dly shower of javelins from the wall's top!

Once again they charge, but a sortie by a large force of Okarians
from an intersecting avenue crumples the head of the column, and
the men of Helium go down, fighting, beneath an overwhelming force.

The palace gate flies open and a force of the jeddak's own guard,
picked men from the flower of the Okarian army, sallies forth
to shatter the broken regiments. For a moment it looks as though
nothing could avert defeat, and then I see a noble figure upon
a mighty thoat--not the tiny thoat of the red man, but one of his
huge cousins of the dead sea bottoms.

The warrior hews his way to the front, and behind him rally the
disorganized soldiers of Helium. As he raises his head aloft to
fling a challenge at the men upon the palace walls I see his face,
and my heart swells in pride and happiness as the red warriors leap
to the side of their leader and win back the ground that they had
but just lost--the face of him upon the mighty thoat is the face
of my son--Carthoris of Helium.

At his side fights a huge Martian war-hound, nor did I need a
second look to know that it was Woola--my faithful Woola who had
thus well performed his arduous task and brought the succoring
legions in the nick of time.

"In the nick of time?"

Who yet might say that they were not too late to save, but surely
they could avenge! And such retribution as that unconquered army
would deal out to the hateful Okarians! I sighed to think that I
might not be alive to witness it.

Again I turned to the windows. The red men had not yet forced the
outer palace wall, but they were fighting nobly against the best
that Okar afforded--valiant warriors who contested every inch of
the way.

Now my attention was caught by a new element without the city wall--a
great body of mounted warriors looming large above the red men.
They were the huge green allies of Helium--the savage hordes from
the dead sea bottoms of the far south.

In grim and terrible silence they sped on toward the gate, the
padded hoofs of their frightful mounts giving forth no sound. Into
the doomed city they charged, and as they wheeled across the wide
plaza before the palace of the Jeddak of Jeddaks I saw, riding at
their head, the mighty figure of their mighty leader--Tars Tarkas,
Jeddak of Thark.

My wish, then, was to be gratified, for I was to see my old friend
battling once again, and though not shoulder to shoulder with him,
I, too,