"What do you mean?"
"I can only guess," she replied, "since no thern damsel of all the
millions that have been stolen away by black pirates during the
ages they have raided our domains has ever returned to narrate her
experiences among them. That they never take a man prisoner lends
strength to the belief that the fate of the girls they steal is
worse than death."
"Is it not a just retribution?" I could not help but ask.
"What do you mean?"
"Do not the therns themselves do likewise with the poor creatures
who take the voluntary pilgrimage down the River of Mystery? Was
not Thuvia for fifteen years a plaything and a slave? Is it less
than just that you should suffer as you have caused others to
suffer?"
"You do not understand," she replied. "We therns are a holy race.
It is an honour to a lesser creature to be a slave among us. Did
we not occasionally save a few of the lower orders that stupidly
float down an unknown river to an unknown end all would become the
prey of the plant men and the apes."
"But do you not by every means encourage the superstition among
those of the outside world?" I argued. "That is the wickedest of
your deeds. Can you tell me why you foster the cruel deception?"
"All life on Barsoom," she said, "is created solely for the support
of the race of therns. How else could we live did the outer world
not furnish our labour and our food? Think you that a thern would
demean himself by labour?"
"It is true then that you eat human flesh?" I asked in horror.
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