And the wind was rising again.
Enclosed by raging wildfire, the only place in the vicinity that promised any safety was the stream. Barely a few feet wide and not as deep, it offered only temporary shelter at best to Ehomba and Simna. Hunkapa Aub and Ahlitah were far too bulky to be able to conceal themselves beneath the rushing waters.
Had they made an immediate charge, they might have succeeded in bursting through the oncoming flames with only minor burns. Already, that option was denied them. Like the grassland behind, the fresh growth ahead was now fully engulfed.
With the flames advancing and the heat rising from the merely uncomfortable to the unbearable, they clustered together. Trapped within his thick, shaggy coat, Hunkapa Aub was suffering terribly and on the verge of passing out. They had to do something quickly.
Head inclined forward, Ehomba was searching the tops of the grasses intently. An agitated Simna watched him, wondering what he was doing when they should be picking a direction in which to make a run for it.
“Bruther, there’s nothing there but grass!” Above the roar of the approaching flames he gestured sharply to his left. “I say we try back to the west. The stream should delay the fire for a minute or two!” Instead of responding, the herdsman maintained his intent exploration of the wind-whipped yellow-green blades. “Etjole! We’re out of time! What are you looking for?”
His lanky friend replied without looking up from his search. “Tomuwog burrows! They are our only chance.”