“The water never comes into my cave,” said Flame.
“But it is coming now,” cried Bolo in alarm. And sure enough, a little trickle of muddy water was running across the floor.
Flame looked at the tiny stream anxiously.
“We must roll the great rock closer,” she said.
Bolo and Fisher ran to put the big rock in place. Then they tried to daub mud about the edges to keep the water out. But it did no good. The stream was constantly growing larger, and Flame grew frightened.
“The water will put out the Great Fire,” she said. “Ah, see! It is coming in at the front of the cave, too.”
“It will drown us,” cried Fisher and Bolo in great fear. “Let us run away from it.”
As they hastened out of the cave they saw people hurrying here and there in great confusion. Bolo saw his mother with little Antelope on her arm. She was running toward the trees. He saw One Eye, too, and wondered what he had in the great skin bag he was carrying.
Everyone was screaming and calling, and everywhere he looked he saw the muddy river. It had broken over its banks and was flooding all the land. How fast it came!
Higher and higher it grew, with a great rush like the breaking of a big wave on the ocean; and before Bolo and Fisher could get to the trees it was nearly to their knees.