Jazz was vaguely aware that someone—possibly Khuv, he thought; yes, even Khuv—had murmured, My God! In that same moment the thing had elongated into a worm with a spade head, rammed itself head-first down into the sand and burrowed out of sight. “Maybe we can reach the army after dark.”
A morose swearword sounded from the big Irishman and the two officers glanced down the valley to see the British cavalry at last appear in the drizzle.