They put up their tent at a site that had obviously been used before. Ayla thought the horses seemed agitated when they were let free to graze on the fresh grass of the plateau, but she had seen some young coltsfoot and sorrel leaves. When she went to pick them, she saw some spring mushrooms and then crab apple blossoms and elder shoots. She returned to their campsite holding the front of her tunic out like a basket, full of fresh greens and other delicacies.
"I think you are planning a feast," Jondalar said.
"It's not a bad idea. I saw a nest that I want to go back and check for eggs," Ayla said.
"Then what do you think of this?" he said, holding up a trout. Ayla smiled with delight. "I thought I saw it in the stream, sharpened a green stick into a gorge, and dug up a worm to thread around it. This fish bit so fast, it was almost like it was waiting for me."
"Definitely the makings for a feast!"
"But it can wait, can't it?" Jondalar said. "I think I'd rather see a hot bath right now." His blue eyes filled with his thoughts of her and aroused her response.
"A wonderful idea," she said, emptying her tunic beside the firepit, then walking into his arms.
They sat side by side, a little back from the fire, feeling replete, satisfied, and entirely relaxed, watching sparks dance an arabesque and disappear into the night. Wolf was dozing nearby. Suddenly he raised his head and cocked his ears toward the dark plateau. They heard a loud, full-throated neigh, but it was not familiar. Then the mare squealed, and Racer whinnied.
"There's a strange horse in the field," Ayla said, jumping up. It was a moonless night and hard to see.
"You'll never find your way out there tonight. Let me try to find something to make a torch."
Whinney squealed again, the strange horse neighed, and they heard hoofbeats racing off into the night.
"That does it," Jondalar said. "It's too late tonight. I think she's gone. A horse has captured her again."
"This time, I think she left because she wanted to. I thought she seemed nervous; I should have paid closer attention," Ayla said. "It's her season, Jondalar. I'm sure that was a stallion, and I think Racer went with them. He's too young, yet, but I'm sure other mares are in season, too, and he would be drawn to them."
"It's too dark to look for them now, but I do know this region. We can track them in the morning."
"The last time, I took her out, and the brown stallion came for her. She came back to me on her own, and later, she had Racer. I think she's out starting a baby again," Ayla said, sitting down by the fire. She looked at Jondalar and grinned. "It seems right, both of us pregnant at the same time."
It took a moment for her statement to register. "Both of you ... pregnant ... at the same time? Ayla! Are you saying you are pregnant? Are you going to have a baby?"
"Yes," she said, nodding. "I am going to have your baby, Jondalar."
"My baby? You're going to have my baby? Ayla! Ayla." He picked her up, spun her around, and then kissed her. "Are you sure? I mean, are you sure you are going to have a baby? The spirit could have come from one of the men at Dalanar's Cave, or even the Losadunai. ... That's all right, if that's what the Mother wants."
"I passed my moon time without bleeding, and I feel pregnant. I've even been getting a little sick in the morning. Not bad, though. I think we started it when we got down off the glacier," Ayla said. "And it is your baby, Jondalar, I'm sure of it. It can't be anyone else's. Started with your essence. The essence of your manhood."
"My baby?" he said, a look of soft wonder in his eyes. He put his hand on her stomach. "You have my baby in there? I've wanted that so much," he said, looking away and blinking his eyes. "Do you know, I even asked the Mother for it."
"Didn't you tell me the Mother always gives you what you ask for, Jondalar?" She smiled with his happiness, and her own. "Tell me, did you ask for a boy or a girl?"
"Just a baby, Ayla. It doesn't matter which."
"Then you won't mind if I hope for a girl this time?"
He shook his head. "Just your baby, and maybe, mine."
"The trouble with tracking horses on foot is that they can travel so much faster than we can," Ayla said.
"But I think I know where they might be going," Jondalar said, "and I know a shorter way, up over the top of that ridge."
"What if they aren't where you think?"
"Then we'll have to come back and pick up their trail again, but their tracks are heading in the right direction," he said. "Don't worry, Ayla. We'll find them."
"We have to, Jondalar. We've been through too much. I can't let her go back to a herd now."
Jondalar led the way to a sheltered field where he had often seen horses before. They found many horses there. It did not take Ayla long to identify her friend. They clambered down to the edge of the grassy bottomland, although Jondalar watched Ayla closely, a little worried that she might be doing more than she should. She whistled the familiar call.
Whinney lifted her head and galloped toward the woman, followed by a large pale stallion and a young brown one. The pale stallion detoured to challenge the young one, who quickly backed away. Although he was excited by the presence of females in heat, he was not ready to challenge the experienced herd stallion for his own dam. Jondalar ran toward Racer, spear-thrower in hand, ready to protect him from the powerful dominant animal, but the young stallion's own actions had protected him. The pale horse veered back toward the receptive mare.
Ayla was standing with her arms around Whinney's neck when the stallion arrived, reared, and displayed his full potential. Whinney backed away from the woman and answered. Jondalar approached, leading Racer with a sturdy rope attached to his halter, looking worried.
"You can try putting her halter on her," Jondalar said.
"No. We'll have to camp here tonight. She's not ready to come yet. They are making a baby, and Whinney wants one. I want to let her," Ayla said.
Jondalar shrugged his acquiescence. "Why not? There's no hurry. We can camp here for a while." He watched Racer strain toward the herd. "He wants to join the others, too. Do you think it would be safe to let him go?"
"I don't think they'll go anyplace. This is a big field, and if they do go away, we can climb up and see where they're heading. It might be good for him to be with other horses for a while. Maybe he can learn from them," Ayla said.
"I think you're right," he said, slipping off the halter, and watching Racer gallop down the field. "I wonder if Racer will ever be a herd stallion? And share Pleasures with all of the females." And, maybe, start young horses growing inside them, he thought.
"We might as well find a place to make camp and make ourselves comfortable," Ayla said. "And think about hunting something to cat. There may be willow grouse in those trees by that stream."
"Too bad there are no hot springs here," Jondalar said. "It's amazing how relaxing a hot bath is."
Ayla looked down from a great height at an unending expanse of water. In the opposite direction, the broad grassy plains stretched out as far as she could see. Nearby was a familiar mountain meadow, with a small cave in a rock wall at the edge. Hazelnut brush grew against the wall, hiding the entrance.
She was afraid. It was snowing outside the cave, blocking the entrance, but when she pushed the brush aside and stepped out, it was spring. Flowers were blooming and birds singing. New life was everywhere. The lusty cry of a newborn came from the cave.
She was following someone down the mountain, carrying a baby on her hip with the help of a carrying cloak. He limped and walked with a staff and carried something in a cloak on his back that bulged out. It was Creb, and he was protecting her newborn. They walked, it seemed forever, but traveled a great distance across mountains and vast plains, until they came to a valley with a grassy sheltered field. Horses went there frequently.
Creb stopped, took off his bulging cloak and laid it on the ground. She thought she saw the white of bone inside, but a young brown horse stepped away from the cloak, and ran to a dun yellow mare
. She whistled to the horse, but she galloped away with a pale stallion.
Creb turned and beckoned to her, but she couldn't quite understand his sign. It was an everyday language she didn't know. He made a new signal. "Come, we can be there before dark."
She was in a long tunnel deep in a cave. Ahead a light flickered. It was an opening to the outside. She was walking up a steep path along a wall of creamy white rock, following a man taking long, eager strides. She knew the place, and she hurried to catch up.
"Wait! Wait for me. I'm coming," she called out.
"Ayla! Ayla!" Jondalar was shaking her. "Were you having a bad dream?"
"A strange dream, but not a bad dream," she said… She got up, felt a wave of nausea, and lay back down, hoping it would go away.
Jondalar flapped the leather ground cloth at the pale stallion, and Wolf yipped and harried him, while Ayla slipped a halter over Whinney's head. She had only a small pack. Racer, tied securely to a tree, carried most of the burden.
Ayla leaped to the mare's back and urged her to a gallop, guiding her along the edge of the long field. The stallion chased them, but he slowed as they gained distance from the rest of the mares. Finally he pulled to a halt, reared, and neighed, calling to Whinney. He reared again and raced back toward the herd. Several stallions had already tried to take advantage of his absence. He closed in and reared again, screaming a challenge.
Ayla on Whinney kept going, but she slowed down from the fast gallop. When she heard hoofbeats behind, she stopped and waited for Jondalar and Racer, with Wolf on their heels.
"If we hurry, we can be there before dark," Jondalar said.
Ayla and Whinney fell in beside them. She had the strange feeling that she had done this before.
They rode at a comfortable pace. "I think we are both going to have babies, now," Ayla said, "our second ones, and we both had sons before. I think that's good. We can share this time together."
"You'll have many people to share your pregnancy with," Jondalar said.
"I'm sure you are right, but it will be nice to share it with Whinney, too, since we both got pregnant on this Journey." They rode in silence for a while. "She's a lot younger than I am, though. I'm old to be having a baby."
"You're not so old, Ayla. I'm the old man."
"I am nineteen years this spring. That's old to have a baby."
"I am much older. I am past twenty and three years, by now. That is old for a man to be settling down to his own hearth for the first time. Do you realize I've been gone five years? I wonder if anyone will even remember me," Jondalar said.
"Of course they will remember you. Dalanar didn't have any trouble, and neither did Joplaya," Ayla said. Everyone will know him, she thought, but no one will know me.
"Look! See that rock over there? Just beyond the turn in the river? That's where I made my first kill!" Jondalar said, urging Racer on a little faster. "It was a big deer. I don't know what I was most afraid of —those big antlers, or missing and going home empty-handed."
Ayla smiled, pleased at his remembrances, but there was nothing for her to remember. She would be a stranger again. They would all stare at her, and they would ask about her strange accent and where she came from.
"We had a Summer Meeting here once," Jondalar said. "There were hearths set up all over this place. It was my first after I became a man. Oh, how I strutted, trying to act so old, but so afraid that no young woman would invite me to her First Rites. I guess I didn't have to worry. I was invited to three, and that scared me even more!"
"There are some people over there, watching us, Jondalar," Ayla said.
"That's the Fourteenth Cave!" he said, and waved. No one waved back. Instead they disappeared under a deep overhang.
"It must be the horses," Ayla said.
He frowned, then shook his head. "They'll get used to them."
I hope so, Ayla thought, and me, too. The only thing familiar around here will be Jondalar.
"Ayla! There it is!" Jondalar said. "The Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii."
She looked in the direction he was pointing, and she felt herself blanch.
"It's always easy to find because of that outcrop on top. See, where it looks like a stone is ready to fall? It won't though, unless the whole thing does." Jondalar turned to look at her. "Ayla, are you ill? You're so pale."
She stopped. "I've seen that place before, Jondalar!"
"How could you? You've never been here before."
Suddenly it all came together. It was the cave in my dreams! The one that came from Creb's memories, she thought. Now I know what he was trying to tell me in my dreams.
"I told you my totem meant you for me and sent you to come and get me. He wanted you to take me home, the place where my Cave Lion spirit will be happy. This is it. I have come home, too, Jondalar. Your home is my home," Ayla said.
He smiled; but before he could answer, they heard a voice shouting his name. "Jondalar! Jondalar!"
They looked up along a path to a cliff overhang, and saw a young woman.
"Mother! Come quick," she said. "Jondalar is back. Jondalar is home!"
And so am I, Ayla thought.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Each of the books in this Earth's Children™ series has posed its own unique challenges, but from the beginning, when the sometime novel/six-book outline was first conceived, the fourth book, the "travel book," has been both the most difficult and the most interesting to research and write. The Plains of Passage required some additional travel for the author as well, including a return visit to Czechoslovakia, and trips to Hungary, Austria, and Germany to follow a portion of the Danube (the Great Mother River). But to put the setting into the Ice Age, even more time was needed for library research.
I am again indebted to Dr. Jan Jelinek, Director Emeritus, Anthropos Institute, Brno, Czechoslovakia, for his unfailing kindness, assistance, and astute observations and interpretations of the rich Upper Paleolithic artifacts of the region.
I am also grateful to Dr. Bohuslav Klima, Archeologicky Ustav CSAV, for the wonderful wine tasting in his own cellar from his vineyards near Dolni Vestonice, but more for giving so generously of his lifetime of knowledge and information about that most important early site.
I would also like to thank Dr. Jiri Svoboda, Archeologicky Ustav CSAV, for information on his startling new discoveries that add greatly to our knowledge about our Early Modern Human ancestors who lived more than two hundred fifty centuries ago when ice covered a quarter of the globe.
To Dr. Olga Soffer, the leading American expert on the Upper Paleolithic people of Central and Eastern Europe, I extend thanks and gratitude beyond measure for keeping me informed about the most recent developments, and supplied with the latest papers, including the results of a new study on the earliest ceramic art in human history.
I want to thank Dr. Milford Wolpoff, University of Michigan, for his insights during our discussion about population distributions on the northern continents during the last Ice Age, when our modern human forebears clustered in concentrations in certain favorable areas and left most of the land, though rich in animal life, without people.
Finding the pieces of the puzzle that were necessary to create this fictional world of the prehistoric past was a challenge; putting them together was another. After studying the material available about glaciers and the environment that surrounded them, I still could not get a completely clear picture of all the northern lands, so that I could move my characters through their world. There were questions, theories at odds with each other—some of which did not seem very well thought out—pieces that did not fit.
Finally, with great relief and growing enthusiasm, I found the one clearly explained and thoughtfully constructed study that brought the Ice Age world into sharp focus. It answered the questions that had risen in my mind, and enabled me to fit in the rest of the pieces from other sources and my own speculations so that I could make a logical setting. I will be eternally grateful to R. Dale Guthrie for his
article "Mammals of the Mammoth Steppe as Paleoenvironmental Indicators," pages 307-326, from Paleoecology of Beringia (Ed. by David M. Hopkins, John V. Matthews, Jr., Charles E. Schweger, and Steven B. Young, Academic Press, 1982). More than any other single work, that paper helped this book come together as a cohesive, comprehensive, and comprehensible whole.
Since woolly mammoths symbolize the Ice Age, considerable effort was devoted to bringing those prehistoric pachyderms to life. My research included searching out everything I could find on mammoths and, since they were so closely related, modern elephants. Among these sources, Elephant Memories: Thirteen Years in the Life of an Elephant Family by Dr. Cynthia Moss (William Morrow & Co., Inc., 1988), stands out as a definitive work. I am indebted to Dr. Moss for her many years of study and her intelligent and highly readable book.
In addition to research, a writer is concerned about the way her words come together and the quality of the finished work. I am forever grateful to Laurie Stark, Executive Managing Editor of the Crown Publishing Group, who makes sure the finished manuscript becomes the printed pages of a well-made book. She has been responsible for all four books, and, in a changing world, I appreciate the continuity and consistently high quality she has given them.
I am also thankful for Betty A. Prashker, Editor-in-Chief, Vice President, and more important, outstanding editor, who marshals—or mothers—the manuscript I turn in to its finished form.
My thanks go in full measure to Jean V. Naggar; in the Literary Olympics, a world-class, first-place, gold-medal-winning agent!
And finally to Ray Auel, love and appreciation beyond words.
Jean M. Auel, The Plains of Passage
(Series: Earth's Children # 4)
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