The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

“I’m ready,” Tornec announced as he arrived with his mammoth bone instrument.

“Good. You can start as soon as Ayla starts handing out the stones,” Mamut said. “Where’s Talut?”

“He’s been pouring his brew,” Tornec said, smiling, “and he’s being very generous. He said he wants this to be a suitable celebration.”

“And it will be, too!” the big headman said. “Here Ayla, I brought you a cup. After all, you are the reason for this occasion!”

Ayla tasted the drink, still finding the fermented flavor not entirely to her taste, but all the rest of the Mamutoi seemed to enjoy it. She decided she would learn to enjoy it, too. She wanted to be one of them, to do what they did, to like what they liked. She drank it down. Talut filled her cup again.

“Talut will tell you when to start giving out the stones, Ayla. Strike each one and get a spark just before you give it,” Mamut instructed. She nodded, looked at the cup in her hand, then drank the contents, shaking her head at the potent beverage, and put the cup down to pick up the stones.

“Ayla is now counted among the Lion Camp,” Talut said, as soon as everyone settled down, “but she has one more gift. For each hearth, a stone to make fire. Nezzie is the keeper of the Lion Hearth. Ayla will give the firestone to her to keep.”

As Ayla walked toward Nezzie, she struck the iron pyrite with flint, drawing a bright spark, then she gave her the stone.

“Who is the keeper of the Fox Hearth?” Talut continued as Deegie and Tornec began beating on the bone instruments.

“I am. Ranec is the keeper of the Fox Hearth.”

Ayla brought him a stone, and struck it. But when she gave it to him, he whispered, in a low, warm voice, “The fox furs are softer and more beautiful than any I have ever seen. I will keep them on my bed and think of you every night when I feel their softness against my bare skin.” He touched her face, only lightly, with the back of his hand, but she felt it as a physical shock.

She backed away, confused, as Talut asked for the keeper of the Reindeer Hearth, and had to strike the stone twice to get a spark for Tronie. Fralie took the stone for the Crane Hearth, and by the time Tulie took hers, and she gave one to Mamut, for the Mammoth Hearth, Ayla was feeling dizzy, and more than willing to sit down near the fire where Mamut indicated.

The drums began to have their effect. The sound was soothing and compelling at the same time. The lodge was darkened—a small fire diffused through the screen was the only light. She could hear breathing, close by, and looked to see where it was coming from. Crouched, near the fire, was a man—or was it a lion? The breathing became a low growl, almost, but not quite—to her perceptive ear—like the warning growl of a cave lion. The vocalized drumming picked up the sound, giving it resonance and depth.

Suddenly, with a savage snarl, the lion figure leaped, and the silhouette of a lion moved across the screen. But it almost jerked to a stop in a startled response to Ayla’s unintentional reaction. She challenged the shadow lion with a growl so realistic and so menacing it brought a gasp from most of the people watching. The silhouette recovered its lion stance and answered with the soothing growl of a lion backing down. Ayla voiced an angry snarl of victory, then began a series of “hnk, hnk, hnk” grunts that faded as though the lion were walking away.

Mamut smiled to himself. Her lion is so perfect it would fool a lion, he thought, pleased that she had spontaneously joined him. Ayla didn’t know why she did, herself, except that after her first impromptu challenge, it was fun to talk like a lion with Mamut. She hadn’t done anything like it since Baby left her valley. The drums had picked up and enhanced the scene, but now were following the silhouette moving sinuously across the screen. She was close enough to see that it was Mamut creating the action, but even she became caught up in the effect. She wondered, though, how the normally stiff and arthritic old man could move with such ease. Then she remembered seeing him gulp something down earlier, and suspected it might have been a strong painkiller. He would probably suffer for this the next day.

Suddenly Mamut leaped out from behind the screen and squatted by his mammoth skull drum. He beat on it rapidly for a short time, then stopped suddenly. He picked up a cup Ayla hadn’t noticed before, drank from it, then approaching her, offered it. Without even thinking about it, she took a small sip, and then another, though the taste was strong, musky, and unpleasant. Encouraged by the talking drums, she soon began to feel the effects.

The leaping flames behind the screen gave the animals painted on it a feeling of movement. She was entranced by them, concentrated her entire attention on them, and heard only in the distance the voices of the Camp beginning to chant. A baby cried, but it seemed to come from some other world as she was drawn along by the strange flickering motion of the animals on the screen. They seemed almost alive, as the drum music filled her with pounding hooves, bawling calves, trumpeting mammoths.

Then, it was dark no longer. Instead, a hazy sun overlooked a snowy plain. A small herd of musk-oxen was huddled together, a blizzard swirling around them. As she swooped low, she sensed she was not alone. Mamut was with her. The scene shifted. The storm was over, but wind-driven whirling snow-devils wailed across the steppes like ghostly apparitions. She and Mamut moved away from the desolate emptiness. Then, she noticed a few bison standing stoically on the lee side of a narrow valley, trying to stay out of the wind. She was racing ahead, darting along the river valley that cut deep ravines. They followed a tributary that narrowed into a steep-walled canyon ahead, and she saw the familiar side path up the dry bed of a seasonal stream.

And then she was in a dark place looking down at a small fire and people huddled around a screen. She heard a slow chant, a continuous repetition of sound. When she flickered her eyelids and saw blurred faces, she saw Nezzie and Talut and Jondalar looking down at her with worried expressions.

“Are you all right?” Jondalar asked, speaking Zelandonii. “Yes, yes. I’m all right, Jondalar. What happened? Where was I?”

“You’ll have to tell me.”

“How do you feel?” Nezzie asked. “Mamut always likes this tea, afterward.”

“I am fine,” she said, sitting up and taking the cup. She did feel fine. A little tired, and a little dizzy, but not bad.

“I don’t think it was as frightening for you this time, Ayla,” Mamut said, coming toward her.

Ayla smiled. “No, I am not frightened, but what we do?”

“We Searched. I thought you were a Searcher. That’s why you are a daughter of the Mammoth Hearth,” he said. “You have other natural Talents, Ayla, but you need training.” He saw her frown. “Don’t worry about it now. There is time to think about it later.”

Talut poured out more of his brew for Ayla and several others while Mamut told them about the Search, where they went, what they found. She gulped it down—it didn’t seem so bad that way?

?then tried to listen, but it seemed to go to her head quickly. Her mind wandered and she noticed that Deegie and Tornec were still playing their instruments, but with tones so rhythmic and appealing it made her want to move with them. It reminded her of the Women’s Dance of the Clan, and she found it hard to concentrate on Mamut.

She felt someone watching her, and glanced around. Near the Fox Hearth she saw Ranec staring at her. He smiled and she smiled back. Suddenly Talut was filling her cup again. Ranec came forward and offered his cup for filling; Talut complied, then turned back to the discussion.

“You’re not interested in this, are you? Let’s go over there, where Deegie and Tornec are playing,” Ranec said in a low voice, leaning close to her ear.