evious ways beyond that led beneath
the Valley Dor and Golden Cliffs to emerge at last upon the flank
of the Otz Mountains just above the Valley of Lost Souls--that
pitiful purgatory peopled by the poor unfortunates who dare not
continue their abandoned pilgrimage to Dor, or return to the various
lands of the outer world from whence they came.

Here the trail of Dejah Thoris' abductors led along the mountains'
base, across steep and rugged ravines, by the side of appalling
precipices, and sometimes out into the valley, where we found
fighting aplenty with the members of the various tribes that make
up the population of this vale of hopelessness.

But through it all we came at last to where the way led up a narrow
gorge that grew steeper and more impracticable at every step until
before us loomed a mighty fortress buried beneath the side of an
overhanging cliff.

Here was the secret hiding place of Matai Shang, Father of Therns.
Here, surrounded by a handful of the faithful, the hekkador of
the ancient faith, who had once been served by millions of vassals
and dependents, dispensed the spiritual words among the half dozen
nations of Barsoom that still clung tenaciously to their false and
discredited religion.

Darkness was just falling as we came in sight of the seemingly
impregnable walls of this mountain stronghold, and lest we be seen
I drew back with Woola behind a jutting granite promontory, into
a clump of the hardy, purple scrub that thrives upon the barren
sides of Otz.

Here we lay until the quick transition from daylight to darkness
had passed. Then I crept out to approach the fortress walls in
search of a way within.

Either through carelessness or over-confidence in the supposed
inaccessibility of their hiding place, the triple-barred gate stood
ajar. Beyond were a handful of guards, laughing and talking over
one of their incomprehensible Barsoomian games.

I saw that none of the guardsmen had been of the party that
accompanied Thurid and Matai Shang; and so, relying entirely upon
my disguise, I walked boldly through the gateway and up to the
thern guard.

The men stopped their game and looked up at me, but there was no
sign of suspicion. Similarly they looked at Woola, growling at my
heel.

"Kaor!" I said in true Martian greeting, and the warriors arose and
saluted me. "I have but just found my way hither from the Golden
Cliffs," I continued, "and seek audience with the hekkador, Matai
Sha