In the past, Moawha informed them, this armor had proved a great protection in battle but she was now afraid of the new methods of warfare that Toplinsky would introduce.
“And well may you be afraid,” Joan said. “But fortunately there has not yet been a serious attack on the wall, and if you leave things to Julian I am sure he will save your people.”
“G’wan,” Billy snorted indignantly. “I haven’t gone anywhere, and I’m something of a fighter myself.”
Again they discovered that they were talking too loud. Their guide, when he pointed to the wall, disappeared, and now, when they heard a chirping sound behind them, they turned apprehensively. Their fears were warranted. A band of crickets was entering the ravine behind them, and hailing them. As they did not understand the cricket chirpings they decided to ignore them.
They hopped quickly toward the wall. Their movements were clumsy, the shells which covered their backs were heavy, and the sharp eyes of the crickets discovered that they were not what they represented themselves to be. A sharp, shrill, terrifying chirp went out, and the crickets rushed at them in a body, brandishing their sharp pronged spears.
Putting forth all their efforts they rushed toward the wall. The crickets pursued, chirping angrily, and gradually drawing nearer. That they would be overtaken was obvious.
“Throw off the shells, and run for it,” Epworth urged. “Hurry.”
He was obeyed, and soon the four were fast-footing over the uneven ground. They gained some but in discarding their disguises they lost much of their original position, and the crickets began to hop dangerously near.
At this moment curious faces were thrust against the copper wall on the other side. Moawha shouted at them in her language. At first they did not answer, and several crickets hopped in front of her.
Epworth and Billy acted in concert, firing their pistols. This brought them to a stop.