by Jean M. Auel
“Men of Clan come back from hunt once and tell of white rhinoceros,” Ayla said. Frebec was still irritated and scowled at her.
“Yes, the white are rare,” Ranec said, “but the black are special, too.” He was sitting back from the fire a bit and his face in shadow could hardly be seen, except for his white teeth and the roguish gleam in his eyes.
“You’re rare, all right, and more than happy to let every woman at Summer Meeting, who wants to find out, know just how rare you are,” Deegie remarked.
Ranec laughed. “Deegie, can I help it if the Mother’s own are so curious? You wouldn’t want me to disappoint anyone, would you? But I wasn’t talking about me. I was thinking about black cats.”
“Black cats?” Deegie asked.
“Wymez, I have a vague memory of a large black cat,” he said, turning to the man with whom he shared a hearth. “Do you know anything about that?”
“It must have made a very strong impression on you. I didn’t think you remembered,” Wymez said. “You were hardly more than a baby, but your mother did scream. You had wandered away, and just when she saw you, she saw this big black cat, like a snow leopard, only black, leaping out of a tree. I think she thought it was going for you, but either her scream scared it off, or that wasn’t its intention. It just kept on going, but she ran for you, and it was a long time before she let you out of her sight again.”
“Were there many black ones like that where you were?” Talut asked.
“Not too many, but they were around. They stayed in forests and were night hunters, so they were hard to see.”
“It would be as rare as the white ones here, wouldn’t it? Bison are dark, and some mammoths, but they aren’t really black. Black is special. How many black animals are there?” Ranec said.
“Today, when I go with Druwez, we see black wolf,” Ayla said. “Not ever see black wolf before.”
“Was it really black? Or just dark?” Ranec asked, very interested.
“Black. Lighter on belly, but black. Lone wolf, I think,” Ayla added. “I do not see other tracks. In pack, would be … low status. Leave, maybe, find other lone wolf, make new pack.”
“Low status? How do you know so much about wolves?” Frebec asked. There was a hint of derision in his voice, as though he didn’t want to believe her, but there was obvious interest, also.
“When I learn to hunt, I hunt only meat eaters. Only with sling. I watch close, long time. I learn about wolves. Once I see white wolf in pack. Other wolves not like her. She leave. Other wolves not like wrong color wolf.”
“It was a black wolf,” Druwez said, wanting to defend Ayla, especially after the exciting ride on the horse. “I saw it, too. I wasn’t even sure at first, but it was a wolf, and it was black. And I think it was alone.”
“Speaking of wolves, we should keep watch tonight. If there is a black wolf around, that’s all the more reason,” Talut said. “We can trade off, but someone ought to be awake and watching all night.”
“We should get some rest,” Tulie added, getting up. “We have a long hike tomorrow.”
“I’ll watch first,” Jondalar said. “When I get tired, I can wake someone.”
“You can wake me,” Talut said. Jondalar nodded.
“I watch, too,” Ayla said.
“Why don’t you watch with Jondalar? It’s a good idea to have a partner to watch with. You can keep each other awake.”
8
“It was cold last night. This meat is starting to freeze,” Deegie said, lashing a hindquarter to a packboard.
“That’s good,” Tulie said, “but there’s more than we can carry. We will have to leave some.”
“Can’t we build a cairn over it with the rocks from the fence?” Latie asked.
“We can, and we probably should, Latie. It’s a good idea,” Tulie said, preparing a load for herself that was so huge Ayla wondered how even she, as strong as she was, could carry it. “But we may not get back for it until spring, if the weather turns. If it was closer to the lodge, it would be better. Animals don’t come around as much, and we could watch it, but out here in the open if something like a cave lion, or even a determined wolverine, really wants the meat, it will find a way to break in.”
“Can’t we pour water over it to freeze it solid? That would keep animals out. It’s hard to break into a frozen cairn even with picks and mattocks,” Deegie said.
“It would keep animals out, yes, but how do you keep the sun out, Deegie?” Tornec asked. “You can’t be sure it will stay cold. It’s too early in the season.”
Ayla was listening, and watching the pile of bison parts dwindle as everyone packed as much as they could carry. She wasn’t used to surplus, to having so much that one could pick and choose and take only the best. There had always been plenty of food to eat when she lived with the Clan, and more than enough hides for clothing, bedding, and other uses, but little was wasted. She wasn’t sure how much would be left, but so much had already been thrown into the heap of scraps that it bothered her to think of leaving more, and it was obvious that no one else wanted to, either.
She noticed Danug pick up Tulie’s axe and, wielding it as easily as the woman, chop a log in two and add it to the last fire left burning. She walked over to him.
“Danug,” she said quietly. “Would help me?”
“Um … ah … yes,” he stammered bashfully, feeling his face turn red. Her voice was so low and rich and her unusual accent was so exotic. She had caught him by surprise; he hadn’t seen her coming, and standing close to the beautiful woman inexplicably flustered him.
“I need … two poles,” Ayla said, holding up two fingers. “Young trees downstream. You cut for me?”
“Ah … sure. I’ll cut down a couple of trees for you.”
As they walked toward the bend in the small river, Danug felt more relaxed, but he kept glancing down at the blond head of the woman who walked at his side and just a half-step ahead. She selected two straight young alders of approximately the same width, and after Danug chopped them down, she directed him to strip off the branches and cut the tips so that they were of equal length. By then most of the big strapping youth’s bashfulness had eased.
“What are you going to do with these?” Danug asked.
“I will show you,” she said, then with a loud, imperative whistle, she called Whinney. The mare galloped toward her. Ayla had outfitted her earlier in harness and panniers in preparation for leaving. Though Danug thought it looked odd to see a leather blanket across the horse’s back, and a pair of baskets tied to her sides with thongs, he noticed it didn’t seem to bother the animal or slow her down.
“How do you get her to do that?” Danug asked.
“Do what?”
“Come to you when you whistle.”
Ayla frowned, thinking. “I am not sure, Danug. Until Baby come, I am alone in valley with Whinney. She is only friend I know. She grow up with me, and we learn … each other.”
“Is it true that you can talk to her?”
“We learn each other, Danug. Whinney not talk like you talk. I learn … her signs … her signals. She learn mine.”
“You mean like Rydag’s signs?”
“A little. Animals, people, all have signals, even you, Danug. You say words, signals say more. You speak when you not know you speak.”
Danug frowned. He wasn’t sure he liked the drift of the conversation. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking aside.
“Now we talk,” Ayla continued. “Words not say, but signals say … you want ride horse. Is right?”
“Well … ah … yes, I’d like to.”
“So … you ride horse.”
“Do you mean it? Can I really have a ride on the horse? Like Latie and Druwez did?”
Ayla smiled. “Come here. Need big stone to help you get on first time.”
Ayla stroked and patted Whinney, and talked to her in the unique language that had developed naturally between them, the combination of Clan signs and wo
rds, nonsense sounds she had invented with her son and imbued with meaning, and animal sounds which she mimicked perfectly. She told Whinney that Danug wanted a ride, and to make it exciting but not dangerous. The young man had learned some of the Clan signs that Ayla was teaching Rydag and the Camp, and was surprised that he could make out the meaning of a few that were part of her communication with the horse, but that only filled him with more awe. She did talk to the horse, but like Mamut when he was invoking spirits, she used a mystical, powerful, esoteric language.
Whether the horse understood explicitly or not, she did understand from Ayla’s actions that something special was expected when the woman helped the tall young man on her back. To Whinney, he felt like the man she had come to know and trust. His long legs hung down low, and there was no sense of direction or control.
“Hold onto mane,” Ayla instructed. “When you want to go, lean forward little. When you want slow or stop, sit up.”
“You mean you’re not going to ride with me?” Danug said, a touch of fear quaking his voice.
“Not need me,” she said, then gave Whinney’s flank a slap.
Whinney broke away with a sudden burst of speed. Danug jerked backward, then clutching her mane to pull forward, wrapped his arms around her neck and hung on for dear life. But when Ayla rode, leaning forward was a signal to go faster. The sturdy horse of the cold plains surged ahead down the level floodplain, which had by now become quite familiar, leaping logs and brush and avoiding exposed, jagged rock and occasional trees.
At first, Danug was so petrified he could only keep his eyes squeezed shut and hang on. But after he realized he hadn’t fallen off, though he could feel the mare’s powerful muscles as he bounced with her stride, he opened his eyes a slit. His heart beat with excitement as he watched trees and brush and the ground below pass by in a blur of speed. Still holding on, he lifted his head up to look around.
He could hardly believe how far he had come. The large outcrops flanking the stream were just ahead! Vaguely, he heard a shrill whistle far behind him, and immediately noticed a difference in the horse’s pace. Whinney burst beyond the guarding rocks then, slowing only slightly, turned around in a wide circle and headed back. Though still hanging on, Danug was less fearful now. He wanted to see where they were going, and assumed a somewhat more upright position, which Whinney interpreted as a signal to slow a little.
The grin on Danug’s face as the horse approached made Ayla think of Talut, especially when he was pleased with himself. She could see the man in the boy. Whinney pranced to a stop, and Ayla led her to the rock so Danug could get down. He was so ecstatic he could hardly speak, but he could not stop smiling. He had never considered riding fast on the back of a horse—it was beyond his imagination—and the experience went beyond his wildest expectations. He would never forget it.
His grin made Ayla smile every time she glanced at him. She attached the poles to Whinney’s harness and when they returned to the campsite, he was still grinning.
“What’s wrong with you?” Latie asked. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“I rode the horse,” Danug answered. Latie nodded and smiled.
Nearly everything that could be taken away from the hunting site had been lashed to packboards, or wrapped in skins ready to be swung hammocklike from stout poles carried across the shoulders of two people. There were still haunches and rolled hides left, but not as much as Ayla thought there might be. As with hunting and butchering, more could be taken back to the winter camp when everyone worked together.
Several people had noticed that Ayla was not preparing a load to carry back, and wondered where she had gone, but when Jondalar saw her return with Whinney dragging the poles, he knew what she had in mind. She rearranged the poles so that the thicker ends were crossed just above the basket panniers across the mare’s withers and fastened to the harness, and the narrow ends angled out behind the horse and rested easily on the ground. Then between the two poles, she attached a makeshift platform made out of the tent covering, using branches for support. The people stopped to watch her, but it wasn’t until she began transferring the balance of the bison parts to the travois that anyone guessed its purpose. She also filled up the panniers, and put the last of it on a packboard to carry herself. When she was through, much to everyone’s surprise, there was nothing left in the stack.
Tulie looked at Ayla and the horse, with the travois and panniers, obviously impressed. “I never thought of using a horse to carry a load,” she said. “In fact, it never occurred to me to use a horse for anything except food—until now.”
Talut threw dirt on the fire, stirred it around to make sure it was out. Then he hoisted his heavy packboard to his back, drew his haversack over his left shoulder, picked up his spear, and started out. The rest of the hunters followed him. Jondalar had wondered ever since he first met the Mamutoi why they made their packs to be worn over only one shoulder. As he adjusted his packboard to fit comfortably across his back, and pulled his haversack over his shoulder, he suddenly understood. It allowed them to carry fully loaded packboards on their backs. They must carry large quantities often, he thought.
Whinney walked behind Ayla, her head close to the woman’s shoulder. Jondalar, leading Racer by the halter, walked beside her. Talut fell back and walked just in front of them, and they exchanged a few words while they hiked. As people trudged along under their heavy loads, Ayla noticed an occasional glance in the direction of her and the horse.
After a while, Talut began humming a rhythmic tune under his breath. Soon, he was vocalizing sounds in time with their steps:
“Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na.
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya.
Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na.
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya!”
The rest of the group joined in, repeating the syllables and the tone. Then, with a mischievous grin, Talut, keeping the same tones and pace, looked at Deegie and changed to words.
“What is pretty Deegie wishing?
Branag, Branag, share my bed.
Where is pretty Deegie going?
Home to empty furs instead.”
Deegie blushed, but smiled, while everyone chuckled knowingly. When Talut repeated the first question, the rest of the group joined in on the answer, and after the second, they sang out the reply. Then they joined Talut in singing the refrain.
“Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na,
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya!”
They repeated it several times, then Talut improvised another verse.
“How does Wymez spend the winter?
Making tools and wanting fun.
How does Wymez spend the summer?
Making up for having none!”
Everyone laughed, except Ranec. He roared. When the verse was repeated by the group, the usually undemonstrative Wymez turned red at the gentle jab. The toolmaker’s habit of taking advantage of the Summer Meetings to compensate for his essentially celibate winter life was well known.
Jondalar was enjoying the teasing and joking as much as the others. It was just the kind of thing his people might do. But at first, Ayla didn’t quite understand the situation, or the humor, especially when she noticed Deegie’s embarrassment. Then she saw it was done with good-natured smiling and laughter, and the jibes were taken in good grace. She was beginning to understand verbal humor, and the laughter itself was contagious. She, too, smiled at the verse directed at Wymez.
Talut started the refrain of measured syllables again when everyone quieted down. Everyone joined him, anticipating now.
“Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na,
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya!”
Talut looked at Ayla, then, with a smug grin, began:
“Who wants Ayla’s warm affection?
Two would like to share her furs.
Who will be the rare selection?
Black or white the choice is hers.”
It pleased Ayla to be included in the joking, and thou
gh she wasn’t sure if she completely understood the meaning of the verse, she flushed with warmth because it was about her. Thinking about the previous night’s conversation, she thought the rare black and white must refer to Ranec and Jondalar. Ranec’s delighted laughter confirmed her suspicion, but Jondalar’s strained smile bothered her. He wasn’t enjoying the joking now.
Barzec then picked up the refrain, and even Ayla’s untrained ear detected a fine and distinctive quality in the timbre and tone of his voice. He, too, smiled at Ayla, signaling who would be the subject of his teasing verse.
“How will Ayla choose a color?
Black is rare but so is white.
How will Ayla choose a lover?
Two can warm her furs at night!”
Barzec glanced at Tulie, while everyone repeated his verse, and she rewarded him with a look of tenderness and love. Jondalar, however, frowned, unable to maintain even the appearance that he was enjoying the direction the teasing had taken. He did not like the idea of sharing Ayla with anyone, particularly the charming carver.
Ranec picked up the refrain next, and the rest quickly joined in.
“Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na.
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya!”
He did not look at anyone, at first, wanting to maintain some suspense. Then he flashed a big, toothy smile at Talut, the instigator of the teasing song, and everyone laughed in advance, waiting for Ranec to make a telling point on the one who had caused the others to squirm.
“Who’s big and tall and strong and wise?
Lion Camp’s own red-haired brute.
Who wields a tool to match his size?
Every woman’s friend, Talut!”