Mammoth Hunters (85 page)

“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.

The great grasslands, bountiful source of life in that cold land, displayed yet another face of the renewing cycle as the Lion Camp traveled. The bluish-violet and yellow flowers of the last dwarf iris were fading but still colorful, and fernleaf peonies were in full bloom. A broad bed of the dark red blossoms filling the entire depression between two hills caused exclamations of wonder and appreciation from the travelers. But it was the young bluegrass and ripening fescue and feather grasses that predominated, turning the steppes into waves of softly billowing silver accented by shadows of blue sage. Not until later, after the young grass grew ripe and the feather grass lost its plumes, would the rich plains change from silver to golden.

The young wolf took delight in discovering the multitude of small animals that lived and thrived on the vast prairie. He dashed after polecats and stoats—ermine in summer-brown coats—and backed off when the dauntless predators held their ground. When mice, voles, and velvety-furred shrews, who were used to evading foxes, scurried into holes burrowed just below the surface, Wolf chased gerbils, hamsters, and long-eared, prickly hedgehogs. Ayla laughed at his look of startled surprise when a thick-tailed jerboa, with short forelegs, and three toes on its long hind legs, bounded away in jumps and dived into the burrow in which it had hibernated all winter. Hares, giant hamsters, and great jerboas were large enough for a meal, and tasty when skinned and skewered over an evening fire. Ayla’s sling brought down several that Wolf flushed.

The digging steppe rodents were beneficial, loosening and turning over the topsoil, but some changed the character of the land with their extensive burrowing. As the Lion Camp hiked overland, the ubiquitous holes of spotted susliks were
too numerous to count, and in some areas they had to wend their way around hundreds of grass-covered mounds, two to three feet high, each a community of steppe marmots.