"It's never easy to lose a son," Ayla said, "or a daughter."
Roshario thought she saw a look of pain flash across the young woman's face as she got up and went to the fire to start preparations. When she came back, she brought her medicines in her interesting wooden bowls. The woman had never seen any quite like them. Most of their tools, utensils, and containers were decorated with carvings or paintings, or both, particularly Shamud's. Ayla's bowls were finely made, smooth and well-shaped, but starkly plain. There were no decorations of any kind, except for the grain of the wood itself.
"Are you feeling much pain now?" Ayla asked as she helped Roshario lie down.
"Some, but not nearly as much as before," the woman said, as the young healer started to remove the wrappings.
"I think the swelling is down," Ayla said, studying the arm. "That's a good sign. I'll put the splints and a sling back on it for now, in case you want to get up for a while. I'll put another poultice on tonight. When there is no more swelling, I'll wrap it in birchbark, which you should keep on until the bone is healed; at least a moon and halfway into another," Ayla explained, as she deftly took away the damp chamois skin and looked at a spreading bruise caused by her manipulations the day before.
"Birchbark?" Roshario said.
"When it is soaked in hot water, it softens and is easy to shape and fit. It gets hard and stiff as it dries, and will hold your arm rigid so the bone will heal straight, even when you are up and moving around."
"You mean I'll be able to get up and do something, instead of just lying around?" Roshario said with a delighted grin.
"You will only have the use of one arm, but there's no reason you can't stand on both legs. It was the pain that kept you here."
Roshario nodded. "That's true."
"There is one thing I want you to try before I put the wrappings back on. If you can, I want you to move your fingers; it might hurt a little."
Ayla tried not to show her concern. If there was some internal damage that prevented Roshario from moving her fingers now, it might be an indication that she would have only limited use of that arm. They were both watching her hand intently, and both smiled with relief when she moved her middle finger up, and then the rest of them.
"That's good!" Ayla said. "Now, can you curl your fingers?"
"I can feel that!" Roshario said as she flexed her fingers.
"Does it hurt too much to make a fist?" Ayla watched while she slowly closed her hand.
"It hurts, but I can do it."
"That's very good. How much can you move your hand? Can you bend it up at the wrist?"
Roshario grimaced with the effort and breathed in through her teeth, but she bent her hand forward.
"That's enough," Ayla said.
They both turned to look when they heard Wolf announce Jondalar's appearance with a single bark that sounded like a hoarse cough, and smiled when he entered.
"I came to see if there is anything I can do. Do you want me to help Roshario outside?" Jondalar asked. He had glanced at Roshario's exposed arm, then looked away quickly. The swollen, discolored thing did not look good to him.
"Nothing now, but sometime in the next few days I will need some wide strips of fresh birchbark. If you happen to see a good-size birch tree, keep it in mind so you can show me where it is. It's to hold her arm rigid while it's healing," Ayla replied while she wrapped it with splints.
"You never did tell me what all that finger moving was about, Ayla," Roshario said. "What did it mean?"
Ayla smiled. "It means that, with luck, the chances are good that you will have full use of your arm again, or close to it."
"That is indeed good news," Dolando said. He had heard her remark as he was coming into the dwelling holding one end of a drying rack. The other end was supported by Darvalo. "Will this do?"
"Yes, and thank you for bringing it inside. Some of the plants need to dry away from the light."
"Carolio says our morning meal is ready," the young man said. "She wants to know if you want to eat outside, since it's such a nice day."
"Well, I would," Roshario said, then turned to Ayla, "if you think it's all right."
"Just let me put the arm in a sling, and then you can walk out, if Dolando will give you a little support," Ayla said. The Shamudoi leader's smile was uncharacteristically broad. "And if no one minds, I would like to take a morning swim before I eat."
"Are you sure this thing is a boat?" Markeno said, helping Jondalar to prop the hide-covered round frame against the wall alongside the long poles. "How do you steer this bowl?"
"It's not as easy to control as your boats, but it's used mostly for crossing rivers, and the paddles work well enough to push it across. Of course with the horses, we just attached it to the pole drag and let them pull it," Jondalar said.
They both glanced across the field where Ayla was currying Whinney while Racer stood by. Jondalar had brushed the stallion's coat earlier and noticed that bare spots, where hair had fallen out on the hot plains, were filling in. Ayla had treated the eyes of both horses. Now that they were in a cooler, higher elevation away from the bothersome gnats, there was obvious improvement.
"It's the horses that are most surprising," Markeno said. "I never imagined they would willingly stay near people, but those two seem to enjoy it. Although I think I was more surprised by the wolf at first."
"You are more used to Wolf now. Ayla kept him close to her because she thought he would be more frightening to people than the horses."
They saw Tholie walking toward Ayla, with Shamio and Wolf running around her. "Shamio just loves him," Markeno said. "Look at her. I ought to be afraid, that animal could tear her apart, but he's not threatening at all. He's playing with her."
"The horses can be playful, too, but you can't imagine what it's like to ride on the back of that stallion. You can try it, if you want, though there isn't much room here for him to really run."
"That's all right, Jondalar. I think I'll stick to riding in boats," Markeno said. As a man appeared at the edge of the cliff, he added, "And here comes Carlono. I think it's time for Ayla to ride in one."
They all converged near the horses, then walked together toward the cliff and stood at the place where the small stream spilled over the edge into the Great Mother River below.
"Do you really think she ought to climb down? It's a long drop and it can be scary," Jondalar said. "It's even a little unsettling for me. I haven't done it in quite a while."
"You said you wanted to give her a ride in a real boat, Jondalar," Markeno said. "And she might want to see our dock."
"It's not that difficult," Tholie said. "There are footholds and ropes to hold on to. I can show her how."
"She doesn't have to climb down," Carlono said. "We can lower her in the supply basket, the same way we brought you up the first time, Jondalar."
"That might be best," Jondalar said.
"Come down with me and we'll send it up."
Ayla had listened to the discussion while she was looking down at the river and the precarious path they used to descend—the path Roshario had fallen down, though she had been completely familiar with it. She saw the sturdy knotted ropes that were secured to wooden pegs driven into narrow crevices in the rock, starting at the top where they stood. Part of the steep descent was washed by the stream as it fell, splashing from rock to ledge.
She watched Carlono step over the edge with practiced ease, grabbing a rope with one hand while his foot found the first narrow ledge. She saw Jondalar blanch a little, take a deep breath, then follow the man down, somewhat slower and more carefully. In the meantime, Markeno, with Shamio wanting to help, picked up a large coil of thick rope. The coil ended with a loop that had been woven into the end as an integral part and dropped over a heavy stake that was about midway between the walls at the edge of the embayment. The rest of the long cable was thrown over the cliff. Ayla wondered what kind of fiber they used to make their ropes. They were the heaviest cordage she had ever
seen.
Shortly afterward, Carlono came back up carrying the other end of the cable. He walked toward a second stake not far from the first, then began hauling up the rope, neatly dropping it in a coil beside him. A large, shallow, basketlike object soon appeared at the edge of the cliff between the two stakes. Full of curiosity, Ayla went to take a closer look.
Like the ropes, the basket was extremely sturdy. The flat woven bottom, which was reinforced and stiffened with wooden planks, was shaped in a long oval with straight sides around the edge like a low fence. It was easily big enough to hold a person lying down, or a medium-size sturgeon with its head and tail over the front and back. The largest sturgeon, one of two varieties that lived only in the river and its major tributaries, reached thirty feet in length and weighed over three thousand pounds, and had to be cut into pieces to be hoisted up.
The supply basket was slung between two ropes that were threaded through and held in place by four rings made of fiber, two attached to each long side. Each rope went down through one ring, and up through the ring that was diagonally on the opposite side, crossing underneath. The four ends of the ropes were plaited together and formed into a large heavy loop above, and the rope that had been thrown over the edge was threaded through that loop.
"Just climb in, Ayla. We'll hold it steady and lower you down," Markeno said, putting on a pair of close-fitting, leather mittens, then wrapping the long end once around the second stake in preparation for lowering the basket.
When she hesitated, Tholie said, "If you'd rather just climb down, I'll show you how. I never did like to ride the basket."
Ayla looked at the steep climb again. Neither way looked very inviting. "I'll try the basket this time," she said.
Where the path down was located, the wall below the cliff was steep but sloped enough to make it climbable, barely; near the middle where the stakes were, the top of the cliff overhung the wall. Ayla climbed into the basket, sat down on the bottom, and held on to the edge with a white-knuckled grip.
"Are you ready?" Carlono asked. Ayla turned her head without letting go and nodded. "Lower her down, Markeno."
The young man loosened his grip as Carlono guided the supply basket over the edge. While Markeno let the rope slide through his leather-covered hands, controlling the descent with the help of the twist around the stake, the loop at the top of the basket skidded along the heavy rope and Ayla, suspended in empty space over the dock, was slowly lowered.
Their device for transporting supplies and people between the deep ledge above and the dock below was simple but effective. It depended upon muscle power, but the basket itself, though sturdy, was relatively lightweight, making it possible for even one person alone to move fairly large loads. With additional people, quite heavy ones could be moved.
When she first dropped over the top of the cliff, Ayla shut her eyes and clung to the basket, hearing her heart pound in her ears. But as she felt herself dropping slowly, she peeked her eyes open, then looked around in open-mouthed wonder. It was a view from a perspective she had never seen before and would probably never see again.
Hanging out over the great moving river beside the steep wall of the gorge, Ayla felt that she was floating in air. The rock wall across the river was slightly more than a mile away, but it felt very close, though in places along the Gate the walls were much closer. It was a fairly straight stretch of river and, as she looked east and then west along its length, she could feel its power. When she had nearly reached the dock, she looked up and watched a white cloud appear over the edge of the wall, and she noticed two figures—one quite small—and the wolf, looking down at her. She waved. Then she landed with a slight bump while she was still looking up.
When she saw Jondalar's smiling face, she said, "That was exciting!"
"It is pretty spectacular, isn't it?" he said, helping her out.
A crowd of people was waiting for her, but she was more interested in the place than the people. She felt a swaying movement under her feet when she stepped out of the basket onto wooden planks, and she realized they were floating on water. It was a sizable dock, large enough to hold several dwellings of a construction similar to the ones under the sandstone ledge, plus open areas. There was a fire nearby, built on a slab of sandstone and surrounded by rocks.
Several of the interesting boats she had seen before, used by the people downstream—narrow and coming together in a sharp edge at the front and back—were tied to the floating construction. They were of various sizes, no two exactly the same, ranging from barely big enough to hold one person to long ones with several seats.
As she turned to look around, she saw two very large boats that startled her. The prows extended up to become the heads of strange birds, and the boats were painted with various geometric markings, which together gave the impression of feathers. Extra eyes were painted near the water line. The largest craft had a canopy over the middle section. When she looked at Jondalar to exclaim her amazement, his eyes were closed and his forehead creased with anguish, and she knew the large boat must have had something to do with his brother.
But neither of them had much time to pause or reconsider. They were moved along by the group, which was eager to show the visitor both their unusual craft and their boating expertise. Ayla noticed people scurrying up a ladderlike connection between the dock and the boat. When she was urged toward the foot of it, she understood that she was expected to do the same. Most of the people walked up the gangway, balancing easily even though the boat and the dock sometimes moved at cross-purposes, but Ayla was grateful for the hand Carlono extended to her.
She sat between Markeno and Jondalar under the canopy that extended from one side to the other, on a bench that could easily have accommodated more. Other people sat on benches in front and back, several of them taking up very long-handled paddles. Before she knew it, they had cast off the ropes that held them to the dock and were in the middle of the river.
Carlono's sister Carolio, singing out from the front of the boat in a strong high voice, began a rhythmic chant that rose above the liquid melody of the Great Mother River. Ayla watched with fascination as the rowers pulled against the powerful current, intrigued by the way they rowed in unison to the beat of the song, and she was surprised at how swiftly and smoothly they were propelled upstream.
At the bend in the river, the sides of the rocky gorge closed in. Between the soaring walls that reared out of the depths of the voluminous river, the sound of the water grew louder and more intense. Ayla could feel the air becoming cooler and damper, and her nostrils flared at the wet clear smell of the river and the living and dying of life within it, so different from the crisp dry aromas of the plains.
Where the gorge widened out again, trees grew on both sides down to the edge of the water. "This is beginning to look familiar," Jondalar said. "Isn't that the boat-making place ahead? Are we going to stop there?"
"Not this time. We'll keep going and turn around at Half-Fish."
"Half-Fish?" Ayla said. "What is that?"
A man sitting in front of her turned around and grinned. Ayla recalled that he was Carolio's mate. "You should ask him," he said, glancing at the man beside her. Ayla watched a red glow fill Jondalar's face as he blushed with embarrassment. "It's where he became half a Ramudoi man. Hasn't he told you about it?" Several people laughed.
"Why don't you tell it, Barono?" Jondalar said. "I'm sure it won't be the first time."
"Jondalar's right about that," Markeno said. "It's one of Barono's favorite stories. Carolio says she's tired of hearing it, but everyone knows that he can't stop telling a good story, no matter how many times he's told it."
"Well, you must admit, it was funny, Jondalar," Barono said. "But you should tell it."
Jondalar smiled in spite of himself. "To everyone else, maybe." Ayla was looking at him with a puzzled smile. "I was just learning to handle small boats," he began. "I had a harpoon—a spear for fish—with me, and started upriver, and then I noticed the stur
geon were on the move. I thought it might be my chance to get the first one, not thinking about how I would ever land a big fish like that alone, or what would happen in such a small boat."
"That fish gave him the ride of his life!" Barono said, unable to resist.
"I wasn't even sure I'd be able to spear one; I wasn't used to a spear with a cord attached," Jondalar continued. "I should have worried about what would happen if I did."
"I don't understand," Ayla said.
"If you are hunting on land and spear something, like a deer, even if you just wound it, and the spear falls out, you can trail it," Carlono explained. "You can't follow a fish in water. A harpoon has barbs that face backward and a strong cord attached, so once you spear a fish, the point with the cord stays in it so it doesn't get lost in the water. The other end of the cord can be fastened to the boat."
"The sturgeon he speared pulled him upstream, boat and all," Barono interrupted again. "We were on the shore back there, and we saw him going past, hanging on to the cord that was tied to the boat. I never saw anyone going so fast in my life. It was the funniest thing I ever saw. Jondalar thought he hooked the fish, but the fish had hooked him instead!"
Ayla was smiling along with everyone else.
"By the time the fish finally lost enough blood and died, I was pretty far upstream," Jondalar continued. "The boat was almost swamped, and I ended up swimming to the shore. In the confusion, the boat went downstream but the fish ended up in a backwater next to the land. I pulled it up on the shore. By then I was pretty cold, but I'd lost my knife and couldn't find any dry wood or anything to make fire. Suddenly a flathead ... a Clan ... youngster appeared."
Ayla's eyes opened with surprise. The story had taken on a new meaning.