The Mammoth Hunters

29

Ayla usually counted her years at the end of winter, beginning her new year with the season of new life, and the spring of her eighteenth year had been glorious with a profusion of meadow flowers and the fresh green of new growth. It was welcomed as it could be only in a place of frigid winter wastelands, but after the Spring Festival the season ripened quickly. As the bright flowers of the steppes faded, they were replaced by the fast-growing, lush crop of new grass – and the roaming grazers it brought. The seasonal migrations had begun.

Animals in great numbers and many different varieties were on the move across the open plains. Some converged until their numbers became uncountable, others assembled in smaller herds or family groups, but all derived their sustenance, their life, from the great, windswept, incredibly rich grasslands, and the glacier-fed river systems that cut through it.

Huge hordes of big-horned bison covered hills and dips with a living, bawling, restless, undulating mass that left raw, trampled earth behind. Wild cattle, aurochs, were strung out for miles in the open woodlands along the major river valleys as they traveled northward, sometimes commingled with herds of elk and massive-antlered giant deer. Shy roe deer traveled through riverine woodlands and boreal forests in small parties to spring and summer feeding grounds, along with unsociable moose who also frequented the bogs and melt lakes of the steppes. Wild goats and mouflon, usually mountain-dwelling, took to the open plains in the cold northern lands, and mingled at watering places with small family groups of saiga antelope, and larger herds of steppe horses.

The seasonal movement of woolly animals was more limited. With their thick layer of fat and heavy double coats of fur, they were adapted for life near the glacier and could not survive too much warmth. They lived year-round in the northern periglacial regions of the steppes, where the cold was deeper but dry, and snow was slight, feeding in winter on the coarse, dry standing hay. The sheeplike musk-oxen were permanent inhabitants of the frozen north, and moved in small herds within a limited territory. Woolly rhinoceroses, who usually gathered only in family groups, and the larger herds of woolly mammoths ranged farther, but in winter they stayed north. In the slightly warmer and wetter continental steppes to the south, deep snows buried feed and caused the heavy animals to flounder. They went south in spring to fatten on the tender new grass, but as soon as it warmed, they would move north again.

The Lion Camp rejoiced to see the plains teeming with life again, and remarked upon each species as it appeared, especially the animals who thrived in deep cold. Those were the ones who most helped them to survive. A sighting of the enormous, unpredictable rhinos, with two horns, the front one long and low-slung, and two coats of reddish fur, a soft downy underwool and an outer layer of long guard hair, always brought exclamations of wonder.

Nothing, however, created such sheer excitement among the Mamutoi as the sight of mammoths. When the usual time for them to pass by drew near, someone from the Lion Camp was always on the lookout. Except from a distance, Ayla hadn't seen a mammoth since she lived with the Clan, and she was as excited as anyone when Danug came running down the slope one afternoon shouting, "Mammoths! Mammoths!"

She was among the first to rush out of the lodge to see them. Talut, who often carried Rydag perched up on his shoulders, had been on the steppes with Danug, and she noticed Nezzie, with the boy on her hip, was straggling behind. She started back to help, then saw Jondalar take him from the woman and hoist him up to his shoulders. He received warm smiles from both. Ayla smiled, too, though he didn't see her. The expression was still on her face when she turned to Ranec who had jogged to catch up with her. Her tender, beautiful smile evoked in him an intense feeling of warmth and a fierce wish that she was already his. She couldn't help but respond to the love in his dark, flashing eyes and the compelling grin. Her smile remained for him.

On the steppes, the Lion Camp watched the huge shaggy creatures with silent awe. They were the largest animals in their land – indeed, they would have been in almost any land. The herd, with several young in it, was passing close by, and the old matriarch eyed the people warily. She stood about ten feet high at the shoulders, and had a high domed head and a hump on the withers, used to store additional fat for winter. A short back that sloped down steeply to the pelvis completed the characteristic and immediately recognizable profile. Her skull was large in proportion to her size, more than half the length of her relatively short trunk, from the end of which two sensitive, mobile, finger projections extended, an upper and a lower one. Her tail was short, also, and her ears were small, to conserve heat.

Mammoths were eminently suited to their frigid domain. Their skin was very thick, insulated by three inches or more of subcutaneous fat, and closely covered with a soft, dense undercoat, about an inch long. The coarse long outer hair, up to twenty inches in length, was a dark reddish-brown, and hung in neat layers over the thick winter downy wool, as a warm, moisture-shedding cover and windbreak. With efficient rasplike grinders, they consumed a winter diet of coarse dry grass, plus twigs and bark of birches, willows, and larches with as much ease as they did their summer diet of green grasses, sedges, and herbs.

Most impressive of all, the mammoths' immense tusks inspired amazement and awe. Originating close together out of the lower jaw, they first pointed steeply downward, then curved strongly outward, upward, and finally inward. In old males, a tusk could reach sixteen feet in length, but by then, they were crossed over in front. In young animals the tusks were effective weapons and built-in tools for uprooting trees and clearing snow from pasture and feed, but when the two points curved up and overlapped, they got in the way, and were more hindrance than help.

The sight of the enormous animals brought a flood of memories to Ayla of the first time she had seen mammoths. She recalled wishing, then, that she could go hunting with the men of the Clan, and remembered that Talut had invited her to go on the first mammoth hunt with the Mamutoi. She did like to hunt, and the idea that she might actually join the hunters this time gave her a tingle of anticipation. She began to really look forward to the Summer Meeting.

The first hunt of the season had important symbolic meaning. As massive and majestic as woolly mammoths were, the Mamutoi feeling for them went beyond wonder at their size. They depended upon the animal for much more than food, and in their need and desire to assure the continuance of the great beasts, they conceived a special relationship with them. They held them in reverence because they based their own identity on them.

Mammoths had no real natural enemies; no carnivorous animal regularly depended on them for sustenance. The huge cave lions, twice the size of any large feline, which normally preyed on the large grazers – aurochs, bison, giant deer, elk, moose, or horse – and could kill a full-grown adult, occasionally brought down a young, sick, or very old mammoth, but no four-legged predator, singly or in groups, could kill an adult mammoth in its prime. Only the Mamutoi, the human children of the Great Earth Mother, had been given the ability to hunt the largest of Her creatures. They were the chosen ones. Among all Her creations, they were preeminent. They were the Mammoth Hunters.

After the mammoth herd passed, the people of the Lion Camp followed eagerly behind them. Not to hunt them, that would come later. They were after the soft, downy wool of their winter undercoats, which was being shed in large handfuls through the coarser outer guard hairs. The naturally colored dark red wool, which was gathered from the ground and spiny brush that caught and held it, was considered a special gift from the Spirit Mammoth.

As chance provided, the white wool of mouflon which was shed naturally by the wild sheep in spring, the unbelievably soft earthy-brown downy wool of musk-ox, and the lighter red rhinoceros underwool were also gathered with great enthusiasm. In their minds, they offered thanks and appreciation to the Great Earth Mother who gave Her children everything they needed from her abundance, vegetable products and animals, and materials like flint and clay. They only had to know where and when to look.

Though fresh vegetables – carbohydrates – were enthusiastically added to their diet, fur all the rich variety available to them, the Mamutoi hunted little in spring and early summer, unless stored supplies of meat were very low. The animals were too lean. The deep, hard winter sapped them of the required concentrated sources of energy in the form of fat. Their perambulations were driven by the need to replenish. A few male bison were picked off, if the fur at the nape of the neck was still black, indicating fat still present in some measure, and a few pregnant females of several species, for the tender fetus meat and skin which made soft baby clothes, or undergarments. The major exception was reindeer.

Vast herds of reindeer migrated north, the antlered females with the last year's young leading the way along remembered trails to their traditional calving grounds, followed by the males. As with other herding animals, their ranks were thinned by wolves that ranged along their flanks searching out the weak and the old, and by several species of felines: large lynxes, long-bodied leopards, and an occasional massive cave lion. The large carnivores played host with their leavings to a great variety of secondary carnivores and scavengers, both four-legged and flying: foxes, hyenas, brown bears, civets, small steppe cats, wolverines, weasels, ravens, kites, hawks, and many more.

The two-legged hunters preyed on them all. The fur and feathers of their hunting competitors were not disdained, though reindeer were the primary game of the Lion Camp – not for the meat, although it did not go to waste. The tongue was considered a treat and much of the meat was dried for use in traveling food, but it was the hides they wanted. Commonly grayish-fawn, but ranging in color from creamy white to almost black, with a reddish-brown cast in the young, the coat of the most northern ranging deer was both lightweight and warm. Because their fur was naturally insulating, no finer cold-weather clothing could be found than that made from reindeer hide, and it was without equal for bedding and ground sheets. With surrounds and pit traps, the Lion Camp hunted them every year, to replenish their own supplies and for gifts to take with them when they set out on their own summer migrations.

As the Lion Camp prepared for the Summer Meeting, excitement ran high. At least once every day, someone told Ayla how much she would like meeting some relative or friend, or how much they would want to meet her. The only one who seemed to lack enthusiasm for the gathering of the Camps was Rydag. Ayla had never seen the boy in such low spirits, and she worried about his health.

She watched him carefully for several days, and one unusually warm afternoon when he was outside watching several people stretching reindeer hides, she sat down beside him.

"I have made new medicine for you, Rydag, to take to the Summer Meeting," Ayla said. "It is fresher, and may be stronger. You will have to tell me if you feel any differences, better or worse," she said, using both hand signs and words, as she usually did with him. "How are you feeling now? Any changes lately?"

Rydag liked it when Ayla talked to him. Though he was profoundly grateful for his new ability to communicate with his Camp, their understanding and use of sign language was essentially simple and direct. He had understood their verbal language for years, but when they spoke to him, they tended to simplify it to match the signs they used. Her signs were closer in nuance and feeling to verbal speech, and they enhanced her words.

"No, feel same," the boy signed.

"Not tired?"

"No… Yes. Always little tired." He smiled. "Not as much."

Ayla nodded, studying him carefully, checking for any visible symptoms, trying to assure herself that there was no change in his condition, at least none for the worse. She did not see any signs of physical deterioration, but he seemed dejected.

"Rydag, is something bothering you? Are you unhappy?"

He shrugged, and looked away. Then he looked back at her. "Not want to go," he signed.

"Where don't you want to go? I don't understand."

"Not want to go Meeting," he said, looking away again.

Ayla frowned, but didn't press. Rydag didn't seem to want to talk about it, and soon went inside the lodge. She followed him in through the front foyer, trying not to seem conspicuous, and from the cooking hearth watched him lie down on his bed. She was worried about him. He seldom went to bed voluntarily during the day. She saw Nezzie come in and stop to tie the front drape back. Ayla hurried toward her, to help.

"Nezzie, do you know what's wrong with Rydag? He seems so… unhappy," Ayla said.

"I know. He gets that way this time of year. It's the Summer Meeting. He doesn't like it."

"That's what he said. Why?"

Nezzie paused and looked full at Ayla. "You really don't know, do you?" The young woman shook her head. Nezzie shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Ayla. There's nothing you can do."

Ayla walked through the lodge along the passageway, and glanced at the boy. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't sleeping. She shook her head, wishing she could help. She guessed it was something about his difference, but he had been to Meetings before.

She hurried through the empty Fox Hearth, and into the Mammoth Hearth. Suddenly, Wolf came bounding in through the front entrance and was at her heels, playfully jumping up. She commanded him down with a signal. He obeyed, but looked so hurt she relented and threw him the well-chewed-up piece of soft leather that had once been one of her favorite stocking-shoes. She had finally given it to him when it seemed to be the only way to break him of chewing up everyone else's shoes and boots. He quickly tired of his old toy and, getting down on his forelegs, wagged his tail and yipped at her. Ayla couldn't help smiling, and decided it was just too nice a day to stay inside. On the spur of the moment, she picked up her sling and a pouch of round stones she had gathered, and signaled Wolf to follow her. Seeing Whinney in the annex, she decided to include the mare as well.

Ayla went out through the arched entrance of the annex, followed by the hay-colored horse, and the young gray wolf, whose fur and markings were typical of his species, unlike his black mother. She noticed Racer partway down the slope toward the river. Jondalar was with him. His shirt was off in the warm sun, and he was leading the young stallion by a rope. As promised, he had been training Racer, spending most of his time at it, in fact, and both he and the horse seemed to enjoy it.

He saw her, and motioned for her to wait as he started up toward her. It was unusual for him to approach her, or indicate that he wanted to speak to her. Jondalar had changed since the incident on the steppes. He no longer avoided her, exactly, but he seldom made an effort to talk to her, and when he did, he was like a stranger, reserved and polite. She had hoped the young stallion would bring him closer to her, but if anything, he seemed more distant.

She waited, watching the tall, muscular, handsome man approach her, and unbidden, the thought of her warm response to his need on the steppes came to her mind. In an instant, she felt herself want him. It was a reaction of her body, beyond her control, but as Jondalar neared, she noticed the color rise to his face and his rich blue eyes fill with that special look. She saw the bulge of his manhood, though she'd had no intention of looking there, and felt herself reddening.

"Excuse me, Ayla. I don't want to disturb you, but I felt I should show you this new restrainer I worked out for Racer. You might want to use one like it for Whinney," Jondalar said, keeping his voice normal and wishing he could control the rest of himself.

"You are not disturbing me," Ayla said, although he was. She looked at the device made of thin strips of leather, braided and looped around each other.

The mare had come into heat earlier in the season. Soon after Ayla noticed Whinney's condition, she heard the distinctive neigh of a stallion on the steppes. Though Ayla had found her after the mare had gone to live with a stallion and herd before, she couldn't face the thought of giving up Whinney to a stallion. She might not get her friend back this time. Ayla had used a halterlike contrivance and a rope around the neck to restrain the mare – and the young stallion who had exhibited great interest and excitement – and kept them inside the annex if she couldn't be with them. Since then, she continued to use a halter occasionally, though she preferred to allow Whinney the freedom to come and go as she wished.

"How does it work?" Ayla asked.

He demonstrated on Whinney with an extra one he had made for her. Ayla asked several questions in a seemingly dispassionate tone, but she was hardly paying attention. She was far more aware of Jondalar's warmth when she stood beside him, and of his faint, pleasantly masculine smell. She seemed unable to keep from staring, at his hands, at the play of muscles across his chest, and at the bump of his manhood. She hoped her questions would lead to further conversation, but as soon as he finished explaining the device, he left abruptly. Ayla watched him grab up his shirt, mount Racer and, guiding him with leads to the new bridle, ride up the slope. She considered, for a moment, going after him on Whinney, then changed her mind. If he was so anxious to get away from her, it must mean he didn't want her around.

Ayla stared after Jondalar until he was out of sight. Wolf, eagerly yipping at her, finally brought her attention back. She wrapped her sling around her head, and checked the stones in the pouch, then picked up the pup and put him on Whinney's withers. Then she mounted and started up the slope in a different direction from the one Jondalar had taken. She had planned to go hunting with Wolf, and she might as well do it. Wolf had begun to stalk and try to catch mice and small game on his own, and she had discovered that he was very good at flushing game for her sling. Though it was accidental at first, the wolf was quick to learn, and was already becoming trained to flush them at her command.

Ayla was right in one respect. Jondalar left in such a hurry not because he didn't want to be around her just then – but only because he did want to be around her all the time. He needed to get away from his own reactions to Ayla's nearness. She was Promised to Ranec now, and he had lost any claim he might have had on her. Lately, he had started riding when he wanted to get away from a difficult situation, or from the strain of fighting conflicting emotions, or just to think. He began to understand why Ayla so often had ridden off on Whinney when something was troubling her. Riding across the open grasslands astride the stallion, feeling the wind in his face, had both an exhilarating and calming effect.

Once up on the steppes, he signaled Racer to a gallop, and leaned closer to the strong neck stretching forward. It had been surprisingly easy to accustom the horse to accepting a rider, but in many ways both Ayla and Jondalar had been getting him used to it for some time. It was harder to decide how to make Racer understand and want to go where his rider wanted to go.

Jondalar understood that Ayla's control of Whinney had worked itself out in such a natural way that her directions were still largely unconscious, but he started with the idea of training the horse. His directions were much more purposeful, and as he was training the horse, he was teaching himself as well. He learned how to sit on the horse, how to work with the stallion's powerful muscles, not just bounce on his back, and he discovered that the animal's sensitivity to thigh pressure and shifts in body position made guiding him easier.

As he gained more confidence and became more comfortable, he rode more, which was exactly the kind of practice that was needed, but the more he associated with Racer, the more affection he felt for him, also. He had been fond of him from the beginning, but he was still Ayla's horse. He kept telling himself he was training Racer for her, but he hated thinking about leaving the young stallion behind.

Jondalar had planned to leave immediately after the Spring Festival, yet he was still there and he wasn't sure why. He thought of reasons – it was still too early in the unpredictable season, he had promised Ayla he would train Racer – but he knew they were just excuses. Talut thought he was staying to go to the Summer Meeting with them, and Jondalar didn't try to correct his impression, though he kept telling himself he would be gone before they left. Every night when he went to bed, and particularly if Ayla went to the Fox Hearth, he told himself he was leaving the next day, and every day he put it off. He struggled with himself, but when he seriously thought of packing up and going, he remembered her lying cold and still on the floor of the Mammoth Hearth, and he couldn't leave.

Mamut had spoken to him the day after the Festival, and told him the root had been too powerful for him to control. It was too dangerous, the shaman said, he would never use it again. He had advised Ayla not to use it either, and cautioned her that she would need strong protection if she ever did. Without actually saying so, the old man implied that somehow Jondalar had reached out to Ayla and was responsible for bringing her back.

The shaman's words disturbed Jondalar, but he derived a strange sort of comfort from them, too. When the man of the Mammoth Hearth had feared for Ayla's safety, why had he asked him to stay? And why did Mamut say it was he who brought her back? She was Promised to Ranec, and there was no doubt of the carver's feeling for her. If Ranec was there, why did Mamut want him? Why didn't Ranec bring her back? What did the old man know? Whatever it was, Jondalar could not bear the thought of not being there if she needed him again, or of letting her face some terrible danger without him, but neither could he bear the thought of her living with another man. He couldn't decide whether to go or stay.

"Wolf! Put that down!" Rugie cried, angry and upset. She and Rydag were playing at the Mammoth Hearth where Nezzie had told them to go so she could pack. "Ayla! Wolf has my doll and won't put her down."

Ayla was sitting on the middle of her bed surrounded by neat piles of her things. "Wolf! Drop it!" she commanded. "Come here," she signaled.

Wolf dropped the doll, which was made of scraps of leather, and slunk with his tail between his legs to Ayla. "Up here," she said, patting the place at the head of her bed where he usually slept. The wolf pup jumped up. "Now, lie down, and don't bother Rugie and Rydag any more." He lay down with his head on his paws, staring up at her with woeful, penitent eyes.

Ayla went back to sorting through her things, but soon stopped and watched the two children playing together on the floor of the Mammoth Hearth, not meaning to stare, but intrigued. They were playing "hearths," making believe they were sharing a hearth the way grown-up women and men did. Their "child" was the leather doll, fashioned into a human shape with a round head, a body, arms and legs, wrapped in a soft skin blanket. It was the doll that fascinated Ayla. She never had a doll; people of the Clan did not make images of any kind, drawn, sculpted, or fashioned out of leather, but it reminded her of a wounded rabbit she once brought back to the cave for Iza to heal. She had cuddled and rocked the rabbit the same way Rugie held and played with the doll.

Ayla knew it was usually Rugie who initiated the games. Sometimes they played that they were joined, other times that they were "leaders," a brother and sister in charge of their own camp. Ayla watched the little blond girl and the brown-haired boy, suddenly conscious of his Clan features. Rugie thinks of him as her brother, Ayla thought, but she doubted that they would ever be co-leaders of a Camp.

Rugie gave the doll to Rydag to tend, then got up and walked away on some imagined errand. Rydag watched her go, then put the doll down, and looked up at Ayla and smiled. The boy wasn't as interested in the imaginary baby after Rugie failed to return in a short time. He preferred real babies, though he didn't mind going along with Rugie's play when she was there. After a while, Rydag got up and left, too. Rugie had forgotten the game, and the doll for a while, and Rydag went to find her, or to find something else to do.

Ayla went back to making her decisions about what to take along to the Summer Meeting. In the last year, it seemed, she had sorted through her things too many times, making decisions about what to take and what to leave. This time she was packing to travel, and would only take what she could carry. Tulie had already spoken to her about using the horses and travois to bring gifts; it would increase both her status and that of the Lion Camp. She picked up the hide she had dyed red and shook it out, trying to decide if she would need it. She had never been able to make up her mind what to make out of the red hide. She didn't know what she could use it for now, but red was sacred to the Clan, and besides, she liked it. She folded it up and put it with the few other things she wanted to take besides essentials: the carved horse she loved so much, which Ranec had given to her at her adoption, and the new muta; the beautiful flint point from Wymez; some jewelry, beads and necklaces; her outfit from Deegie, the white tunic she had made, and Durc's cloak.

Her mind wandered while she went through a few more items, and she found herself thinking about Rydag. Would he ever really have a mate, like Durc? She didn't think there would be any girls like him at the Summer Meeting. She wasn't sure he would even reach adulthood, she realized. It made her grateful that her son had been strong and healthy, and that he would have a mate. Broud's clan would be getting ready to go to the Clan Gathering about now, if they hadn't already left. Ura would be expecting to go back with them to mate with Durc eventually, and probably dreading the thought of leaving her own clan. Poor Ura, it would be hard for her to leave the people she knew to go live in a strange place with a strange clan. A thought crossed Ayla's mind that had not occurred to her before. Would she like Durc? Would he like her? She hoped so, because it wasn't likely they would have any other choice.

Thinking about her son, Ayla reached for a pouch she had brought back from the valley, opened it and dumped out its contents. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the ivory carving. She picked it up. It was of a woman, but not like any of the female carvings she had ever seen, and she realized now how unusual it was. Most muta, except for Ranec's symbolic bird-women, were full, round motherly shapes with only a knob, sometimes decorated, for a head. They were all meant to symbolize the Mother, but this was a carving of a slender woman, with the hair done in many small braids, the way she used to wear hers. Most surprising, it had a carefully carved face, with a fine nose and chin, and a suggestion of eyes.

She held the carving in her hand, and it blurred in front of her eyes as all the memories came back. Without knowing it, tears were streaming down her face. Jondalar had carved it, in the valley. When he made it, he said he wanted to capture her spirit so they would never be apart. That was why he made it to resemble her, even though no one was supposed to make an image in the likeness of an actual person, for fear of trapping the spirit. He said he wanted her to have the carving, so no one could use it for malicious purposes against her. It was her first muta, she realized. He gave it to her after her First Rites, when he had made her a real woman.

She would never forget that summer in her valley, just the two of them, together. But Jondalar was going to leave without her. She clutched the ivory figure to her chest and wished she was going with him. Wolf was whimpering at her in sympathy, inching forward because he knew he was supposed to stay where he was. She reached for him, and buried her face in his fur, while he tried to lick away her salty tears.

She heard someone coming down the passageway, and sat up quickly, wiped her face, and struggled to contain herself. She turned around as though she was looking for something behind her when Barzec and Druwez walked past, involved in their own conversation. Then she put the carving back in the pouch and carefully put it on top of the bright red leather hide she had dyed, to take with her. She could never leave her first muta behind.

Later that evening, when the Lion Camp was getting ready to share a meal, Wolf suddenly growled menacingly, and raced toward the front entrance. Ayla jumped up and ran after him, wondering what could be wrong. Several others followed her. When she pushed open the drape, she was surprised to see a stranger, a very frightened stranger, backing away from a nearly grown wolf who looked ready to attack.

"Wolf! Come!" Ayla ordered. The wolf pup retreated reluctantly, but he still faced the strange man with bared teeth and a growl low in his throat.

"Ludeg!" Talut said, stepping forward with a big smile and a great bear hug. "Come in. Come inside. It's cold."

"I… ah… don't know," the man said, eying the young wolf. "Are there any more inside like that?"

"No. No others," Ayla said. "Wolf will not hurt you. I will not let him."

Ludeg looked at Talut, not knowing whether to believe the unfamiliar woman. "Why do you have a wolf in your lodge?"

"It is a long story, but one better told by a warm fire. Come in, Ludeg. The young wolf will not harm you. I promise," Talut said, casting a meaningful glance at Ayla, as he guided the young man through the archway.

Ayla knew exactly what his look meant. Wolf had better not hurt this stranger. She followed them in, signaling the young animal to stay beside her, but she didn't know how to tell him to stop growling. This was a new situation. She knew that wolves, though very affectionate and attached to their own packs, were known to attack and kill strangers who invaded their territory. Wolf's behavior was perfectly understandable, but that didn't make it acceptable. He would have to get used to strangers, whether he liked it or not.

Nezzie greeted the son of her cousin warmly, took his haversack and his parka, and gave them to Danug to take to a spare bed platform at the Mammoth Hearth, then filled a plate and found a place for him to sit. Ludeg kept glancing toward the wolf warily, filled with nervous apprehension, and every time Wolf saw his look, the menacing rumble in his throat intensified. When Ayla shushed him, he flattened his ears back and crouched down, but the next moment he was growling at the stranger again. She thought about restraining Wolf with a rope around his neck, but she didn't think that would solve anything. It would only make the defensive animal more anxious, and in turn put the man more on edge.

Rydag had been hanging back, shy around the visitor, even though he knew him, but he was quick to see the problem. He sensed that the man's tense wariness was contributing to the problem. Maybe if he saw that the wolf was friendly, Ludeg would relax. Most people were crowded into the cooking hearth, and when Rydag heard Hartal wake up, he got an idea. He went to the Reindeer Hearth and comforted the toddler, then took his hand and walked him toward the cooking hearth, but not to his mother. Instead he headed toward Ayla and Wolf.

Hartal had lately developed a strong attraction for the frisky pup, and the moment he saw the furry gray creature, he chortled with glee. With delight, Hartal ran toward the wolf, but his baby steps were unsteady. He stumbled and fell on him. Wolf yelped, but his only reaction was to lick the baby's face, which caused Hartal to giggle. He pushed the warm, wet tongue away, putting his pudgy little hands into the long jaws full of sharp teeth, then grabbed fistfuls of furry coat and tried to pull Wolf toward him.

Forgetting his nervousness, Ludeg stared with round-eyed surprise at the toddler manhandling the wolf, but more, at the fierce carnivore's patient, gentle acceptance. Nor could Wolf keep up his defensive watchfulness of the stranger under the assault, and he was not full grown and not quite capable of the sustained persistence of adult members of his species. Ayla smiled at Rydag, knowing immediately that he had brought Hartal for exactly the purpose that had been achieved. When Tronie came and got her son, Ayla picked up Wolf, deciding the time was right to introduce him to the stranger.

"I think Wolf will get used to you faster if you let him learn your scent," she said to the young man.

Ayla spoke the language perfectly, but Ludeg noticed a difference in the way she said some of her words. He looked at her carefully for the first time, wondering who she was. He knew she had not been with the Lion Camp when they left last year. In fact, he didn't recall ever seeing her before, and he was certain he would have remembered such a beautiful woman. Where had she come from? He looked up and noticed a tall, blond stranger watching him.

"What do I need to do?" he asked.

"I think if you just let him smell your hand, it would help. He likes to be petted, too, but I would not try to rush it. He needs a little time to get to know you," Ayla said.

Rather tentatively, Ludeg reached out his hand. Ayla put Wolf down to let him sniff at it, but stayed protectively close. She didn't think Wolf would attack, but she wasn't sure. After a time, the man reached out to touch the thick, shedding fur. He had never touched a living wolf before, and it was rather exciting. He smiled at Ayla, and thought again how beautiful she was when she smiled back.

"Talut, I think I'd better tell my news quickly," Ludeg said. "I think the Lion Camp has stories I'd like to hear."

The big headman smiled. This was the kind of interest he welcomed. Runners usually came with news to tell, and were chosen as much because they liked to tell a good story as for their ability to run fast.

"Tell us, then. What news do you bring?" Talut asked.

"Most important is the change of gathering place for the Summer Meeting. The Wolf Camp is hosting. The Meeting place that was chosen last year was washed out. I have other news, sad news. I stopped off at a Sungaea Camp for a night. There is sickness, killing sickness. Some have died, and when I left, the son and daughter of the headwoman were very sick. There was some doubt if they would live."

"Oh that's terrible!" Nezzie said.

"What kind of sickness do they have?" Ayla asked.

"It seems to be in the chest. High fever, deep cough, and hard to breathe."

"How far is this place?" Ayla asked.

"Don't you know?"

"Ayla was a visitor, but she has been adopted," Tulie said. Then she turned to Ayla. "It is not too far."

"Can we go there, Tulie? Or can someone take me there? If those children are sick, maybe I can help."

"I don't know. What do you think, Talut?"

"It's out of the way if the Summer Meeting is going to be held at Wolf Camp, and they are not even related, Tulie."

"I think Darnev had distant kin at that Camp," Tulie said. "And it is a shame for a young brother and sister to be so sick."

"Perhaps we should go, but we should leave, then, as soon as we can," Talut said.

Ludeg had been listening with great interest. "Well, now that I've told you my news, I'd like to know about the Lion Camp's new member, Talut. Is she really a Healer? And where did the wolf come from? I never heard of having a wolf in a lodge."

"And that's not all," Frebec said. "Ayla has two horses, a mare and a young stallion, too."

The visitor looked at Frebec in disbelief, then settled back and prepared to listen to the stories the Lion Camp had to tell.

In the morning, after a long night of storytelling, Ludeg was given an example of Ayla's and Jondalar's horse-riding skills, and was suitably impressed. He left for the next Camp ready to spread the word of the new Mamutoi woman, along with his news of the changed location of the Summer Meeting. The Lion Camp planned to leave the next morning, and the balance of the day was spent in last-minute preparations.

Ayla decided to take more medicines than she usually carried in her medicine bag, and was going through her supply of herbs, talking with Mamut while he packed. The Clan Gathering was much on her mind, and watching the old shaman favor his stiff joints, she recalled that the old people of the Clan, unable to make the long trek, had been left behind. How was Mamut going to manage a long trip? It bothered her enough to go outside and look for Talut, to ask.

"I carry him most of the way, on my back," Talut explained.

She noticed Nezzie adding a bundle to the pile of things that would be hauled on the travois by the horses. Rydag was sitting on the ground nearby looking disconsolate. Suddenly Ayla went looking for Jondalar. She found him arranging the traveling pack Tulie had given him.

"Jondalar! There you are," she said.

He looked up, startled. She was the last person he expected to see at that moment. He had just been thinking about her, and how to say goodbye to her. He had decided this was the time, when everyone was leaving the lodge, for him to leave, too. But instead of going with the Lion Camp to the Summer Meeting, he would go the other way and begin his long trek home.

"Do you know how Mamut gets to the Summer Meeting?" Ayla asked.

The question took him entirely by surprise. It was not the most pressing thing on his mind. He wasn't even sure what she was talking about. "Uh… no," he said.

"Talut has to carry him, on his back. And then there's Rydag. He has to be carried, too. I was thinking, Jondalar, you've been training Racer, he's used to carrying someone on his back now, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And you can control him, he will go where you want him to, won't he?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Good! Then there's no reason Mamut and Rydag can't ride to the Meeting on the horses. They can't guide them, but you and I can lead them. It would be so much easier on everyone, and Rydag has been so unhappy lately, it might raise his spirits. Remember how excited he was the first time he rode on Whinney? You don't mind, do you, Jondalar? We don't need to ride, everyone else is walking," Ayla said.

She was so pleased and excited about the idea it was obvious she hadn't even considered that he might not be going with them. How could he refuse her? he thought. It was a good idea, and the Lion Camp had done so much for him, it seemed the least he could do.

"No. I don't mind walking," Jondalar said. He felt a strange sense of lightness as he watched Ayla go to tell Talut, as though a terrible weight had been lifted. He hurried to finish packing, then picking up his gear, went to join the rest of the Camp. Ayla was supervising the loading of the two travois. They were nearly ready to go.

Nezzie saw him coming and smiled at him. "I'm glad you decided to come with us and help Ayla with the horses. Mamut is going to be much more comfortable, I think, and look at Rydag! I haven't seen him this excited about going to a Summer Meeting ever."

Why did he have the feeling, Jondalar wondered, that Nezzie knew he had been thinking of going home?

"And think what an impression it will make when we arrive not only with horses, but with people riding on them," Barzec said.

"Jondalar, we were waiting for you. Ayla wasn't sure who should ride on which horse," Talut said.

"I don't think it makes any difference," Jondalar said. "Whinney is a little easier to ride. She doesn't bounce you as hard."

He noticed that Ranec was helping Ayla balance the loads. He cringed inwardly when he saw them laughing together, and realized how temporary his reprieve was. He had only put off the inevitable, but he was committed now. After Mamut made mysterious gestures and spoke esoteric words, he stuck a muta in the ground at the front entrance to guard the lodge, and then with help from Ayla and Talut, mounted Whinney. He seemed nervous, but it was hard to tell. Jondalar thought he was hiding it well.

Rydag was not nervous, though, he had been on the back of a horse before. He was just excited when the tall man picked him up and put him on Racer's back. He had never ridden the stallion. He grinned at Latie, who was watching him, with a mixture of concern for his safety, delight at his new experience, and just a bit of envy. She had observed Jondalar training the horse, as much as she could from a distance, since it was hard to convince another woman to go with her just to stand around and watch – there were drawbacks to adulthood. She decided training a young horse wasn't necessarily magical. It just took patience, and of course, a horse to train.

A last check was made of the Camp, and then they started up the slope. Halfway up, Ayla stopped. Wolf did too, watching her expectantly. She looked back at the earthlodge where she had found a home and acceptance among her own kind. She missed its snug security already, but it would be there when they returned, ready to shelter them again through a long cold winter. Wind riffled the drape across the archway of mammoth tusks at the entrance, and she could see the skull of the cave lion above it. The Lion Camp seemed lonely without people. Ayla of the Mamutoi shivered with a sudden uneasy pang of sadness.