by Jean M. Auel
"You had a head start, so I won," Jondalar said as they reached the opposite shore of the small lake and flopped to the ground, breathing hard.
"You should have challenged me first," Ayla answered, laughing. "We both won."
They swam at a more leisurely pace back to the other side as the sun passed its zenith and was starting its descent, signaling the last half of the day. They were a little sad as they repacked their things, knowing their idyllic respite was nearly over. They mounted the horses and headed in the direction of the Summer Meeting camp, but Ayla missed Wolf and wished he was with them.
They were approaching the campsite, perhaps a few miles away, when they heard shouts amid clouds of dust rising from the dry earth of the plains. Riding closer, they saw several young men who probably shared one of the bachelor fa'lodges, and from the glimpse of decoration on their clothing, Jondalar thought they were mostly from the Fifth Cave. Each one held a spear, and they were spaced out in a rough circle, in the middle of which was a beast with a long shaggy coat and two huge horns protruding from his snout.
It was a woolly rhinoceros, a massive creature, eleven and a half feet in length and five feet high. He was a ponderous beast, with short, thick, stubby legs to support his immense bulk. He ate huge quantities of the grasses, herbs, and brush of the steppes, as well as the twigs and branches of evergreens and willows that lined the banks of the rivers. His nostrils were partitioned, and his eyes were on the sides of his head. He could not see well, especially in front, but his senses of smell and hearing were particularly acute and discerning to make up for his poor eyesight.
The front one of his two horns was more than a yard long, heavy and vicious looking as it swept the ground in an arc from side to side. In winter he could use it to sweep snow away and expose the dried, recumbent steppe grasses that lay underneath. A thick, woolly, light grayish-brown fleece covered his body, with longer outer hair hanging down, nearly brushing the ground. A wide distinctive band of fur around the middle of the rhino was a shade darker and looked, Ayla thought, as though someone had covered him with a saddle blanket, not that anyone would dream of riding such a tremendously powerful, unpredictable, sometimes malicious, and very dangerous animal.
The woolly rhinoceros pawed the ground, turning his head from side to side, trying to see the young man that his sensitive nose told him was there. Suddenly he charged. The man stood his ground until, at the very last moment, he dodged aside, and the long, forward-pointing horn of the rhinoceros barely missed him.
"That looks dangerous," Ayla said as they pulled up the horses a safe distance away.
"That's why they're doing it," Jondalar said. "Woolly rhinos are difficult to hunt under any circumstances. They are mean tempered and unpredictable."
"Like Broud," Ayla said. "The woolly rhino was his totem. The
Clan men hunted them, but I never watched them. What are they doing?"
"They're baiting him, see? Each man tries to get his attention to make him charge, then they dodge away when he comes near. They are making a sport of wearing him down, trying to see who can let the rhino come closest before they jump aside. The bravest is the one who can feel the beast brush past as he charges. It's usually young men who like to hunt rhinoceros like that," Jondalar explained.
"If they kill one, they give the meat to the Cave, and get lots of praise for it. Then they share the other parts, but the one who gets credited with the kill gets first choice. He will usually take the horn. The horns are prized, they say, for making tools, knife handles, and such, but more likely it's for other reasons. Probably because its shape resembles a man in heat for Pleasures, there are rumors that grinding up the horn and secretly giving it to a woman will make her more passionate for the man who gave it to her," Jondalar said with a smile.
"The meat is not bad, and there's a lot of fat under that heavy coat," Ayla said. "It's rare to see one, though."
"Especially this time of year," Jondalar said. "Woolly rhinos are solitary animals most of the time, and usually scarce around here in summer. They like it colder, even though they shed the soft fur under the long outer hair every spring. It gets caught in bushes before they leaf out, and people like to go out and collect it, particularly weavers and basket-makers. I used to go with my mother. We did it several times a year. She knows when all the animals shed, ibex and mouflon, musk-ox, even horses and lions, and of course, mammoths and woolly rhinos."
"Have you ever baited a rhinoceros, Jondalar?"
The man laughed. "Yes, most men do, especially when they are young. They bait lots of animals like that, aurochs bulls and bison, but they like to bait rhinos best. Some women do, too. Jetamio did, the time I showed them how to hunt a rhino. She was the Sharamudoi woman who became Thonolan's mate. She was good at it. They didn't usually hunt rhinos. They hunted the huge sturgeon of the Great Mother River from those boats they showed you, and ibex and chamois up high in the mountains, which are very hard to hunt, but they didn't know the techniques to hunt woolly rhinos." He paused and looked sad. "It was because of a rhino that we met the Sharamudoi. Thonolan had gotten gored by one, and they saved his life."
They watched as the young men played their dangerous game.
One man, standing out in the open shouting and waving his arms, was trying to make the rhino charge. The animal's usually keen sense of smell was confused by so many men arrayed around him. When he finally detected movement with his small, nearsighted eyes, he started in that direction, gaining speed as he drew closer to his antagonist. For all his short legs, the animal could move remarkably fast. He lowered his head a bit as he neared, preparing to ram his massive horn into a resistive mass. It encountered air instead as the man deftly spun around and moved aside. It took a moment for the beast to realize his charge had been in vain and slow to a halt.
The rhino was baffled and getting tired and angry. He pawed the ground as the men quickly deployed in a new circle around him. Another man stepped out, shouting and waving to draw the huge brute's attention. The rhino turned and charged again, and the man darted away. The next time it took longer to entice him to charge. They seemed to be succeeding in tiring the rhino. The exhausting, infuriating bursts of energy were taking their toll.
The great beast stood still, head drooping, breathing heavily. The men tightened the circle, closing in for the kill. The man whose turn it was to draw the beast out moved in cautiously, spear held in readiness. The rhino appeared not to notice. As the man drew near, the unpredictable beast caught the movement with his weak eyes. His flagging strength, revived by the short rest, was goaded by the fury that filled his primordial brain.
Without warning, the rhino charged again. It happened so fast that the man was unprepared. The huge woolly beast finally succeeded in thrusting his massive horn into something more solid than air. They heard an agonized scream and the man was down. When Ayla heard it, without thinking she urged her horse forward.
"Ayla! Wait! It's too dangerous!" Jondalar called after her, prodding his own mount as he readied his spear-thrower.
The other men were hurling their spears even as Jondalar spoke. When Ayla jumped off her still-moving horse and ran toward the wounded man, the huge beast lay crumpled in a heap; several spears, a couple from a spear-thrower, were sticking out of his body in every direction, like the quills of some enormous grotesque porcupine. But the kill was too late. The enraged beast had had his satisfaction.
Several young men, looking scared and lost, were ranged around the fallen man, who was crumpled, unconscious where he dropped. As Ayla approached them with Jondalar close behind, they appeared surprised to see her, and it seemed for a moment that one was going to bar her way or ask who she was, but she ignored him. She turned him over and checked his breathing, and pulled out her knife to cut away blood-soaked leggings from his leg, her hands already colored from the task. There was a smear of red on her face where she had unconsciously pushed aside a strand of hair. She didn't have any Zelandoni marks on her face, yet s
he seemed to know what she was doing. The young man backed away.
When she exposed the leg, the damage was obvious. The calf of his right leg was bent backward where there was no knee. The huge pointed horn had gored the man in the calf and broken both bones. The muscle was torn open, the jagged end of a bone was showing, and blood was pouring out of the gash and pooling on the ground.
She looked up at Jondalar. "Help me straighten him out while he's unconscious, it's going to hurt to move him when he wakes up. Then get me some soft hides, our toweling hides will work. I need to apply pressure to stop the bleeding, then I'll need help to splint the leg." The tall man hurried off, and she turned to one of the young men who were standing around, gaping.
"He'll need to be carried back. Do you know how to make a stretcher?" He looked blank, as though he hadn't heard or understood her. "We need something for him to lie on while he's carried."
He nodded. "A stretcher," he said.
He was really only a boy, she realized. "Jondalar will help you," she said as the man returned with the hides.
They laid him out on his back. He moaned from the movement, but didn't wake up. She checked him again; he might have sustained a head injury from the fall, but she didn't see anything obvious. Then, leaning hard on his leg above the knee, she tried to slow the bleeding. She thought about a tourniquet, but if she could get the bone straightened and wrap the leg, she might not need it. Pressure on the wound itself should be enough. He was still bleeding, but she had seen worse.
She turned to Jondalar. "We need splints, some straight wood about the length of his leg, break some of those spears if you need to."
Jondalar brought her two splints, broken lengths of spears. She quickly cut strips out of one of the hides, and other pieces to wrap around the splints for padding, to get them ready. Then, grasping the foot of the broken leg by holding the toes with one hand and his heel with her other hand, she gently pulled it straight, feeling where it resisted and easing it through. He spasmed a few times, and noises escaped his mouth; he'd been close to waking. She reached into the bleeding gash and tried to feel if the bones were aligned.
"Jondalar, hold his thigh for me," she said. "I need to set this leg before he wakes up, and while he's still bleeding. The blood will help keep the wound clean." Then she looked up at the young men-boys – who were standing around watching with looks of horror and amazement on their faces. "You, and you," she said, looking directly at two of them. "I'm going to lift his leg and pull to align the bones so they will heal straight. If I don't, he'll never walk on that leg again. I want you to get those splints and put them underneath his leg, so when I lower it, the leg will be right between them. Can you do that?"
They nodded and hurried to get the wrapped spears. When everybody was ready, Ayla grasped the foot by the toes and heel again with both hands and gently but firmly lifted his leg. With Jondalar holding the thigh, she pulled, exerting strong pressure carefully. It was not the first time he had seen her set bones, but now she was trying to set two of them. He could see the concentration on her face as she pulled, trying to sense by the feel of his leg in her hands if the bones were lining up. Even he felt what seemed to be a slight jerk and a settling, as though a bone had found its place. She lowered the leg gently, then examined it critically. It looked straight to Jondalar, but what did he know? At least it wasn't bent backward at a place it had no right to be.
She signaled that he could let go and turned her attention to the bleeding wound. Pressing it together as best she could, with Jondalar's help to lift it, she wrapped it up, splints and all, then tied everything together with the strips of leather she had cut. Then she sat back on her heels.
It was then that Jondalar noticed the blood. It was everywhere, the wrappings, the splints, Ayla, himself, the young men who had helped. The young man on the ground had lost a lot of blood. "I think we have to get him back soon," Jondalar said.
A fleeting thought passed through his mind. The prohibition against talking was not quite over, and the ritual releasing the newly mated couple from it had not been performed, but Ayla hadn't even considered it, and Jondalar dismissed it as soon as he thought about it. This was an emergency, and there was no Zelandoni around to ask.
"You will need to make the stretcher," she said to the young men standing around, seeming to be in more shock than the one on the ground.
They looked at each other, shuffled their feet. They were all young and inexperienced. Several had only recently reached manhood, a few had made their first kill during the massive bison hunt that marked the beginning of the summer hunting season, and that had been an easy hunt, hardly more than target practice. The rhino baiting had been at the instigation of one of them who had watched his brother at similar sport a few years before, and a couple of the others who had heard about it, but primarily it was a spur-of-the-moment decision because they happened to see the beast. They all knew that they should have brought in some experienced older hunters before they attempted to bring down the huge animal, but they could only think of the glory of doing it themselves, the envy of the other bachelor fa'lodges, and the admiration of the whole Summer Meeting when it was brought in. Now one of them was badly hurt.
Jondalar quickly assessed the situation. "What Cave does he belong to?" he asked.
"The Fifth," came the reply.
"You run ahead and tell them what happened," Jondalar said. The young man to whom he had spoken sprinted off. He thought that he could have ridden in to tell them on Racer faster than a boy could run, but someone needed to supervise the construction of the stretcher. The boys were still scared and in shock, and having a grown man around to direct them right now was exactly what they needed. "We'll need three or four of you to help carry him in. The rest of you should stay here and gut that animal. It could bloat up fast. I'll send some people back to help you. There's no point in wasting the meat, the cost was too high."
"He's my cousin. I'd like to help carry him back," one young man said.
"Fine. Pick three more, that should be enough to get him back. The rest can stay," Jondalar said. Then he noticed that the youngster seemed almost overcome and was trying to hold back tears. "What is your cousin's name?" he asked.
"Matagan. He is Matagan of the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii."
"I know you must care about Matagan, and this has been very hard on you," Jondalar said. "He was very seriously hurt, but I will tell you the truth, he is very lucky that Ayla happened to be here. I can't promise, but I think he will be all right, and may even walk again. Ayla is a very good healer. I know. I was mauled by a cave lion, and would have died on the steppes far to the east, but Ayla found me, treated my wounds, and saved my life. If anybody can save Matagan, Ayla will."
The young man let out a sob of relief and then tried to control himself again.
"Now, get me some spears so we can carry your cousin home," Jondalar said. "We'll need at least four, two for each side." Under his guidance, they soon had the spears tied together with thongs to make two sturdy supports, and spare pieces of clothing laced between them. Ayla checked the wounded young man, then several of them lifted him onto the makeshift stretcher.
They were not too far from the camp. Ayla and Jondalar signaled Whinney and Racer to follow, and they walked beside the wounded young man. She watched him with worried concentration, and when they stopped to change bearers, she checked his breathing and felt for the beat in his wrist. It was faint, but definite.
They were nearest the upstream end of the camp, close to the encampment of the Ninth Cave. News of the accident had spread rapidly, and several people had followed the young man back to meet them. Joharran was among them and spotted them in the distance. When they joined up, the two who were bearing the litter were relieved of their place, and the pace back to the large Meeting place quickened.
"Marthona went to tell someone to get Zelandoni, and Zelandoni of the Fifth," Joharran said. "They were at the other end of the camp at some Zelandonia meeting.
Should we take him to our camp, or to his own?" he asked Ayla.
"I want to change those wrappings, and get a poultice on that wound, I don't want it to fester," Ayla said. She thought for a moment. "I haven't had much time to replenish all my medicines, but I'm sure Zelandoni has enough, and I want her to look at him. Let's take him to the zelandonia lodge."
"That's a good idea. It would take her a while to get here, we can probably get there faster. Zelandoni doesn't run the way she used to," Joharran said, somewhat diplomatically referring to her great size. "The Fifth's Zelandoni will probably want to see him, but healing was never his greatest talent, I'm told."
When they arrived at the zelandonia lodge, the First met them at the entrance. A place had already been made ready, and Ayla wondered if someone had gone ahead and told her that she had decided not to keep the man at the camp of the Ninth Cave, or if the woman had just assumed that the injured man would be brought there. Several people who had seen them coming were already talking about all the blood. Though several of the zelandonia were outside, no one else was inside the lodge.
"Put him down over there," the First said, showing them one of the raised beds at the far side, opposite the entrance. The men carried him there, then moved him to the bed. Most of the men left, but Joharran and Jondalar stayed.
Ayla made sure the leg was straight, then started to remove the wrappings. "It needs a poultice so it won't fester," she said.
"He will keep for a moment. Tell me what happened," the First said.
Both Ayla and Jondalar quickly explained the circumstances, then Ayla finished, "Both lower legbones in that leg are broken, the calf was bent backward at the break. I knew if they weren't set straight, he would never walk on that leg again, and he's a young man. I decided to set the leg right there, while he was unconscious and before it started to swell up, and make it harder to work with the bones. I had to feel around inside, and pull hard to get the bones aligned again, but I think they are. He was making some noises on the way here, he may wake up soon. I'm sure he will be in pain."