READ THE NOVEL- Chapters 1-31 - ERBzine

Tarzan on Mars
hangers upon many a rooftop, smaller fliers were darting into
the line of the "ground" traffic, contributing to the general soft
whirring of either radium engines or the more modern magnetic
engines—both of which types of locomotion possessed
the virtue of having no air contaminating exhaust fumes.
With all the swift movement and the countless thousands
rushing hither and thither, the predominant suggestion was
that of luxurious ease and soft noiselessness. From various
buildings or private dwellings issued strains of inspiring
music. Scarlet swards and flowered parkways continually
provided aesthetic relief to the massiveness of man-made
edifices. Children played at the great splashing fountains of
synthetic liquid—for water was too precious a natural resource
to allow to evaporate so extravagantly—and comely
women laughed and chatted with their acquaintances.
Everywhere were evidences of culture, luxury and
wealth. Slaves appeared upon every housetop, taking in gorgeous
silks and costly furs where they had been sunning
during the day, for the sun was setting and the populace was
preparing for the night. Jewel-encrusted women and richly
harnessed men lolled upon the craven balconies, watching the
gay, peaceful river of humanity that flowed beneath them, and
above through the sky.
But what the great savage Thark loved most of all about
the aspect of the red men's cities, particularly in Helium, was
the striking evidence of strength in the midst of comfort and
ease, of the proud readiness of each man to instantly defend
his right to tenderness and compassion. Each Barsoomian,
whether red, yellow, black, green or white, was raised from
infancy on the principle that war was a natural state. Every
man and boy was as adept at using long or short sword as you
and I might be in the use of a pen or pencil. The clank of
sidearms in everyday pedestrian traffic was as familiar to the
Barsoomian ear as is the beep of an auto horn to a civilized
earthman.
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