by Jean M. Auel
Then Ayla looked right, to the north, back the way they had come. The upstream valley of The River was a broad green meadow with the sparkling shimmer of sunlight reflecting off the meandering waterway glinting through the junipers, silver birches, willows, and pines, even an occasional evergreen oak, that marked its course. Upstream on the opposite bank, where The River made a sweeping turn toward the rising sun, the high cliffs and the immense overhanging shelter of the Ninth Cave could be seen.
Manvelar strode toward them, smiling in welcome. Though the gray-haired man was not young, Ayla noticed that he walked with vitality and confidence. She found it difficult to judge his age. After greetings and a few formal introductions, Manvelar led the group to an unoccupied section on the main level somewhat north of the living area. “We’re preparing a midday meal for everyone,” Manvelar announced, “but if anyone is thirsty, there’s water and some cups here.” He indicated a couple of large wet waterbags propped up against a stone, with a few woven cups stacked nearby.
Most people accepted the offer, though many had brought their personal drinking cups. It was not uncommon to take one’s own cup, bowl, and eating knife in a pouch or carryall of some kind even when going on short trips or visiting friends. Ayla brought not only her own cup, but a bowl for Wolf. People stared with fascination as the magnificent animal eagerly lapped up the water she gave him, and several smiled. It was somehow comforting to realize that the wolf, who seemed bound to the woman with an inexplicably mysterious tie, could be so ordinary as to need a drink of water.
They settled down with an air of pleasant anticipation, some people sitting on stones, some standing, waiting for things to get started. Manvelar delayed until everyone was quiet and ready, then he acknowledged a young woman who had been standing close to him.
“We’ve had watchers, both here and at Second View, for the past two days,” he said.
“That’s Second View, Ayla,” Jondalar said quietly. She looked where he indicated. Across the confluence of Two Rivers and its wide floodplain was another small rock shelter jutting out sharply from an acute corner at the beginning of the line of cliffs that paralleled The River as it continued downstream. “Although it’s separated by Grass River, the Third Cave considers Second View to be a part of Two Rivers Rock.”
Ayla looked again toward the place called Second View, then took a few steps to look over the edge down at the water. From her perspective, she could see that at its mouth, Grass River broadened out into a small fan-shaped delta as it approached the larger waterway. On the right bank of the smaller river, at the base of Two Rivers Rock, a path heading east, upstream, forked off toward the flowing water. She noticed that the offshoot trail led to the bank of Grass River at one edge of the delta where it was wide and shallow, but back from the turbulance of the confluence of Two Rivers. It was where the Third Cave crossed Grass River.
On the other side, a path continued across the valley formed by the floodplain of both rivers for about a quarter of a mile to the jutting corner abri. Small and high, it didn’t offer much shelter beneath it, but a rocky path led to the top, a stone platform from which there was an alternative view of the valleys of both rivers from the opposite side of Grass River.
“ … Thefona arrived with information just before you came,” Manvelar was saying. “I think there are a couple of possibilities for a good hunt, Joharran. We’ve been keeping track of a mixed herd of about eight giant deer with young moving this way, and Thefona has just spotted a good-sized herd of bison.”
“Either one would do, whichever we could be most assured of getting. What would you suggest?” Joharran asked.
“If it was just the Third Cave, we’d probably wait for the giant deer at The River and pick off a couple at the Crossing, but if you’re looking for a substantial kill, I’d go for the bison and drive them into a surround,” Manvelar said.
“We could do both,” Jondalar said.
Several people smiled. “He wants them all? Was Jondalar always so eager?” someone remarked, Ayla wasn’t sure who.
“Eager, yes, though not usually for hunting animals,” a woman’s voice retorted. A chorus of chuckles and laughter followed.
Ayla caught sight of the speaker. It was Kareja, the leader of the Eleventh Cave. Ayla recalled meeting her and being impressed, but she didn’t like the tone of her comments. It seemed as if she was making fun of Jondalar, and Ayla had too recently been the object of similar-sounding laughter. She looked to see how he was reacting. A flush of color tinted his face, but he made a wry grin. He’s embarrassed, Ayla thought, and trying not to show it.
“I guess that did sound a little eager, and I know it seems as if we can’t do it all, but I think we can. When we were living with the Mamutoi, Ayla, on her horse, helped the Lion Camp drive bison into a surround,” Jondalar tried to explain. “A horse can run faster than any person, and we can direct the horses where we want them to go. We can help drive those bison, and head them off when they try to break away. And you’ll see how easy it would be to bring down a giant deer with this spear-thrower. Probably more than a couple. I think you will all be surprised at what this can do.” He held up the hunting weapon as he spoke. It was a rather flat, narrow wooden shaft that seemed far too simple to do all that the returned traveler claimed for it.
“You’re saying you think we can do it all?” Joharran asked.
The gathering was interrupted by people of the Third Cave bringing food. After a leisurely midday meal, further discussion revealed that the location of the bison herd was not far from a previously built surround that could be repaired and made serviceable. They planned to spend a day repairing the corral trap, and if they could get it ready, and if the bison didn’t wander away, they would hunt the bison the morning after, but they would also watch the giant deer. Ayla listened carefully when the talk turned to the strategic planning of the hunt, but she did not volunteer herself and Whinney to help. She would see how things worked out.
“Well, let’s see this wonderful new weapon, Jondalar,” Joharran finally said.
“Yes,” Manvelar said. “You’ve made me very curious. We can use the practice field in Grass Valley.”
11
The practice field was near the foot of Two Rivers Rock and consisted of a central runway of dirt that had been trampled bare from heavy use. Even the grass around it was flattened by the many people that had been standing and walking on it. One end of the run was marked by a large section of limestone that had once been an overhanging ledge, which had fallen some unknown time before. Its formerly sharp edges were rounded with the wear of time and climbing feet. At the other end four hides were wrapped and tied around bundles of dry grass that poked through several previous spear holes. On each of the hides, the shape of a different animal was painted.
“You’ll have to move those targets farther away, at least twice the distance,” Jondalar said.
“Twice the distance?” Kareja asked, eyeing the wooden implement in his hands.
“At least.”
The object Jondalar held had been carved from a straight piece of wood and was about the length of his forearm from the ends of his extended fingers to his elbow. It was narrow and flat, with a long groove down the center and two leather loops near the front. A backstop at the rear had a tapering prong extending from it, a hook that fit into a hole carved into the butt of a light spear.
Out of a rawhide quiver, Jondalar took a flint point that was attached to a short length of wood with sinew and glue, made of boiled hooves and scraps of hide. The rear end of the short shank tapered to a rounded point. The object appeared to be a disproportionately short spear, or perhaps a land of knife with an unusual handle. Then he pulled out of a holder a long shaft that was fletched at one end with two feathers like a spear but had no point at the other. There was a murmur of curiosity from the crowd.
He inserted the tapered end of the shank that was attached to the flint point into a hole that had been carved into the front end of
the much longer shaft, and held out a two-piece, rather graceful, spear. There was an exclamation of understanding from some, but not all.
“I’ve made a few changes since I first developed this spear-throwing technique.” Jondalar said to the assembled group. “I keep trying out new ideas to see how they work. This detachable spear point turned out to be a good one. Rather than the long shaft splintering every time a spear lands wrong or breaking when an animal you’ve hit runs away, with this,” he held up the spear and separated the two pieces again, “the point will pull out of the shaft and you don’t have to make a whole new spear.”
There was an interested murmur from the crowd in response. It took time and effort to shape a spear shaft to make it straight so that it would fly true when it was thrown, and there wasn’t a hunter there who hadn’t broken one at the worst possible time.
“You may notice that this spear is somewhat smaller and more lightweight than normal spears,” Jondalar continued.
“That’s it!” Willamar exclaimed. “I knew there was something about that spear that was different, besides the fact that it’s made in two parts. It somehow seems more graceful, almost feminine. Like a ‘Mother’ spear.”
“We discovered that a lighter spear will actually fly better,” Jondalar said.
“But will it pierce?” Brameval said. “It may not go as far, but I’ve found that a spear needs some heft. If it’s too lightweight, it bounces off a thick hide, or breaks the point.”
“I think it’s time for a demonstration,” Jondalar said, picking up his holder and quiver and moving back toward the fallen rocks. He had brought spare shafts and additional detachable points, but they were not all the same. Some were tipped with flint, though each point had a slightly different shape, others were made of a long piece of carved bone, shaped to a sharp point with a base that was split to facilitate attaching to the shorter intermediate shaft. He fitted a few more spears together in readiness while Solaban and Rushemar dragged a target farther away.
“Is this far enough, Jondalar?” Solaban shouted.
Jondalar glanced at Ayla. The wolf had stationed himself beside her. She held her spear-thrower and had a long quiver on her back with extra spears already put together. She smiled at him and he smiled back, but it was a nervous smile. He had decided to begin with a demonstration and then explain and answer questions.
“It will do,” he said. It was well within range, quite close, in fact, but it would do for his first demonstration. He could be more accurate as well. He didn’t have to tell them to stand out of the way. They were all loping back, more than happy to stay clear of a spear cast with the unfamiliar implement. He waited for them to return, and while they were all looking on with expressions ranging from expectant to doubtful, he prepared to throw.
Holding the spear-thrower horizontally in his right hand, with his thumb and index fingers through the two front loops, he quickly slapped a spear into the groove. He slid it back so that the hook of the thrower, which also acted as a backstop, fit into the hole in the fletched butt end, and without hesitation he launched the spear. He did it so quickly, many people hardly noticed the way that the back end of the thrower raised up while he held on to the front with the aid of the loops, effectively adding the length of the spear-thrower to the length of his arm and thereby gaining the advantage of the additional leverage.
What they did see was a spear fly with twice the usual speed and land in the middle of the deer painted on the hide with such force that it penetrated clear through the bundle of grass. To the observers’ surprise, a second spear followed the first with nearly as much force, landing close to the same hole. Ayla had followed Jondalar’s cast with one of her own. There was a stunned silence, and then a babble of questions.
“Did you see that!”
“I didn’t see you throw, can you do it again, Jondalar?”
“That spear nearly went through the target, how did you throw it so hard?”
“Hers went through it, too. What gives them such force?”
“Can I see that thing? What do you call it? A spear-thrower?”
The last questions came from Joharran, and Jondalar gave him the implement. His brother looked it over carefully, even turning it over and noticing the simple carving of a giant deer on the back. It made him smile. He’d seen a similar carving before.
“Not bad, for a flint-knapper,” he said, indicating the carving.
“How do you know I did it?”
“I remember when you thought you might be a carver, Jondalar. I think I still have a plate you once gave me with a carving like that. But where did this come from?” he said, handing the thrower back. “And I’d like to see how you use it.”
“I worked it out when I was staying with Ayla in her valley. It’s really not difficult to use, but it does take practice to gain control. I can throw farther, but Ayla is more accurate than I am,” Jondalar explained as he picked up another spear. “Do you see this small hole that I carved into the back end of this spear?”
Joharran and several other people crowded near to see the rounded indentation.
“What’s the purpose of that?” Kareja asked.
“I’ll show you. See this hooklike projection at the back of the thrower? They fit together like this,” he said, inserting the point of the hook into the hole. He adjusted the spear so that it lay flat on the thrower, with the two feathers of the fletching on either side, then he put his thumb and index finger through the leather loops, and held the spear and the thrower together in a horizontal position. Everyone was crowding around, trying to see. “Ayla, why don’t you show them, too.” Ayla went through a similar demonstration.
“She is holding it differently,” Kareja said. “She has her first two fingers through the loops, Jondalar is using his thumb and forefinger.”
“You are very perceptive, Kareja,” Marthona remarked.
“This works best for me,” Ayla explained. “Jondalar used to hold it this way, but now he prefers to hold it his way. Either way is fine. You can hold it whatever way is most comfortable for you.”
Kareja nodded, then said, “Your spears are smaller and lighter than usual, too.”
“At first we used bigger spears, but Jondalar came up with these smaller ones after a while. They are easier to handle and better for accuracy,” Ayla said.
Jondalar continued with the demonstration. “When you throw, notice how the back of the spear-thrower raises up, giving the spear an extra push?” With the spear and thrower in his right hand, he took hold of the spear with his left to show the movement in slow motion without letting the spear drop. “That’s what gives it the extra force.”
“When that spear-thrower is fully extended, it’s as though your arm is half again as long,” Brameval said. He hadn’t said much before, and it took Ayla a moment to recall that he was the leader of the Fourteenth Cave.
“Would you throw the spear again? Show us once more how it works?” Manvelar said.
Jondalar pulled back, took aim, and let fly. The spear punched through the target again. Ayla’s spear followed a heartbeat later.
Kareja looked at the woman Jondalar had brought home and smiled. She hadn’t known Ayla was so accomplished. It rather surprised her. She had assumed the quite obviously attractive woman would be more like Marona, the one he had chosen before he left, but this woman might be worth getting to know better.
“Would you like to try it, Kareja?” Ayla asked, offering her spear-thrower.
“Yes, I would,” the leader of the Eleventh Cave said, smiling broadly. She took the thrower and examined it while Ayla got another spear shaft with a detachable point. She noticed the bison carved on the bottom and wondered if Jondalar had made it, too. It was a decent carving, not exceptional, but adequate.
Wolf wandered off while Ayla and Jondalar showed people the techniques they would have to practice in order to effectively use the new hunting weapon. While some managed to make some good distance throws, it was obvious tha
t accuracy would take more time. Ayla was standing back, watching, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see Wolf chasing something. When she caught a glimpse of it, she took her sling out of a pouch, along with a couple of smooth, rounded stones.
She placed the stone in the pouch of leather in the middle of the sling, and when the ptarmigan in full summer plumage flew up, she was ready. She hurled it at the plump bird and saw it drop. A second ptarmigan flew up, and a second stone from Ayla’s sling brought it down. By then, Wolf had found the first one. She intercepted him as he was carrying it off and took it out of his mouth, then picked up the second and carried them both by their feet. Suddenly she realized it was the right season and started looking around in the grass. She spied the nest and, with a grin of delight, picked up several eggs as well. She would be able to cook Creb’s favorite dish, ptarmigan stuffed with its own eggs.
She was pleased with herself as she walked back with Wolf at her side and didn’t notice until she drew near that everyone had stopped practicing and was staring at her. Some were smiling, but most people looked surprised. Jondalar was grinning. “Didn’t I tell you about her skill with a sling?” Jondalar said. He was feeling smug, and it showed.
“But you didn’t say she used the wolf to flush out game. With her sling and the wolf, why did you need to come up with this thing?” Joharran said, holding up the spear-thrower.
“In fact, it was her sling that gave me the idea for it,” Jondalar said, “and she didn’t have Wolf then, though she had hunted with a cave lion.”
Most people thought Jondalar was joking, although looking at the woman holding a couple of dead ptarmigan, with the wolf at her side, they weren’t sure what to believe.
