The Formians, and the few renegade Cupians who fought with them under the banners of Yuri, were prepared for an attack, by reason of Cabot’s message which had been flashed to the capital, but they were totally unprepared for such an attack as this. The ant sentinels, eagerly scanning the opposing row of hills for the first appearance of the foot troops of Cabot, were picked off by fire from the air almost before they could give warning. Then the animated planes swept on and began bombing the hastily assembling Formians.
Close in the wake of the bees, came the foot troops of Cupia, surging across the plain and easily mopping up the demoralized Formians.
Soon, however, appeared the battle planes of the ants; but they were surprised and bewildered at the new aerial tactics of their enemies. They had fought against bees before; but never before against bees manned with sharpshooters. And so, although the advance of the striped fleet was stayed and many bees were shot down, an equal number of planes fell victims of the encounter.
By night the Cupians had consolidated their position to the south of Lake Luno, and Cabot had established his headquarters in the ruins of Luno Castle.
That evening, at a conference with his generals, it was decided that it would not do for the advance to continue too precipitately. In the first place, the air force ought not to be permitted to get too far ahead of the infantry. And in the second place, the casualties among the bees had been altogether too high. Planes could be rebuilt by the Formians, but bees could not be bred to order for Cupia. This was something which Cabot had not figured on.
So, now that the first shock attack was over, the advance progressed more slowly in the days that followed, strategy taking the place of brute force. Captured airplanes were repaired and manned by ex-flyers of the old Cupian air navy, and were used whenever possible in place of the bees, but still the mortality of these winged allies continued, until it became evident that, unless something were speedily done, the ant-men would soon regain control of the air. But what was to be done?
One day an aviator from a distant point on the front landed at headquarters with a message. As he stood talking to Myles Cabot, he suddenly remarked: “Why, I left my engine running. How careless of me!”
And he looked intently at his plane for a moment, whereat the motor ceased its purring.
“How did that happen?” Cabot exclaimed. “Does your engine stop whenever you want it to?”
“I merely spoke to it, and it obeyed me,” answered the Cupian, simply, yet with suppressed pride. “There are several of us in the air service who have learned that trick.”