in bygone times; but
none has ever escaped the First Born," said Xodar, with a touch of
pride in his voice.
We had now reached the southernmost extremity of the great ice
barrier. It ended abruptly in a sheer wall thousands of feet high
at the base of which stretched a level valley, broken here and
there by low rolling hills and little clumps of forest, and with
tiny rivers formed by the melting of the ice barrier at its base.
Once we passed far above what seemed to be a deep canyon-like rift
stretching from the ice wall on the north across the valley as far
as the eye could reach. "That is the bed of the River Iss," said
Xodar. "It runs far beneath the ice field, and below the level of
the Valley Otz, but its canyon is open here."
Presently I descried what I took to be a village, and pointing it
out to Xodar asked him what it might be.
"It is a village of lost souls," he answered, laughing. "This strip
between the ice barrier and the mountains is considered neutral
ground. Some turn off from their voluntary pilgrimage down the
Iss, and, scaling the awful walls of its canyon below us, stop in
the valley. Also a slave now and then escapes from the therns and
makes his way hither.
"They do not attempt to recapture such, since there is no escape
from this outer valley, and as a matter of fact they fear the
patrolling cruisers of the First Born too much to venture from
their own domains.
"The poor creatures of this outer valley are not molested by us
since they have nothing that we desire, nor are they numerically
strong enough to give us an interesting fight--so we too leave them
alone.
"There are several villages of them, but they have increased
in numbers but little in many years since they are always warring
among themselves."
Now we swung a little north of west, leaving the valley of lost
souls, and shortly I discerned over our starboard bow what appeared
to be a black mountain rising from the desolate waste of ice. It
was not high and seemed to have a flat top.
Xodar had left us to attend to some duty on the vessel, and Phaidor
and I stood alone beside the rail. The girl had not once spoken
since we had been brought to the deck.
"Is what he has been telling me true?" I asked her.
"In part, yes," she answered. "That about the outer valley
is true, but what he says of the location of the Temple of Issus
in the centre of his country is false. If it is not false--" she
hesitated. "Oh it cannot be true, it cannot be true. For if it
were true then for countless ages have my people gone to torture
and ignominious death at the hands of their cruel enemies, instead
of to the beautiful Life Eternal that we have been taught to believe
Issus holds for us."
"As the lesser Barsoomians of the outer world have been lured by you
to the terrible Valley Dor, so may it be that the therns themselves
have been lured by the First Born to an equally horrid fate," I
suggested. "It would be a stern and awful retribution, Phaidor;
but a just one."
"I cannot believe it," she said.
"We shall see," I answered, and then we fell silent again for we were
rapidly approaching the black mountains, which in some indefinable
way seemed linked with the answer to our problem.
As we neared the dark, truncated cone the vessel's speed was
diminished until we barely moved. Then we topped the crest of the
mountain and below us I saw yawning the mouth of a huge circular
well, the bottom of which was lost in inky blackness.
The diameter of this enormous pit was fully a thousand feet. The
walls were smooth and appeared to be composed of a black, basaltic
rock.
For a moment the vessel hovered motionless directly above the centre
of the gaping void, then slowly she began to settle into the black
chasm. Lower and lower she sank until as darkness enveloped us
her lights were thrown on and in the dim halo of her own radiance
the monster battleship dropped on and on down into what seemed to
me must be the very bowels of Barsoom.
For quite half an hour we descended and then the shaft terminated
abruptly in the dome of a mighty subterranean world. Below us rose
and fell the billows of a buried sea. A phosphorescent radiance
illuminated the scene. Thousands of ships dotted the bosom of the
ocean. Little islands rose here and there to support the strange
and colourless vegetation of this strange world.
Slowly and with majestic grace the battleship dropped until
she rested on the water.
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