by Jean M. Auel
“Oh, that’s terrible!” Nezzie said.
“What kind of sickness do they have?” Ayla asked.
“It seems to be in the chest. High fever, deep cough, and hard to breathe.”
“How far is this place?” Ayla asked.
“Don’t you know?”
“Ayla was a visitor, but she has been adopted,” Tulie said. Then she turned to Ayla. “It is not too far.”
“Can we go there, Tulie? Or can someone take me there? If those children are sick, maybe I can help.”
“I don’t know. What do you think, Talut?”
“It’s out of the way if the Summer Meeting is going to be held at Wolf Camp, and they are not even related, Tulie.”
“I think Darnev had distant kin at that Camp,” Tulie said. “And it is a shame for a young brother and sister to be so sick.”
“Perhaps we should go, but we should leave, then, as soon as we can,” Talut said.
Ludeg had been listening with great interest. “Well, now that I’ve told you my news, I’d like to know about the Lion Camp’s new member, Talut. Is she really a Healer? And where did the wolf come from? I never heard of having a wolf in a lodge.”
“And that’s not all,” Frebec said. “Ayla has two horses, a mare and a young stallion, too.”
The visitor looked at Frebec in disbelief, then settled back and prepared to listen to the stories the Lion Camp had to tell.
In the morning, after a long night of storytelling, Ludeg was given an example of Ayla’s and Jondalar’s horse-riding skills, and was suitably impressed. He left for the next Camp ready to spread the word of the new Mamutoi woman, along with his news of the changed location of the Summer Meeting. The Lion Camp planned to leave the next morning, and the balance of the day was spent in last-minute preparations.
Ayla decided to take more medicines than she usually carried in her medicine bag, and was going through her supply of herbs, talking with Mamut while he packed. The Clan Gathering was much on her mind, and watching the old shaman favor his stiff joints, she recalled that the old people of the Clan, unable to make the long trek, had been left behind. How was Mamut going to manage a long trip? It bothered her enough to go outside and look for Talut, to ask.
“I carry him most of the way, on my back,” Talut explained.
She noticed Nezzie adding a bundle to the pile of things that would be hauled on the travois by the horses. Rydag was sitting on the ground nearby looking disconsolate. Suddenly Ayla went looking for Jondalar. She found him arranging the traveling pack Tulie had given him.
“Jondalar! There you are,” she said.
He looked up, startled. She was the last person he expected to see at that moment. He had just been thinking about her, and how to say goodbye to her. He had decided this was the time, when everyone was leaving the lodge, for him to leave, too. But instead of going with the Lion Camp to the Summer Meeting, he would go the other way and begin his long trek home.
“Do you know how Mamut gets to the Summer Meeting?” Ayla asked.
The question took him entirely by surprise. It was not the most pressing thing on his mind. He wasn’t even sure what she was talking about. “Uh … no,” he said.
“Talut has to carry him, on his back. And then there’s Rydag. He has to be carried, too. I was thinking, Jondalar, you’ve been training Racer, he’s used to carrying someone on his back now, isn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you can control him, he will go where you want him to, won’t he?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good! Then there’s no reason Mamut and Rydag can’t ride to the Meeting on the horses. They can’t guide them, but you and I can lead them. It would be so much easier on everyone, and Rydag has been so unhappy lately, it might raise his spirits. Remember how excited he was the first time he rode on Whinney? You don’t mind, do you, Jondalar? We don’t need to ride, everyone else is walking,” Ayla said.
She was so pleased and excited about the idea it was obvious she hadn’t even considered that he might not be going with them. How could he refuse her? he thought. It was a good idea, and the Lion Camp had done so much for him, it seemed the least he could do.
“No. I don’t mind walking,” Jondalar said. He felt a strange sense of lightness as he watched Ayla go to tell Talut, as though a terrible weight had been lifted. He hurried to finish packing, then picking up his gear, went to join the rest of the Camp. Ayla was supervising the loading of the two travois. They were nearly ready to go.
Nezzie saw him coming and smiled at him. “I’m glad you decided to come with us and help Ayla with the horses. Mamut is going to be much more comfortable, I think, and look at Rydag! I haven’t seen him this excited about going to a Summer Meeting ever.”
Why did he have the feeling, Jondalar wondered, that Nezzie knew he had been thinking of going home?
“And think what an impression it will make when we arrive not only with horses, but with people riding on them,” Barzec said.
“Jondalar, we were waiting for you. Ayla wasn’t sure who should ride on which horse,” Talut said.
“I don’t think it makes any difference,” Jondalar said. “Whinney is a little easier to ride. She doesn’t bounce you as hard.”
He noticed that Ranec was helping Ayla balance the loads. He cringed inwardly when he saw them laughing together, and realized how temporary his reprieve was. He had only put off the inevitable, but he was committed now. After Mamut made mysterious gestures and spoke esoteric words, he stuck a muta in the ground at the front entrance to guard the lodge, and then with help from Ayla and Talut, mounted Whinney He seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell. Jondalar thought he was hiding it well.
Rydag was not nervous, though, he had been on the back of a horse before. He was just excited when the tall man picked him up and put him on Racer’s back. He had never ridden the stallion. He grinned at Latie, who was watching him, with a mixture of concern for his safety, delight at his new experience, and just a bit of envy. She had observed Jondalar training the horse, as much as she could from a distance, since it was hard to convince another woman to go with her just to stand around and watch—there were drawbacks to adulthood. She decided training a young horse wasn’t necessarily magical. It just took patience, and of course, a horse to train.
A last check was made of the Camp, and then they started up the slope. Halfway up, Ayla stopped. Wolf did too, watching her expectantly. She looked back at the earthlodge where she had found a home and acceptance among her own kind. She missed its snug security already, but it would be there when they returned, ready to shelter them again through a long cold winter. Wind riffled the drape across the archway of mammoth tusks at the entrance, and she could see the skull of the cave lion above it. The Lion Camp seemed lonely without people. Ayla of the Mamutoi shivered with a sudden uneasy pang of sadness.
30
The great grasslands, bountiful source of life in that cold land, displayed yet another face of the renewing cycle as the Lion Camp traveled. The bluish-violet and yellow flowers of the last dwarf iris were fading but still colorful, and fernleaf peonies were in full bloom. A broad bed of the dark red blossoms filling the entire depression between two hills caused exclamations of wonder and appreciation from the travelers. But it was the young bluegrass and ripening fescue and feather grasses that predominated, turning the steppes into waves of softly billowing silver accented by shadows of blue sage. Not until later, after the young grass grew ripe and the feather grass lost its plumes, would the rich plains change from silver to golden.
The young wolf took delight in discovering the multitude of small animals that lived and thrived on the vast prairie. He dashed after polecats and stoats—ermine in summer-brown coats—and backed off when the dauntless predators held their ground. When mice, voles, and velvety-furred shrews, who were used to evading foxes, scurried into holes burrowed just below the surface, Wolf chased gerbils, hamsters, and long-eared, prickly hedgehogs. Ayla
laughed at his look of startled surprise when a thick-tailed jerboa, with short forelegs, and three toes on its long hind legs, bounded away in jumps and dived into the burrow in which it had hibernated all winter. Hares, giant hamsters, and great jerboas were large enough for a meal, and tasty when skinned and skewered over an evening fire. Ayla’s sling brought down several that Wolf flushed.
The digging steppe rodents were beneficial, loosening and turning over the topsoil, but some changed the character of the land with their extensive burrowing. As the Lion Camp hiked overland, the ubiquitous holes of spotted susliks were too numerous to count, and in some areas they had to wend their way around hundreds of grass-covered mounds, two to three feet high, each a community of steppe marmots.
Susliks were the preferred prey of black kites, though the long-winged hawks also fed on other rodents, and carrion and insects as well. The graceful birds usually detected the unsuspecting susliks while soaring in the air, but the kite could also hover like a kestrel, the native falcon, or fly very low to take its prey by surprise. Besides hawks and falcons, the tawny eagle favored the prolific little rodent. On one occasion, when Ayla noticed Wolf striking a pose that caused her to look closer, she saw one of the large dark brown predatory birds land near its nest on the ground, bringing a suslik to its young. She watched with interest, but neither she nor the wolf disturbed them.
A host of other birds lived off the bounty of the open land. Larks and pipits were everywhere on the steppes, willow grouse, ptarmigan, and partridges, sand grouse and great bustards, and beautiful demoiselle cranes, bluish-gray with black heads and white tufts of feathers behind the eyes. They arrived to nest in spring, flourished on a diet of insects, lizards, and snakes, and left in fall in great V-shaped formations, trumpeting across the sky.
Talut had started out by setting a pace that he was accustomed to using when traveling with the whole Camp, one that would not push the slower members of the band too hard. But he found they were moving much faster than usual. The horses were making a difference. By carrying gifts, trade goods, and hides for tents on the travois, and the people who had to be helped on their backs, they had lightened everyone’s load. The headman was pleased at their increased pace, especially since they were going out of their way, but it also presented a problem. He had planned the route they would take, and the stops, to take advantage of certain known watering places. Now, he was having to reconsider as he went.
They had stopped near a small river, though it was still early in the day. The steppes sometimes gave way to woods near water, and they set up camp in a large field partially surrounded by trees. After Ayla removed the travois from Whinney, she decided to take Latie for a ride. The girl enjoyed helping with the horses, and the animals showed a strong attachment in return. As they rode double through a small grove of trees, a mixture of spruce, birch, hornbeam, and larch, they came to a flowering glade, a small luxuriant meadow that was a verdant piece of the steppes, enclosed by trees. Ayla stopped, and whispered quietly into the ear of the young woman sitting astride the horse in front of her.
“Be very still, Latie, but look over there, near the water.”
Latie looked where Ayla indicated, frowned at first when she couldn’t see anything, then smiled when she saw a saiga antelope hind with two small young ones raise her head, wary, but uncertain. Then Latie saw several others. The spiral horns grew straight out of the head of the small antelope, tipping back slightly at the end, and its large nose overhung, giving it a distinctive long face.
Sitting quietly on the back of the horse, watching, the sound of birds became noticeable: the cooing of doves, the merry lilt of a warbler, the call of a woodpecker. Ayla heard the beautiful flutelike note of a golden oriole, and gave it back, mimicking so exactly it confused the bird. Latie wished she could whistle like that.
Ayla gave Whinney a slight signal that edged her slowly toward the parklike opening in the woods. Latie almost shook with excitement when they drew near the antelope, and she saw another hind with two young ones. Suddenly there was a shift in wind, and all the saigas lifted their heads, and in an instant were bounding through the woods toward the open steppes. A streak of gray followed them, and Ayla knew who had caused them to run.
By the time Wolf returned, panting, and plopped down, Whinney was grazing peacefully, and the two young women were sitting in the sunny meadow picking wild strawberries. A handful of colorful flowers was on the ground beside Ayla, bright red blooms with long thin petals that appeared to have been dipped in a bright red dye, and bunches of large golden-yellow flower heads, mixed in with white, downy spheres.
“I wish there was enough to bring some back,” Ayla said, putting another tiny, but exceptionally sweet and flavorful berry in her mouth.
“There would have to be a lot more. I wish there was more for me,” Latie said, with a big smile. “Besides, I want to think of this as a special place, just for us, Ayla.” She put a strawberry in her mouth and closed her eyes, savoring the taste. Her expression turned thoughtful. “Those baby antelope, they really were young, weren’t they? I never was that close to such young ones before.”
“It’s Whinney, that’s why we can get so close. Antelopes aren’t afraid of horses. But Wolf there,” Ayla said, looking toward the animal. He looked up at the sound of his name. “He’s the one who chased them away.”
“Ayla, can I ask you something?”
“Of course. You can always ask something.
“Do you think I could find a horse someday? I mean a little one, that I could take care of the way you took care of Whinney, so it would get used to me.”
“I don’t know. I didn’t plan to find Whinney. It just happened. It would be hard to find a little one. All mothers protect their young.”
“If you wanted to get another horse, a little horse, how would you do it?”
“I never thought about it … I suppose if I wanted a young horse … let me think … you’d have to catch its mother. Remember the bison hunt last fall? If you were hunting horses, and drove a herd in a surround like that, you wouldn’t have to kill them all. You could keep a young one or two. Maybe you could even separate a young one from the rest, and then let the others go, if you didn’t need them.” Ayla smiled. “I find it harder to hunt horses, now.”
When they returned, most people were sitting around a large fire, eating. The two young women helped themselves and sat down.
“We saw some saigas,” Latie said. “Even little ones.”
“I think you saw some strawberries, too,” Nezzie commented dryly, seeing her daughter’s red-stained hands. Latie blushed, remembering that she had wanted to keep them all for herself.
“There weren’t enough to bring any back,” Ayla said.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I know Latie and strawberries. She would eat a whole field of them, without sharing any, if she had the chance.”
Ayla noticed Latie’s embarrassment, and changed the subject. “I also picked some coltsfoot for coughs, for the sick Camp, and a red-flowered plant—I don’t know the name—whose root is very good for deep coughs and bringing up phlegm from the chest,” she said.
“I didn’t know that was why you were picking those flowers,” Latie said. “How do you know they have that kind of sickness?”
“I don’t know, but since I saw the plants, I thought I might as well get some, especially since we were so sick with that kind of sickness. How long before we get there, Talut?”
“It’s hard to tell,” the headman said. “We’re traveling faster than usual. We should reach the Sungaea Camp in another day or so, I think. The map Ludeg made for me was very good, but I hope we’re not too late. Their sickness is worse than I thought.”
Ayla frowned. “How do you know?”
“I found signs that were left by someone.”
“Signs?” Ayla said.
“Come with me. I’ll show you,” Talut said, putting his cup down and getting up. He led her to a pile of bones near the water. Bon
es, particularly big ones such as skulls, could be found all over the plains, but as they drew near, it was obvious to Ayla that it was not a natural arrangement. Someone had purposefully stacked them up. A mammoth skull with broken tusks had been placed on top of the heap, upside down.
“That is a sign of bad news,” Talut said, pointing to the skull. “Very bad. Do you see this lower jaw, with the two spine bones leaning against it? The point of the jaw shows which way to go, and the Camp is two days away.”
“They must need help, Talut! Is that why they put this sign here?”
Talut pointed to a piece of charred birchbark, held down by the broken end of the left tusk. “See this?” he said.
“Yes. It’s burned black, like it was in a fire.”
“It means sickness, killing sickness. Someone has died. People are afraid of that kind of sickness, and this is a place people often stop. That sign was not put here to ask for help, but to warn people away.”
“Oh, Talut! I must go. The rest of you don’t have to, but I must go. I can leave now, on Whinney.”
“And what will you tell them when you get there?” Talut said. “No, Ayla. They won’t let you help. No one knows you. They are not even Mamutoi, they are Sungaea. We have talked about it. We knew you would want to go. We started out this way, and we will go with you. I think, because of the horses, we can make it in one day instead of two.”
The sun was skimming the edge of the earth when the band of travelers from the Lion Camp approached a large settlement situated on a broad natural terrace some thirty feet above a wide, swift river. They stopped when they were noticed by some people, who stared in amazement before running toward one of the shelters. A man and a woman emerged. Their faces were reddened with a salve of ochre, and their hair was covered with ashes.
It’s too late, Talut thought, as he and Tulie approached the Sungaea Camp, followed by Nezzie and Ayla, who was leading Whinney with Mamut on her back. It was obvious they had interrupted something important. When the visitors were about ten feet away, the man with the red-colored face raised his arm and held up his hand, palm facing front. It was an obvious signal to stop. He spoke to Talut in a language that was different, yet there was something familiar about it to Ayla. She felt she should be able to understand it; a similarity to Mamutoi, perhaps. Talut answered, in his own language. Then the man spoke again.
