As soon as each mule got its feet it whirled and was away.
No chance to hold one of them now, and if she had mounted a hobbled animal it had meant nothing.

But she saw them go toward the stream, toward the camp.

She must run that way herself.
It was so far! There was a faint smell of smoke and a mysterious low humming in the air.

Was it too late?
A swift, absurd, wholly useless memory came to her from the preceding day.

Yes, it would be no more than a prayer, but she would send it out blindly into the air....