by Jean M. Auel
“Yes, but it was a little scary, too. Like it came from a place far away,” Lanidar said.
“It did,” Ayla said, then she smiled and pierced the air with a sharp, commanding trill. Before long, Wolf came bounding out of the long grass of the field.
“It’s a wolf!” the boy screamed with fear.
“It’s all right,” she said, holding Wolf close to her. “The wolf is my friend. I walked through the main camp with him yesterday. I thought you would know that he was here, along with the horses.”
The boy calmed down, but still looked at Wolf with large round eyes full of apprehension.
“I went with my mother to pick raspberries yesterday. Nobody even told me you were here. They just said there were some horses in the Upper Meadow,” Lanidar said. “Everybody was talking about some kind of spear-throwing thing some man wanted to show. I’m not good at throwing a spear, so I decided I’d look for the horses instead.”
Ayla wondered if the omission was on purpose, if someone was trying to trick him the way Marona had tried to trick her. Then she realized that a boy of his age who went berry picking with his mother probably led a pretty lonely life. She got a sense that the boy with a crippled arm, who could not throw a spear, did not have many friends and that the other boys made fun of him and tried to trick him. But he did have one good arm. He could learn to throw a spear, especially using a spear-thrower.
“Why aren’t you good at throwing a spear?” she asked.
“Can’t you see?” he said, holding out his malformed arm and looking at it with loathing.
“But you have another arm that is perfectly good,” she said.
“Everybody always holds their extra spears with their other arm. Besides, nobody wanted to teach me. They said I could never hit a target, anyway,” the boy said.
“What about the man of your hearth?” Ayla asked.
“I live with my mother, and her mother. I guess there was a man of the hearth once, my mother pointed him out to me, but he left her a long time ago, and he doesn’t want anything to do with me. He didn’t like it when I tried to visit him. He seemed embarrassed. Sometimes a man will come and live with us for a while, but none of them bother with me much,” the boy said.
“Would you like to see a spear-thrower? I have one with me,” Ayla said.
“Where did you get one?” Lanidar asked.
“I know the man who made it. He’s the man I’m going to mate. I’ll be going to help him show his spear-thrower as soon as I finish with the horses.”
“I guess I could look at it,” the boy said.
Her backpack was on the ground nearby. She got her spear-thrower and a couple of spears and walked back.
“This is how it works,” she said, taking a spear and laying it on top of the strange-looking implement. She made sure the hole carved into the butt end of the spear was up against the small hook at the back of the narrow board with the groove down the middle, then put her fingers through the loops attached to the front end. She sighted down the field, then launched the spear.
“That spear went a long way!” Lanidar said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man throw a spear that far.”
“Probably not. That’s what makes the spear-thrower such a good hunting weapon. I think you could throw a spear with this. Come here, I'll show you how to hold it.”
Ayla could see that her spear-thrower was not made for someone of Lanidar’s size, but it was good enough to demonstrate the principle of leverage behind it. It was his right arm that was deformed, which had forced him to develop his left arm. Whether he would naturally have been left-handed if his right arm had developed properly didn’t matter. He was left-handed now, and he was strong on that side. She didn’t worry about aiming for the moment, but she showed him how to pull back and cast the spear. Then she set it up and let him do it. The spear flew high and wide, but quite far, and the grin on Lanidar’s face was ecstatic.
“I threw that spear. Look how far it went!” he nearly shouted. “Can you actually hit something with it?”
“If you practice,” she said, smiling. She looked around the field, but didn’t see anything. She turned to Wolf, who’d been lying on his belly with his head up, watching the whole thing. “Wolf, go find something for me,” she said, although the hand signal she gave him said more.
He jumped up and raced into the meadow of full-grown grass turning from green to gold. Ayla followed behind slowly, and the boy walked behind her. Before long she saw movement of the grass ahead, then caught sight of a gray hare darting away from the wolf. She had the spear poised, watching carefully, and when she saw the direction it would likely bound the next time, she cast the small spear. It landed true, and when she reached it, the wolf was standing over it, looking up at her.
“I want that one, Wolf. You go catch one of your own now,” she said to the carnivore, again signaling him at the same time. But the boy didn’t really see the signals and was completely amazed at the way the huge wolf minded the woman. She picked up the hare and started back toward the horses.
“You should go and see the man demonstrate the spear-thrower he made. I think you might find it interesting, Lanidar, and just because you don’t know how to throw a spear won’t make any difference. No one else knows how to use a spear-thrower, either. Everybody will be learning from the beginning. If you want to wait a while, I’ll walk over there with you,” Ayla said.
Lanidar watched her brushing down the young stallion. “I’ve never seen a brown horse like that. Most horses look like the mare.”
“I know,” Ayla said, “but far to the east, beyond the end of the Great Mother River that starts on the other side of the glacier, some horses are brown like that. That’s where these horses come from.”
After a while the wolf returned. He found a spot, circled around it a few times, then lowered himself to his belly, panting and watching.
“Why do these animals stay around you, let you touch them, and do what you say?” Lanidar asked. “I’ve never seen animals do that.”
“They are my friends. I was hunting and the mare’s dam fell into my pit trap. I didn’t know she was nursing until I saw the foal. A pack of hyenas saw the foal, too. I don’t know why I chased them away. The foal couldn’t have lived alone, but since I saved her, I raised her. I guess she grew up thinking I was her mother. Later we became friends, and learned to understand each other. She does things I ask her to do, because she wants to. I named her Whinney,” Ayla said, but the way she said the name was the perfect copy of a horse’s whinny. In the field, the dun-yellow mare raised her head and looked in their direction.
“That was you! How did you do that?” Lanidar said.
“I paid attention and practiced. That is her real name. To most people I usually say ‘Whinney’ because they understand it better, but that’s not how I said it when I named her. This stallion is her son. I was there when he was born. So was Jondalar. He named this horse Racer, but that was later,” Ayla explained.
“Racer can mean someone who likes to go fast, or someone who likes to be ahead of everyone else,” the boy said.
“That’s what Jondalar said. He named him that because Racer loves to run, and likes to get ahead, except when I put him on a rope. Then he will follow behind his dam,” Ayla said, and went back to grooming the horse. She was nearly through.
“What about the wolf?” Lanidar asked.
“Almost the same thing. I raised Wolf from a baby. I killed his mother because she was stealing ermine from some traps I set. I didn’t know she was nursing. It was in winter with snow on the ground, and she had whelped out of season. I followed her tracks back to her den. She was a lone wolf, with no other wolves to help her, and all but one of her cubs had died. I pulled Wolf out of the den when his eyes were barely open. He grew up with Mamutoi children, and thinks of people as his pack,” she said.
“What is that name you call him?” Lanidar said.
“Wolf. It’s the word for a wolf in Mamutoi,�
� Ayla said. “Would you like to meet him?”
“What do you mean, ‘meet him’? How can you meet a wolf?”
“Come here and I’ll show you,” she said. He approached with caution. “Give me your hand, and we’ll let Wolf smell it, and get used to your scent, then you can rub his fur.”
Lanidar was a little hesitant about putting his good hand so close to the mouth of the wolf, but he extended it slowly. Ayla brought it to Wolf’s nose. He sniffed it, then licked it.
“That tickles!” the boy said with a nervous titter.
“You can touch his head, and he likes to be scratched,” Ayla said, showing Lanidar how. The boy broke into a delighted grin when he touched the animal, but looked up when the young stallion nickered. “I think Racer would like a little attention, too. Would you like to pet him?”
“Can I?” Lanidar asked.
“Come here, Racer,” she said, signaling him to come as well as saying it. The dark brown stallion with black mane, tail, and lower legs nickered again, took a few steps toward the woman and the boy, and lowered his head toward the youngster, making the boy move back a ways from the large animal. He may not have been a carnivore with a mouth full of sharp teeth, but that didn’t mean he was without defenses. Ayla reached into the backpack at her feet.
“Move slowly, let him smell you, too. That’s how animals get to know you, then you can pat his nose, or the side of his face,” Ayla said.
The boy did as she said. “His nose is so soft!” Lanidar said. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Whinney was there, pushing Racer aside. The boy was startled. Ayla had seen Whinney approaching from the field, wanting to find out what was going on.
“Whinney likes attention, too,” Ayla said. “Horses are very curious, and like to be noticed. Would you like to feed them?” He nodded. Ayla opened her hand and showed him two pieces of a white root that she knew the horses liked, fresh young wild carrot. “Is your right hand strong enough to hold something?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Then you can feed them both at the same time,” she said, putting a piece of root in each of his hands. “Hold one out to each horse, letting it rest on your open hand, so they can take it,” she said. “They get jealous if you feed one and not the other, and Whinney will push Racer out of the way. She’s his mother, she can tell him what to do.”
“Even horse mothers can do that?” he said.
“Yes, even horse mothers.” She stood up and got the halter with the ropes attached. “I think it’s time to go, Lanidar. Jondalar is expecting me. I’m going to have to put their ropes back on. I’d rather not, but it’s for their own safety. I don’t want them wandering around loose until everybody at the Summer Meeting knows that these horses are not to be hunted. I was thinking a surround might be a better place for them, rather than using ropes that get tangled on bushes and grass.”
The bush caught up in Racer’s rope was so tangled, she dropped it and went to find her backpack. She thought she had put the small axe that Jondalar had made for her in it, though when they were traveling, she usually wore it with the hafted handle put through a loop attached to her waistband. It would be easier to untangle the rope if she could break up the woody bush first. She searched around the bottom of the pack and found it. After she made sure they were cleared of the debris they had picked up, Ayla put the ropes back on the horses and gathered up her backpack and the hare to give to whoever might be working around the camp of the Ninth Cave. Then she looked at the boy. “If I teach you how to whistle like birds and things, would you do something for me, Lanidar?”
“What?”
“Sometimes I have to be away almost all day. Would you come and check on the horses once in a while when I’m gone? You can call them with a whistle then, if you want. Make sure their ropes aren’t tangled, and give them some attention? They like company. If there are any problems, come and find me. Do you think you could do that?”
The boy could hardly believe what she was asking. He never would have dreamed she would ask him to do something like that. “Can I feed them, too? I liked it when they ate off both my hands.”
Of course. You can always pick some fresh green grass, and they really like wild carrots, and some other roots I can show you. I have to go, do you want to come with me to watch Jondalar show his spear-thrower?”
“Yes,” he said.
Ayla walked with the boy back to the camp, making a few bird whistles along the way.
When Ayla, Wolf, and Lanidar reached the site of the spear-throwing demonstration, Ayla was surprised to see several more of the hunting implements besides Jondalar’s. Some people who had seen their earlier presentation to the Caves in their immediate region had made their own versions of the weapon, and they were showing their capabilities with varying degrees of success. Jondalar saw her coming and looked relieved. He hurried to meet them.
“What took you so long?” he started right in. “Several people tried to make spear-throwers after we showed them,” he said, “but you know how much practice it takes to develop accuracy. So far, I’m the only one who’s been able to hit what I aimed for, and I’m afraid people are beginning to think my skill is just a fluke, and that no one else will ever be able to hit anything using them. I didn’t want to say anything about you. I thought that a showing of your skill would make a better impression. I’m glad you finally made it.”
“I brushed the horses—Racer’s eye is fine—and let them run for a while,” she explained. “We need to think of something besides ropes that get caught on bushes and things. Maybe we could make a surround, or an enclosure of some kind. I’ve asked Lanidar to check on them when we’re away from camp. He’s met the horses and they like him.”
“Who is Lanidar?” Jondalar asked rather impatiently.
She indicated the boy who was standing beside her, trying to edge around behind her, looking up at the tall man who seemed angry, which made the boy a little frightened. “This is Lanidar of the Nineteenth Cave, Jondalar. Someone told him there were horses in the field where we camped, and he came to see them.”
Jondalar started to shrug him off, his mind on the demonstration that was not going as well as he’d hoped, then he noticed the deformed arm and a frown of concern on Ayla’s face. She was trying to tell him something, and it was probably about the boy.
“I think he could be a big help,” she said. “He’s even learned the whistle we use to call the horses, but he’s promised not to use it without a good reason.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Jondalar said, turning his attention to the child, “and I’m sure we can use the help.” Lanidar relaxed a little, and Ayla smiled at Jondalar.
“Lanidar came to see the demonstration, too. What targets do you have set up?” Ayla asked as they started walking back toward the crowd of mostly men who were watching them. A few of them looked as though they were getting ready to leave.
“Drawings of deer on a hide tied to a bundle of grass,” he said.
Ayla pulled out a spear and her spear-thrower as they approached, and as soon as she saw the targets, she sighted and let fly. The solid thunk caught a few by surprise, they hadn’t expected the woman to make a cast so quickly. She made a few more demonstrations, but unmoving targets seemed rather commonplace, and even if the spear did fly farther than anyone had ever seen a woman throw before, they had already watched Jondalar do that several times. It was no longer exceptional.
The boy seemed to understand that. He had walked along beside her because he wasn’t sure if she wanted him to stay or go, and tapped her.
“Why don’t you tell the wolf to find a rabbit or something?” Lanidar said.
The woman smiled at him, then made a silent signal to the wolf. The area was trampled by the many people milling around, and it was not likely that there were many animals left, but if any could be found, Wolf would find them. With a little trepidation, some people noticed the wolf dashing away from Ayla. They had started to become accustomed to seeing the meat-eater
with the woman, but rushing off on his own was another thing.
Before Ayla arrived, a man had asked Jondalar how far he could cast a spear with one of those spear-throwers, but he said he had used up all his spears and needed to retrieve them before he could throw them again. Jondalar and a knot of men were just starting off together to gather them up when Ayla spied Wolf in a stance that signaled to her that he had found something. Suddenly a noisy willow grouse appeared out of a clump of trees halfway up a slope near the target course. Ayla had been waiting with a lightweight spear in the thrower, one she and Jondalar had started using for birds and small animals.
She hurled the weapon with a speed that was so practiced, it was almost instinctive. The bird squawked when it was hit, causing several people to look. They watched it fall from the sky Suddenly there was renewed interest in the hunting weapon. “How far can she throw?” the man who had asked about distance wanted to know.
“Ask her,” Jondalar said.
“Just throw, or hit the mark?” Ayla asked.
“Both,” the man said.
“If you want to see how far a spear will go using a thrower, I have a better idea,” she said, then turned to the boy. “Lanidar, would you show them how far you can throw a spear?”
He glanced around rather shyly, but she knew he hadn’t been hesitant to speak out or answer questions when he first talked to her, and she thought he wouldn’t mind the attention. He looked at Ayla and nodded.
“Do you think you can remember how you threw the spear before?” she asked.
He nodded again.
She gave him her spear-thrower and a projectile, another bird dart—she had only two lightweight spears left. He was a little awkward at getting the spear set on the spear-thrower with his shorter arm, but he did it himself. Then he walked to the middle of the practice course, pulled his good left arm back, and threw the spear the way he had done it before, let-ring the back of the thrower lift up and add the leverage that would give it more distance. It went less than half the distance down the course than either Ayla’s or Jondalar’s spears had gone, but it was still much farther than anyone expected a boy to cast a spear, especially one with his affliction.