As Yuri and his captives proceeded toward the capital city, Cabot heard a sound to the southward. So, straining his manacled hands as far to one side as he could, he switched off his receiving set. This set existed for the purpose of enabling the earthman to hear the radiated speech of the Cupians. But, when he wished to listen to some real sound, he could do it far better with his set turned off.
There could be no doubt as to the sound which he now heard. It was the Cupian airfleet from Wautoosa. Now, indeed, the tables would be turned on Prince Yuri!
And, to add to Cabot’s joy, the remnants of his own hundred now fought its way out of the exit, and pursued King Yuri and his captives across the plain.
The fleet flew low in bombing formation; and, as they drew near, the occupants of the leading planes finally became visible. Cabot strained his eyes to try and recognize some of the well-known leaders of the Cupian air navy. Nearer and nearer drew the planes. More and more distinct became the occupants. Cabot thrilled at the thought that in a few minutes, with the aid of his loyal navy, he would be in control of the situation once more, and the renegade Prince Yuri would be at his mercy.
But alas, his joy was short-lived. Horrors! Every ship was manned by ants!
Cabot’s hundred noticed this, too, just in time; for, even as they scattered, a bomb dropped from the point plane and exploded in their midst. Yuri was in control of the air. All was over.
It afterward transpired that while most of the personnel of the Cupian air navy had been on leave to attend the games at Kuana, it had been an easy matter for a handful of supporters of the renegade prince to seize Wautoosa, and to dispatch the planes at once to Formia to load them up with ant men. There were still living south of the pale enough members of the old ant air navy to pilot the entire fleet.
The return to Kuana from the stadium was devoid of further event, and the once glorious cabinet and generals of King Kew were soon safely locked up in the mangool.
Poblath the mango, Cabot’s old friend Poblath, presently appeared, having returned from the stadium. To Cabot’s surprise, Poblath gloated over him.
“Aha!” he exclaimed. “I have long awaited this day. You won Bthuh away from me, and then cast her aside. You thought that I had forgotten or forgiven, but you were mistaken. A Poblath never forgets nor forgives. ‘Forgiveness is the folly of weaklings, who would trade honor for peace.’”