like four hundred airplanes were assembled, with
several batteries of anti-aircraft guns that had been used in the Great
War. Every amateur aviator in Australia was on the spot, with machines
ranging from tiny Moths to Handley-Pages--anything that could fly.

Nocturnal though the beetles had been, they no longer feared the light
of the sun. In fact, it was ascertained later that they were blind. An
opacity had formed over the crystalline lens of the eye. Blind, they
were no less formidable than with their sight. They existed only to
devour, and their numbers made them irresistible, no matter which way
they turned.

As soon as the vanguard of the dark cloud was sighted from Broken Hill,
the airplanes went aloft. Four hundred planes, each armed with machine
guns, dashed into the serried hosts, drumming out volleys of lead. In a
long line, extending nearly to the limits of the beetle formation, thus
giving each aviator all the room he needed, the planes gave battle.

* * * * *

The first terror that fell upon the airmen was the discovery that, even
at close range, the machine gun bullets failed to penetrate the shells.
The force of the impact whirled the beetles around, drove them together
in bunches, sent them groping with weaving tentacles through the
air--but that was all. On the main body of the invaders no impression
was made whatever.

The second terror was the realization that the swarm, driven down here
and there from an altitude of several hundred feet, merely resumed their
progress on the ground, in a succession of gigantic leaps. Within a few
minutes, instead of presenting an inflexible barrier, the line of
airplanes was badly broken, each plane surrounded by swarms of the
monsters.

Then Bram was seen. And that was the third terror, the sight of the
famous beetle steeds, four pairs abreast, with Bram reclining like a
Roman emperor upon the surface of the shells. It is true, Bram had no
inclination to risk his own life in battle. At the first sight of the
aviators he dodged into the thick of the swarm, where no bullet could
reach him. Bram managed to transmit an order, and the beetles drew
together.

Some thought afterward that it was by thought transference he effected
this maneuver, for instantly the beetles, which had hitherto flown in
loose order, became a solid wall, a thousand feet in height, closing in
on the planes. The propellers struck them and snapped short, and