Not entirely sure about this one, but here we go.
The dust devil rose on the horizon, where the lake met the river. It wound lazily among the clouds.
She gaped at it for a heartbeat, than snatched the basket of clothes and ran back to the house. Bare feet slid in the mud, but she didn’t dare slow down.
She looked back only once. All the fishing boats were coming in.
Her mother and aunts were in the front yard, shelling peas and laughing.
“It’s coming!” she gasped. “The dust devil. Over the lake.”
Her mother frowned. “Are you sure – you must be. Give me that. Get the children.”