The Mammoth Hunters
“That’s one reason,” Jondalar said.
It had been, a stab in the dark on Brecie’s part, the guess that Ayla had recently been adopted by the Mamut of the Lion Camp. Jondalar’s answer confirmed her speculations. It didn’t, however, answer where she came from. Most people assumed she came with the tall blond man, perhaps a hearth mate or a sister, but she knew Jondalar had arrived in their territory with only his brother. Where had he found this woman?
“Ayla! How nice to see you again.”
She looked up to see Branag arm in arm with Deegie. They embraced with warmth, and rubbed cheeks. Though she had only met him once, he felt like an old friend, and it was nice to know someone at this Meeting.
“Mother wants you to come and meet the headwoman and headman of Wolf Camp,” Deegie said.
“Of course,” Ayla said, rather glad for an excuse to get away from the sharp-eyec Brecie. Ayla had noticed the quick mind at work in the woman’s shrewd guesses, and felt a little uncomfortable around her. “Jondalar, will you stay here with the horses?” She had noticed a few other people had walked over with Branag and Deegie, and were edging closer to the animals. “This is still all new to them, and they are happier when someone they know is around. Where’s Rydag? He can watch Wolf.”
“He’s inside,” Deegie said.
Ayla turned to look, and noticed him standing shyly in the entrance. “Tulie wants me to meet headwoman. Will you watch Wolf?” Ayla signaled and spoke.
“I watch,” he signaled, glancing at the crowd of people standing around, a bit apprehensively. Rydag came out slowly, then sat down beside Wolf and put his arm around him.
“Look at that! She even talks to flatheads. She must be good with animals!” a sneering voice shouted from the crowd. Several people laughed.
Ayla spun around and glared, looking for the one who spoke.
“Anyone can talk to them—you can talk to a rock, too—it’s getting them to talk back,” another voice said, which caused more laughter.
Ayla turned in that direction, almost sputtering, so angry she could hardly speak.
“Is someone here trying to say that boy is an animal?” A more familiar voice spoke out. Ayla frowned as a member of the Lion Camp came forward.
“I am, Frebec. Why not? He doesn’t know what I’m saying. Flatheads are animals, you’ve said it often enough.”
“Now I’m saying I was wrong, Chaleg. Rydag knows exactly what you’re saying, and it’s not hard to get him to talk back to you. You just have to learn his language.”
“What language? Flatheads can’t talk. Who’s telling you these stories?”
“Sign language. He speaks with his hands,” Frebec said. There was general derisive laughter. Ayla was watching him, curious now. Frebec did not like being laughed at.
“Don’t believe me, then,” he said, shrugging and starting to walk away, as though it didn’t matter, then he turned to face the man who had been ridiculing Rydag. “But I’ll tell you something else. He can talk to that wolf, too, and if he tells that wolf to get you, I wouldn’t wager on your chances.”
Unknown to Chaleg, Frebec had been signaling to the boy, the hand motions meant nothing to the stranger. Rydag in turn had questioned Ayla. The whole Lion Camp was watching, taking delight in knowing what was coming by means of this secret language, which they could speak in front of all these people without their knowing it.
Without turning around, Frebec continued, “Why don’t you show him, Rydag?”
Suddenly Wolf was no longer sitting peacefully with the arm of a child around him. In one smooth leap, Wolf was at the man, hackles raised, teeth bared, and a growl that raised the hair on the back of every onlooker’s neck. The man’s eyes opened round as he jumped back in sheer terror. Most of the people near him jumped back as well, but Chaleg kept on going. At Rydag’s signal, Wolf calmly walked back to his place beside the boy, looking rather pleased with himself, turned around a few times, then settled down with his head on his paws, and watched Ayla.
It was taking a chance, Ayla conceded to herself. However, the signal that was given was not exactly one to attack. It was a game the children played with Wolf, a pouncing, mock-attack game that young wolves often played with each other, except Wolf had been taught to curb his bite. Ayla had been using a similar signal on their hunting forays when she wanted him to flush game for her. Though sometimes he ended up pouncing and killing the animals for himself, it was nothing like a signal to actually hurt someone, and Wolf hadn’t touched the man. He had only leaped toward him. But the danger was that he might have.
Ayla knew how protective wolves were about their own territory, or their own pack. They would kill to defend it. Yet, as she watched him walk back, she thought, if wolves could laugh, he’d be laughing. She could not help but feel that he knew what was going on; that the idea was only to bluff, and he knew just how to do it. It wasn’t just a mock attack, there was nothing playful about the way he moved. He gave every signal of attack. He had just stopped short. The sudden exposure to masses of people had been difficult for the young wolf, but he had acquitted himself well. And seeing the look on that man’s face made it worth taking the chance. Rydag was not an animal!
Branag looked a little shocked, but Deegie was grinning as they joined Tulie and Talut, and another couple. Ayla was formally introduced to the co-leaders of the host Camp, and immediately knew what everyone else knew. Marlie was very ill. She shouldn’t even be standing here, Ayla thought, mentally prescribing medicines and preparations for her. As she noticed her color, the look of her eye, the texture of her skin and hair, Ayla wondered if anything could help her, but she sensed the strength of the woman; she would not give in easily. That could be more important than medicines.
“That was quite a demonstration, Ayla,” Marlie said, noticing the interesting peculiarity of her speech. “Was it the boy or you controlling the wolf?”
“I don’t know,” she said, smiling. “Wolf responds to signals, but we both gave them.”
“Wolf? You say it like a name,” Valez said.
“It is his name.”
“Do the horses have names, too?” Marlie asked.
“The mare is whinny.” Ayla said it like the sound a horse would make, and Whinney nickered back, causing smiles, but nervous ones. “Most people just say her name, Whinney. The stallion is her son. Jondalar named him Racer. It is a word from his language that means one who likes to run fast and beat the others.”
Marlie nodded. Ayla looked hard at the woman for a moment, then turned to Talut. “I am very tired from working to make that place for the horses. Do you see that big log? Would you bring it here so I can sit?”
For a moment the big headman was totally startled. It was so out of character. Ayla simply would not ask such a thing, especially in the middle of a conversation with the headwoman of the host Camp. If anyone needed a place to sit, Marlie did. Then it hit him. Of course! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He hurried to get the log and manhandled it back himself.
Ayla sat down. “I hope you don’t mind. I really am tired. Won’t you join me, Marlie?”
Marlie sat, shaking a little. After a while, she smiled. “Thank you, Ayla. I hadn’t planned to stay here so long. How did you know I was feeling dizzy?”
“She’s a Healer,” Deegie said.
“A Caller and a Healer? That’s an unusual combination. No wonder the Mammoth Hearth claimed her.”
“There is something I’d like to prepare for you, if you would take it,” Ayla said.
“Healers have seen me, but you are welcome to try, Ayla. Now, before the subject is lost forever, there is a question I want to ask. Were you certain the wolf would not harm that man?”
Ayla paused only a moment. “No. I was not certain. He is still very young, and not always completely reliable. But I thought I was close enough to block his attack if he didn’t stop it short himself.”
Marlie nodded. “People are not always completely reliable; I would not
expect animals to be. If you had said otherwise, I would not have believed you. Chaleg will complain, you know, as soon as he recovers, to save face. He will bring it to the Council of Brothers, and they will bring it to us.”
“Us?”
“The Council of Sisters,” Tulie said. “The Sisters are the final authority. They are closer to the Mother.”
“I am glad I was here to see it. Now I don’t have to worry about sorting through conflicting stories that are unbelievable to begin with,” Marlie said. She shifted her gaze and studied the horses and then Wolf. “They seem to be perfectly normal animals, not spirits or other magic things. Tell me, what do the animals eat when they are with you, Ayla? They do eat?”
“The same thing they always eat. Wolf eats mostly meat, either raw or cooked. He’s like another person in the lodge, and usually eats what I eat, even vegetables. Sometimes I hunt for him, but he’s getting good at catching mice and small animals for himself. The horses eat grass and grains. I was thinking of taking them down to that meadow across the river soon and leaving them there for a while.”
Valez looked down across the water, and then at Talut. Ayla could see he was thinking. “I don’t like to say this, Ayla, but it could be dangerous to leave them there alone.”
“Why?” she asked, with an edge of panic to her voice.
“Hunters. They look like any other horses, particularly the mare. The dark color of the young one is unusual enough. We should be able to pass the word not to kill any brown horses, especially if they seem very friendly. But the other one … every other horse on the steppes is that color, and I don’t think we can ask people not to kill horses. It is the favorite meat of some people,” Valez explained.
“Then I’ll have to go with her,” Ayla said.
“You can’t do that!” Deegie cried. “You’ll miss out on everything.”
“I can’t let anything hurt her,” Ayla said. “?I just have to miss things.”
“That would be too bad,” Tulie said.
“Can’t you think of something?” Deegie said.
“No … if only she was brown, too,” Ayla said.
“Well, why not make her brown?”
“Make her brown? How?”
“What if we mix some color like I do for leather, and rub it on her.”
Ayla thought for a while. “I don’t think it will work. It’s a good idea, Deegie, but the trouble is, making her brown really won’t make much difference. Even Racer is still in danger. A brown horse still looks like a horse, and if someone is hunting horses, it won’t be easy to remember not to kill brown ones.”
“That’s true,” Talut said. “Hunters think about hunting, and two brown horses that aren’t afraid of people would make very tempting targets.”
“How about a different color like … red. Why not make Whinney a red horse? A bright red horse. Then she’d really stand out.”
Ayla made a face. “I don’t like the thought of making her a red horse, Deegie. She would look so strange. It is a good idea, though. Everyone would know she is not an ordinary horse. I think we should do it, but a bright red horse … Wait! I have another idea.” Ayla rushed into the tent. She dumped her traveling pack out on top of her sleeping furs, and found what she was looking for near the bottom. She ran out with it.
“Look, Deegie! Remember this?” Ayla said, opening out the bright red hide she had dyed herself. “I never could think of anything to make with it. I just liked it for the color. I can tie this on Whinney when she’s out in the meadow alone.”
“That is a bright red!” Valez said, smiling and nodding his head. “I think it will work. With that on, anyone who saw her would know she is a special horse, and would probably hesitate to hunt her, even without being told. We can announce it tonight that the horse with the red cover and the brown one with her are not to be hunted.”
“It might not hurt to tie something on Racer, too,” Talut said. “It wouldn’t have to be as bright, but something made by a person so anyone who gets close enough to throw a spear will know he is not ordinary.”
“I would suggest,” Marlie added, “that since all people are not entirely reliable, sometimes telling is not enough. It might be wise for you and your Mamut to contrive some prohibition against killing the horses. A good curse could scare off anyone who might be tempted to see how mortal those animals are.”
“You can always say that Rydag will send Wolf to get anyone who hurts them,” Branag said, with a smile. “That story is probably all over the Meeting by now, and grown bigger with each telling.”
“That may not be such a bad idea,” Marlie said, standing up to go. “At least it could be spread around as a rumor.”
They watched the co-leaders of the Wolf Camp go, then shaking her head sadly, Tulie went to finish getting settled in. Talut decided to go find out who was organizing competitions to set up a spear-thrower competition, and stopped to talk to Brecie and Jondalar. The three left together. Deegie and Branag walked with Ayla toward the horses.
“I know just the person to tell to start the rumor going,” Branag said. “With the stories going around already, even if they aren’t entirely believed, I think they will avoid the horses. I don’t think anyone will want to take a chance that Rydag might send the wolf after him. I’ve been meaning to ask, how did Rydag know to signal the wolf?”
Deegie looked at the man to whom she was Promised with surprise. “I guess you don’t know, do you? I don’t know why I should think that just because I know something, you know it, too. Frebec wasn’t just making something up to defend Lion Camp. He was telling the truth. Rydag understands everything that everyone says. He always has. We just didn’t know it until Ayla taught us all his sign language so we could understand him. When Frebec was pretending to walk away, he told Rydag, and Rydag asked Ayla. We all knew what they were saying, so we knew what was going to happen.”
“Is that true?” Branag asked. “You were talking to each other and no one knew it!” He laughed. “Well, if I’m going to be in on the Lion Camp’s surprises, maybe I should learn this secret language, too.”
“Ayla!” Crozie called, coming out of the tent. They stopped and let her catch up. “Tulie just told me what you decided to do to mark the horses,” she said, coming toward them. “Smart idea, and red will stand out on a light-colored horse, but you don’t have two bright red hides. When I was unpacking, I found something I’d like you to have.” She unwrapped a bundle that had recently been untied, took out a folded hide and shook it open.
“Oh, Crozie!” Ayla exclaimed. “This is beautiful!” she breathed in wonder at a chalk-white leather cape decorated with ivory beads in subtle repetitive triangles, and hedgehog quills, dyed ochre red and sewn on in patterns of right-angled spirals and zigzags.
Crozie’s eyes lit up at her admiration. Having made a tunic, Ayla understood the difficulty of making leather white. “It’s for Racer. I think white against his dark brown coat will stand out.”
“Crozie, it’s too beautiful for that. It will get dirty and dusty, and especially if he tries to roll with it on, it will lose the decorations. I can’t let Racer wear this out in the field,” Ayla said.
Crozie looked at her sternly. “If someone is out hunting horses and sees a brown horse with a white decorated cover on his back, do you think that hunter is likely to aim a spear at him?”
“No, but you have put too much work into that to let it get ruined.”
“The work was put in many years ago,” Crozie said, then with a softening expression and a misting of her eyes, she added, “It was made for my son, Fralie’s brother. I have never been able to give it to anyone else. I could not bear to see someone else wear it, and I could not throw it away. I have just dragged it around from place to place, a useless piece of hide, the work wasted. If this hide will help protect that animal, it will no longer be useless, the work will have some value. I want you to have it, for what you have given me.”
Ayla took the proffered package, but
looked puzzled. “What have I given you, Crozie?”
“It’s not important,” she said abruptly. “Just take it.”
Frebec, hurrying into the tent, looked up and saw them, and smiled, full of self-satisfaction, before going in. They smiled back.
“I was very surprised when Frebec came forward to defend Rydag,” Branag commented. “I would have thought he would be the last one.”
“He’s changed a lot,” Deegie said. “He still likes to argue, but he’s not so hard to get along with. He’s willing to listen sometimes.”
“Well, he never was afraid to step up and say what he thought,” Branag said.
“Maybe that’s what it was,” Crozie said. “I never did understand what Fralie saw in him. I tried my best to talk her out of joining with him. He didn’t have a thing to offer. His mother had no status, he had no particular talents, I thought she was throwing herself away. Maybe just having the nerve to ask says something for him, and he really did want her. I suppose I should have trusted her judgment all along, after all, she is my daughter. Just because someone comes from poor beginnings doesn’t mean he may not want to better himself.”
Branag looked at Deegie, and then Ayla, over Crozie’s head. In his opinion, she had changed even more than Frebec.
32
Ayla was alone in the tent. She glanced over the area that would be her place for the duration of their stay, trying to find one more article to fold, one more object to arrange, one more reason to delay leaving the confines of Cattail Camp. As soon as she was ready, Mamut had told her, he wanted to take her to meet the people with whom she was associated with in a unique way, the mamuti, those who belonged to the Mammoth Hearth.
She looked upon the meeting as an ordeal, certain they would want to question her, evaluate her, and judge whether she had a right to be included within their ranks. In her heart, she didn’t believe she did. She didn’t feel possessed of unique talents and special gifts. She was a Healer because she had learned the skills and knowledge of a medicine woman from Iza. There was no great magic in having the animals, either. The mare answered to her because, when she was alone, and lonely, in her valley, she had taken in a motherless foal for company, and Racer was born there. She saved Wolf because she owed it to his mother, and she knew by then that animals raised around people would be friendly. It wasn’t a big mystery.