Battling with Crickets
“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.