The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

“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 words, 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 f
ew 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 though 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!”

  The big headman roared at the innuendo, as the others shouted out the verse a second time, then he picked up the refrain again. As they hiked back to the Lion Camp, the rhythmic song set the pace, and the laughter eased the burden of carrying back the results of their hunting.

  Nezzie came out of the longhouse and let the drape fall behind her. She gazed out across the river. The sun was low in the western sky, preparing to sink into a high bank of clouds near the horizon. She glanced up the slope, not sure why. She didn’t really expect the hunters back yet; they had only left the day before and probably would be gone two nights, at least. Something made her look up again. Was that movement at the top of the path that led to the steppes?

  “It’s Talut!” she cried, seeing the familiar figure silhouetted against the sky. She ducked her head inside the earthlodge and shouted, “They’re back! Talut and the rest, they’re back!” Then she rushed up the slope to meet them.

  Everyone came running out of the lodge to greet the returning hunters. They helped ease the heavy packboards off the backs of the people who had not only hunted but carried the products of their efforts back. But the sight that caused the most surprise was the horse dragging behind her a load much larger than anyone could carry. People gathered around as Ayla unloaded even more from the basket panniers. The meat and the other parts of the bison were immediately brought into the lodge, passed from hand to hand, and put into storage.

  Ayla made sure the horses were comfortable after everyone went in, removing Whinney’s harness and Racer’s halter. Even though they seemed not to be suffering any consequences from spending their nights outside alone, the woman still felt a pang of concern about leaving them each evening when she went inside the lodge. As long as the weather stayed reasonably nice, it wasn’t bad. A little cold didn’t bother her, but this was the season of unexpected changes. What if a bad storm blew up? Where would the horses go then?

  She looked up with a worried frown. High wispy clouds in brilliant shades streamered overhead. The sun had set not long before, and left a panoply of strident color trailing behind it. She watched until the ephemeral hues faded and the clear blue grayed.

  When she went in, Ayla overheard a comment about her and the horse just before she pushed back the inner drape that led to the cooking hearth. People had been sitting around, relaxing, eating, and talking, but conversation stopped as she appeared. She felt uncomfortable entering the first hearth with everyone staring at her. Then Nezzie handed her a bone plate, and the talking started up again. Ayla began to serve herself, then stopped to look around. Where was the bison meat they had just brought back? There was not a sign of it anyplace. She knew it must have been put away, but where?

  Ayla pushed back the heavy outer mammoth hide and looked first for the horses. Assured that they were safe, she looked for Deegie and smiled as she approached. Deegie had promised to show her, with the fresh bison skins, how the Mamutoi tanned and processed hides. In particular, Ayla was interested in how they colored leather red, like Deegie’s tunic. Jondalar had said white was sacred to him; red was sacred to Ayla, because it was sacred to the Clan. A skin coloring paste of red ochre mixed with fat, preferably cave bear fat, was used in the naming ceremony; a piece of red ochre was the first object that went into an amulet bag, given at the time a person’s totem was made known. From the beginning to the end of life, red ochre was used in many rituals, including the last, the burial. The small bag that contained the roots used to make the sacred drink was the only red thing Ayla had ever owned, and next to her amulet, it was her greatest treasure.

  Nezzie came out of the lodge carrying a large piece of leather
stained from use, and saw Ayla and Deegie together. “Oh, Deegie. I was looking for someone to help me,” she said. “I thought I’d make a big stew for everyone. The bison hunt was so successful, Talut said he thought we should have a feast to celebrate. Will you set this up for cooking? I put hot coals in the pit by the big fireplace, and put the frame over it. There is a bag of dried mammoth dung out there to put in the coals. I’ll send Danug and Latie for water.”

  “For one of your stews, I’ll help any time, Nezzie.”

  “Can I help?” Ayla asked.

  “And me,” Jondalar said. He had just come up to talk to Ayla and overheard.

  “You can help me carry some food out,” Nezzie said as she turned to go back in.

  They followed her toward one of the mammoth tusk archways that were along the walls inside the earthlodge. She pulled back a rather stiff, heavy drape of mammoth hide, which had not been dehaired. The double layer of reddish fur, with its downy undercoat and long outer hair, faced the outside. A second drape hung behind it and when it was pulled back they felt a breath of cold air. Looking into the dimly lit area, they saw a large pit the size of a small room. It was about three feet deeper than the floor level with the bare earth of the slope high up the walls, and it was almost full of frozen slabs and chunks, and smaller carcasses of meat.

  “Storage!” Jondalar said, holding back the heavy drapes while Nezzie let herself down. “We keep meat frozen for winter, too, but not as conveniently close. Our shelters are built underneath the cliff overhangs, or in the front of some caves. But it’s hard to keep meat frozen there, so our meat is outside.”

  “Clan keeps meat frozen in cold season in cache, under pile of stones,” Ayla said, understanding now what had happened to the bison meat they brought back.

  Nezzie and Jondalar both looked surprised. They never thought about people of the Clan storing meat for winter, and were still amazed when Ayla mentioned activities that seemed so advanced, so human. But then Jondalar’s comments about the place where he lived had surprised Ayla. She had assumed all of the Others lived in the same kind of dwelling, and didn’t realize the earthlodges were constructions as unusual to him as they were to her.