“They are little men with some kind of a device over their heads,” she asserted with assurance. “And they are acting as the general and commanding officers of the cricket army.”

“You’ve hit it,” Epworth declared excitedly. “They are wearing a headgear to protect them from this outside atmosphere that has been suddenly sent down upon them. At least——”

“Perhaps they do not know that there is an atmosphere,” Billy argued, “Maybe they live some place where there is air, and think that they must be prepared to travel through a world where there is no air.”

“G’wan,” Joan snorted slangily. “Do you mean to suggest that they came here from some other world?”

“Probably they came up out of some of the holes in the moon. I have heard it suggested that the moon is hollow, and that there is a possibility of air inside.”

Before Joan could reply to this the battle began. Toplinsky, like a good general, waited until the moon insects were quite close, and then poured seven volleys from repeating rifles into their ranks. The crickets went down by hundreds. The questions as to whether or not their backs were bullet proof was answered.

Just for a second the lines wavered; then there rent the air a loud musical chirp. It went up and down the various lines of cricket soldiers in waves. It was not unpleasant to hear. In fact, it was accompanied by notes. But it was none the less deadly and demoralizing to the colonists, and sent a chill down the backs of the three Americans, safe in their cave retreat.

Toplinsky shouted in his shrillest voice; from far in the rear of the cricket army came an answering call. To the unbounded wonder of both the Americans and the colonists this answer came back in English.

“Surrender, earth men,” it called out in broken but understandable English, “or we will wipe you out, and not leave a single person living.”

Toplinsky’s answer was a shower of lead in the direction of the voice. Again hundreds of crickets fell; again the ranks closed in strong formation and came forward as if there had been no deaths.

“These Things do not fear death,” Joan whispered in awe. “They do not know what it is. They are just big insects.”

They were coming slowly now but surely, treading softly forward as if sneaking up on an enemy. To the observers in the cave it looked as if they were so many cats preparing to jump on a mouse. The colonists fired desperately. Michael, who seemed to be leading one end of the pirate gang, got a small machine gun out of the storehouse, and began to mow them down like a health officer doping flies. Still they came on—seemingly irresistible, holding their sharp prongs outward, and leaping with invisible movements with their small thin legs.

Now they were fighting the colonists hand to hand. It was apparent however that one colonist was more than a match for ten crickets, and they were thrown back on their second rank, only to be pushed forward again.

Nevertheless it was patent that in time the little band of colonists would be wiped out. Epworth was of the opinion that the crickets would eat them. This however was merely a hunch.

“I do not like those colonists,” he remarked, “but the idea of human beings being cornered by enormous strange insects and turned into a lunch does not appeal to me. These Things look as if they may be of the Orthoptera family but one cannot tell. I’m for butting in.”

“Me too,” Billy agreed, “but how?”

“Follow me and we will see.”

Epworth ran to his newly constructed glider, fastened the plane around his shoulders, and started down the mountainside for a take-off.

“Where are you going?” Joan inquired anxiously.

“We must get to the Aerolite storeroom, and see if we can unlimber some of the heavy gas guns and nitroglycerine weapons. No time to lose.”

All three ran down the mountainside, got into the air, and with the bicycle motors they had attached to the planes directed their course to the Aerolite. Finally they landed on top of the machine as gently as birds. Entering the storeroom, the two men hastily put together one of the large nitroglycerine guns, a big cannon, and a powder gatlin gun Toplinsky had brought along as a measure of defense. These weapons they rolled to the side of the machine from whence came the attack, and both began a bombardment of the cricket army.

The result was startling.

At the first tremendous roar of the cannon, the crickets came to a dead stop. Not since untold ages had such a noise been heard on the face of the moon. Here was all stillness—a terrifying quietude, not even the chirp of a bird or the whirr of a snake. The sudden explosion, as if the entire face of the moon was bursting, and with it was blowing into pieces a large number of crickets, frightened not only the crickets but the little men who were riding on their backs, and with one movement they turned and fled.

But as they departed they carried with them a number of colonists as prisoners. Epworth shuddered as he saw the colonists captured. Their fate was plainly apparent. They would not even get the treatment of a fat missionary. There would be no preliminaries. They would be dragged into a hole in the moon and eaten.

The two Americans fired another shot at the disappearing insects, saw them go forward with great bounds like grasshoppers, and finally disappear over the top of the highest northern mountains. It was incredible the swiftness with which they left the scene of battle.

Supposing that Toplinsky would still be antagonistic the Americans left the top of the Aerolite with leaps that lifted them into the air, and soon were again hidden in their cave.

“Sup—pose the crickets come back,” Joan said fearfully as she removed the shoulder straps of her glider. “They seemed highly intelligent, and were led by minds that did not think of defeat. If they return they will have a large increase in number, and——”

Billy drew his finger across his throat, and pointed at the colony camp.