The Earth's Children Series 6-Book Bundle

by Jean M. Auel

  “I wanted to tell you, I think we should go after the giant deer today rather than the bison,” Manvelar said. “When the watchers came up last evening, after you left, they said the bison have moved away from the surround trap. It won’t be easy to chase them into it now.”

  Joharran looked disappointed for a moment, but hunting always did require flexibility. Animals roamed where they chose for their own needs, not for a hunter’s convenience. A successful hunter was adaptable.

  “All right, let’s tell Zelandoni,” he said.

  At a signal, everyone moved to an area between the fire and the rear of the field, facing the back wall. The closeness of the fire and the crowd of people raised the temperature, and Ayla savored the warmth. The exercise of walking to the Gather Field, at a fairly good pace in spite of the darkness, had served to keep her warm enough, but standing around waiting had caused her to begin to feel the chill. The wolf pressed against her leg; he was not happy having so many strange people so close. Ayla knelt down to reassure him.

  The reflection of the large fire behind them danced on the rough vertical surface of the rock. Suddenly a loud wailing sounded and the staccato of drums. Then she heard another sound and felt the hair rising at the nape of her neck and a shiver down her spine. She had heard a sound like that only once before … at the Clan Gathering! She would never forget the sound of a bullroarer. It was the sound that called in the spirits!

  She knew how the sound was made. It came from a flat, oval-shaped piece of wood or bone with a hole at one end by which a cord was attached. Spinning the object around by the cord produced the eerie, wailing roar. But knowing how it was made in no way changed the effect it had; a sound like that could come only from the Spirit World. That wasn’t what gave her the chill, however. What was hard to believe was that the Zelandonii would have a ceremony that called in the spirits the same way the Clan did.

  Ayla crowded close to Jondalar, wanting the assurance of him near her. Then her attention was caught by a movement in the fire’s reflection on the wall that was more than firelight. A shadow in the shape of a giant deer with large palmate antlers and a hump on his withers had flickered through it. She turned around and looked back but didn’t see anything, and wondered if she had imagined it. She turned back to face the wall, and the antlered deer flickered through again, then a bison.

  The bullroarer tapered off, but another sound had begun, at first so low that she was barely conscious of it. Then the low wailing chant increased in pitch and a heavy rhythmical booming began. The wailing interweaved in counterpoint to the swelling sound that reverberated off the back wall as both grew louder. Ayla’s temples throbbed to the steady thrum, thrum, thrum, and her heart pounded in her ears at the same tempo and just as loud. It seemed that her limbs had turned to ice, and her legs refused to move; she was petrified. She broke out in a cold sweat. Then, abruptly, the pounding stopped and the wailing began to form words.

  “O Spirit of the Giant Deer. We praise you.”

  “We praise you.…” Voices around her repeated the phrase, but they were not quite all together.

  The chanting background grew louder.

  “Spirit of Bison, we want you near. We praise you.”

  “We praise you.” This time the hunters spoke in unison.

  “The Mother’s Children want you here. We call you.”

  “We call you.”

  “Immortal Soul, no death you fear. We praise you.”

  “We praise you.” The voices were louder now.

  “Your mortal lives are drawing near, we call you.”

  The tone was growing high-pitched, expectant.

  “We call you.” The voices were louder still.

  “Give them to us and shed no tear. We praise you.”

  “We praise you.”

  “The Mother wills it, do you hear? We call you.”

  Now it was demanding.

  “We call you. We call you. We call you!”

  They were shouting. Ayla’s voice had joined the rest, though she wasn’t even aware of it. Then she noticed a large figure taking form on the rough wall. A barely visible dark figure was moving in front of the wall, somehow causing the shape of a giant deer to take form. A mature male with large antlers that seemed to breathe in the dawning light.

  The hunters kept repeating in a low, monotonous drone in rhythm with the deep booming drum, “We call you. We call you. We call you. We call you.”

  “Give them to us! Shed no tear!”

  “The Mother wills it. Hear! Hear! Hear!” the voices nearly screamed. Suddenly a light seemed to turn on, and a loud wailing cry was heard that ended in a death rattle.

  “She hears!” the chanting voice said abruptly. All sound suddenly ceased. Ayla looked up, but the deer was gone. Only the first bright beam of light of the sunrise remained.

  There was no sound or movement at first. Then Ayla became conscious of breathing and shuffling movements. The hunters appeared dazed and were looking around as though they had just awakened. Ayla heaved a great sigh, then knelt down again and hugged the wolf. When she looked up, Proleva was there, handing her a cup of hot tea.

  Ayla murmured her thanks and sipped the tea gratefully. She was thirsty, and no longer feeling the nausea of morning sickness, she realized, though she wasn’t sure when it had stopped. Perhaps on the hike to the Gather Field. She and Jondalar, with Wolf close by, walked with Joharran and his mate back to the fire, where the hot tea had been made. They were joined by Marthona and Willamar, and Folara.

  “Kareja says she has a disguise for you, Ayla,” Joharran said. “We can pick it up when we pass by the Eleventh Cave.”

  Ayla nodded, not quite sure how a disguise would be used to hunt giant deer.

  Then she looked around to see who else was in the hunting party. She recognized Rushemar and Solaban and was not surprised. She would expect to see the leader’s advisers, the ones Joharran always turned to for assistance. She was startled to see Brukeval, then wondered why. He was, after all, a member of the Ninth Cave. Why shouldn’t he hunt with them? She was even more surprised to see Marona’s friend Portula. But when the woman saw her, she flushed, stared for a moment, then turned away.

  “I don’t think Portula expected to see you wearing those clothes,” Marthona said quietly to Ayla.

  The sun was climbing the great blue vault, and the hunters set out quickly, leaving behind those who were not joining the hunt. As they headed toward The River, the warm sun dissipated the somber mood wrought by the ceremony, and the conversation, held in quiet whispers earlier in the morning, reached a more normal tone. They spoke seriously but confidently about the hunt. Their mission might not be assured, but the familiar ritual had addressed the spirit of the giant deer—and the bison, just in case—and had focused everyone’s attention on the hunt, and the phantom manifestation on the back wall of the Gather Field had reinforced their spiritual bonds with the world beyond the material one.

  Ayla felt a dampness in the air from a morning mist rising near the water. She glanced to the side and caught her breath at the sheer unexpected beauty of a momentary natural phenomenon. Twigs and leaves and blades of grass, highlighted by a beam of light, sparkled with the brilliance of every rainbow color, caused by the refraction of sunlight through the prisms of droplets. Even the symmetrical perfection of a spider’s web, whose sticky strands were designed to capture that predator’s quarry, had snared instead jeweled drops of condensed moisture along its slender threads.

  “Jondalar, look,” she said, calling his attention to the display. Folara stopped, too, then Willamar.

  “I would take that as a favorable sign,” the Trade Master said, smiling broadly before moving on.

  Where The River widened, the water foamed and tumbled over its pebble-strewn bed, but parted around larger rocks, unable to entice them to join in the playful dance of whitewater and shimmering ripples. The hunters started across The River at the broad shallows, stepping from stone to stone through the de
eper middle. Some of the large rocks were brought there by a more turbulent stream of a different season during past years, and some were carried there recently to fill in the gaps left by nature. As Ayla followed the others, her thoughts turned toward the upcoming hunt. Then, just as she was about to start across, she suddenly stopped.

  “What’s wrong, Ayla?” Jondalar asked with a concerned frown.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I’m going back to get the horses. I’ll be able to catch up before the hunters reach Two Rivers Rock. Even if we don’t use the horses for hunting, they can help carry the kill back.”

  Jondalar nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll come with you,” he said, then turning to Willamar. “Will you tell Joharran we’ve gone back for the horses? It won’t take long.”

  “Come on, Wolf,” Ayla said as they headed back toward the Ninth Cave.

  But the way Jondalar went was not the way they had come. After reaching the Gather Field, instead of taking the steep path up to Down River and on to the Ninth Cave across the stone ledges, he led them along a lesser-used and somewhat overgrown trail along the right bank of The River in front of the shelters of stone. Depending on the bends and turns the waterway took across its floodplain, the path was sometimes beyond a grassy field that was between the ledge and The River and sometimes close to the stone front porch.

  There were several paths leading up to the shelters along the way, and one Ayla recalled using when she’d had to relieve herself after that long meeting about the Clan. The memory prompted her to use the place again; she had to pass water more frequently now that she was pregnant. Wolf sniffed her water; he seemed more interested in it lately, and she wondered if he could tell she was expecting.

  A few people noticed them walking back and waved or beckoned. Jondalar was sure they were curious about why they had returned, but he didn’t respond. They’d find out soon enough. When they reached the end of the line of cliffs, they turned into Wood Valley, and Ayla whistled. Wolf raced ahead.

  “Do you think he knows we’re going to get Whinney and Racer?” Ayla said.

  “I wouldn’t doubt it,” Jondalar said. “I’m always amazed at what he seems to know.”

  “Here they come!” Ayla said, her voice full of happiness. She realized she hadn’t seen them for more than a day and had missed them. Whinney nickered when she saw Ayla and went straight to her with her head held high, but she lowered it over the woman’s shoulder while Ayla hugged her neck. Racer let out a loud neigh and pranced toward Jondalar with his tail high and his neck arched, then presented his favorite scratching places to the man.

  “I’ve missed them, but I think they’ve missed us, too,” Ayla said. After some greeting scratchings and strokings, and nose touchings with Wolf, she suggested they go up and get riding blankets and Whinney’s harness for the pole drag.

  “I’ll go,” Jondalar said. “We’d better get going if we’re planning on hunting today, and everybody will be asking questions. I think it will be easier for me to say we have to hurry. If you do it, someone may take it wrong, since they don’t really know you yet.”

  “And I don’t really know them,” Ayla said. “That’s a good idea. I’ll check the horses over and make sure they’re all right. Bring the carrying baskets, too, and a water bowl for Wolf. And maybe the sleeping rolls. Who knows where we’ll be staying tonight. You should probably bring Whinney’s halter, too.”

  They caught up with the rest of the hunting party just as they were reaching Two Rivers Rock. They had ridden along The River, splashing along the edge of the left bank after crossing.

  “I was beginning to wonder if you’d make it back before we started,” Kareja said. “I did stop off and pick up a disguise for you, Ayla.” Ayla thanked her.

  At the Two Rivers confluence, the hunting party turned into Grass Valley. Kimeran and some people from the Second and Seventh Caves, who were joining them but had not gone to the ceremony at the Gather Field, had waited upstream. When the rest of the hunters reached them, they stopped for a strategy meeting. Ayla and Jondalar got down from the horses and moved closer to listen.

  “… Thefona said the bison were moving north two days ago,” Manvelar was saying. “It looked as if they would be in a good position by today, but they changed direction and headed east, away from the surround. Thefona’s one of our best. She can see farther than anyone, and she’s been watching that herd for some time. I think they will be in a good position to chase into the trap soon, but probably not today. That’s why we thought the megaceros would be a better choice. They watered upriver from here, and now they’re browsing on leaf greens near the tall grass.”

  “How many are there?” Joharran asked.

  “Three mature does, a yearling buck, four spotted young, and a stag with a good-sized rack,” Thefona answered. “A typical small herd.”

  “I was hoping to get several animals, but I don’t want to take them all. That’s why I wanted the bison. They travel in bigger herds,” Joharran said.

  “Except for giant deer and reindeer, most deer don’t travel in herds at all. They like trees and more wooded places, where it’s easier to hide. You seldom see more than a few bucks, or a doe or two and the young, except during the season when the males and females come together,” Thefona said.

  Ayla was sure Joharran knew that, but Thefona was young and proud of the knowledge she had gained as watcher. Joharran had allowed her to recount what she had learned.

  “I think we should leave the stag, and at least one of the does, and her young one if we can be sure it’s hers,” Joharran said.

  Ayla thought that was a good decision. Again, she found herself impressed with Joharran and observed him more closely. Jondalar’s brother was nearly a head shorter than him, but his stocky, powerful build left no doubt that he was the equal of most men in strength. Leadership of the large and sometimes unruly Cave sat well on his shoulders; he exuded confidence. Brun, the leader of her clan, would have understood him, she thought. He, too, had been a good leader … unlike Broud.

  Most of the Zelandonii leaders she had met seemed well suited to their position. Caves usually chose their leaders well, but had Joharran been unable to fulfill the position, the Cave would have simply shifted toward a more adequate leader. Without formality, there were no rules needed to dispossess a leader; he simply would have lost his following.

  But Broud had not been chosen, she realized. He was destined to be the next leader from the moment he was born. Since he was born to the mate of a leader, it was believed he would have the memories for it. And perhaps he did, but in different proportions. Certain qualities that could contribute to leadership, such as pride, an ability to command, and to elicit respect, were accentuated in Broud. Brun’s pride had come from the achievements of his clan, which also earned him respect, and he directed well because he paid attention to others, then decided. Broud’s pride was exaggerated to hubris; he liked telling people what to do but did not listen to seasoned advice, and he wanted respect for his own exploits. Though Brun had tried to help him, Broud would never be the leader Brun had been.

  As the meeting was breaking up, Ayla spoke quietly to Jondalar. “I’d like to ride ahead and see if I can find the bison. Do you think Joharran would mind if I asked Thefona where she last saw them?”

  “No, I don’t think so, but why don’t you mention it to him,” Jondalar said.

  They both approached the leader, and when Ayla told him her plan, he said he had been going to ask Thefona the same thing. “Do you think you can locate those bison?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but they didn’t seem to be very far, and Whinney can run much faster than a person can,” Ayla said.

  “But I thought you said you wanted to hunt the megaceros with us,” Joharran said.

  “I do, but I think I can scout ahead and still meet you where the deer are in time to join you,” she said.

  “Well, I wouldn’t mind knowing where those bison are,” Joharran said. “Let
’s go ask Thefona where they were.”

  “I think I’ll go with Ayla,” Jondalar said. “She isn’t familiar with this region yet. She might not understand Thefona’s directions.”

  “Go ahead, but I hope you make it back in time. I’d like to see those spear-throwers of yours in action,” Joharran said. “If they do half of what you say they can, it could make a big difference.”

  After talking with Thefona, Ayla and Jondalar took off at a gallop with Wolf loping behind, while the rest of the hunters continued to follow Grass River upstream. The countryside of Zelandonii territory was a dramatic land carved in high relief, with steep cliffs, broad river valleys, rolling hills, and elevated plateaus. The rivers sometimes meandered across meadows and fields with a gallery of trees along their banks, and at other times flowed beside high rock walls. The people who lived there were accustomed to its varied landscape and moved through it comfortably, whether it meant climbing a steep hillside or scaling a nearly vertical cliff, jumping across slippery stones to cross a river or swimming upstream against its current, walking single file between a wall of rock on one side and a rushing river on the other or spreading out on an open plain.

  The hunters broke up into small groups as they moved through the nearly waist-high but still green grass of the open field of the valley. Joharran kept watching for the return of his brother and his strange entourage—the foreign woman, two horses, and a wolf—hoping they would get back in time to join the hunt, though he knew it would not make much difference. With so many hunters and so few animals, there was little doubt they would be able to get the ones they wanted.

  It was midmorning before the stag with prodigious antlers was sighted, and the hunters stopped to discuss deployment of those in pursuit. Joharran heard hoofbeats and turned around. With inadvertent but perfect timing, Jondalar and Ayla returned.

  “We found them!” Jondalar said in an excited whisper when they had dismounted. He would have shouted if he hadn’t noticed that the giant deer were very close by. “And they’ve changed direction again. They’re heading toward the surround! I’m sure we could encourage them to move that way faster.”