And then a thick black suffocating pall of smoke drove low over the sand-bar and with it came air that was furnace-hot.
At the uttermost end of the sand-bar Kazan and Gray Wolf rolled themselves into balls and thrust their heads under their bodies.

The fire was very near now.

The roar of it was like that of a great cataract, with now and then a louder crash of falling trees.

The air was filled with ash and burning sparks, and twice Kazan drew forth his head to snap at blazing embers that fell upon and seared him like hot irons.
Close along the edge of the stream grew thick green bush, and when the fire reached this, it burned more slowly, and the heat grew less.

Still, it was a long time before Kazan and Gray Wolf could draw forth their heads and breathe more freely.