The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

“You will teach me?” Ayla said, looking up and smiling. She noticed a gleam of avarice in the old eyes, but something else, too. Something more distant, and softer. “I will make medicine for arthritis,” she said, “like Mamut.”

“Who says I need it?” Crozie snapped. “I’m not nearly as old as he is.”

“No, you are not so old, Crozie, but you have pain. You do not say you have pain, you make other complaint, but I know, because I am medicine woman. Medicine cannot cure aching bones and joints, nothing can make it go away, but can make you feel better. Hot poultice will make easier to move and bend, and I will make medicine for pain, some for morning, some for other times,” Ayla said. Then sensing the woman needed some way to save face, she added, “I need to make medicine for you, to pay my bet. It is my skill.”

“Well, I guess I should let you pay your bet,” Crozie said, “but I want one more thing.”

“What? I will do, if I can.”

“I want more of that soft white tallow that makes dry old skin feel smooth … and young,” she said, quietly. Then she straightened up and snapped, “My skin always did get chapped in winter.”

Ayla smiled. “I will do. Now, you tell me what is best hide for white leather, and I will ask Nezzie what is in cold rooms.”

“Deerskin. Reindeer is good, though it is best to use it as a fur, for warmth. Any deer will do, red deer, elk, megaceros. Before you get the hide, though, you will need something else.”

“What is that?”

“You will need to save your water.”

“My water?”

“The water you pass. Not only yours, anyone’s, though your own is best. Start collecting it now, even before you thaw out a deerskin. It must be left out where it’s warm for a while,” Crozie said.

“I usually pass water behind the curtain, in the basket with mammoth dung and ashes in it. It is thrown out.”

“Don’t go in the basket. Save it, in a mammoth skull basin, or a tight basket. Something that won’t leak.”

“Why is that water needed?”

Crozie paused and appraised the young woman before she answered. “I’m not getting any younger,” she said, finally, “and I have no one, except Fralie … any more. Usually a woman passes her skills on to her children and grandchildren but Fralie has no time, and not much interest in working leather—she likes stitching and beadwork—and she has no daughters. Her sons … well, they’re young. Who knows? But my mother gave me the knowledge, and I should pass it on … to someone. It’s hard work, treating hides, but I’ve seen your leatherwork. Even the furs and skins you brought show skill, care, and that is necessary to make white leather. I haven’t even thought of making it for many years, and no one else has shown much interest, but you asked. So I will tell you.”

The woman bent forward and clutched Ayla’s hand. “The secret of white leather is in the water you pass. That may seem strange to you, but it is true. After it is left in a warm place for a while, it changes. Then, if you soak hides in it, all the bits of fat that might be left come out, and any grease stains. The hair will come out more quickly, it won’t rot easily, and it stays soft even without smoking, so it won’t be tan or brown. In fact, it whitens the hide, still not true white, but close. Afterward, when it is washed and wrung out several times, and worked dry, it is ready for the white color.”

If someone had asked her, Crozie could not have explained that urea, which was the major component of urine, would decompose, become ammoniacal, in a warm environment. She only knew that if urine was allowed to go stale, it became something else. Something that would both dissolve grease and act as a bleach, and in the same process

, help to preserve the leather from bacterial decay. She didn’t have to know why, or call it ammonia, she only had to know that it worked.

“Chalk … do we have any chalk?” Crozie asked.

“Wymez does. He said the flint he just brought back came from a chalk cliff, and he still has several stones coated with it,” Ayla said.

“Why did you ask Wymez about chalk? How did you know I would agree to show you?” Crozie asked suspiciously.

“I did not. I have been wanting to make a white tunic for a long time. If you did not show me, I would try myself, but I did not know about saving the water, and I would not have thought of it. I am happy you will show me to do it right,” Ayla said.

“Hmmf,” was Crozie’s only comment, convinced, but not wanting to admit it. “Be sure you make that soft white tallow.” Then she added, “And, make some for the leather, too. I think it would be good to mix with the chalk.”

Ayla held the drape aside and looked out. The late afternoon wind moaned and keened a dreary dirge, a fitting accompaniment to the drab, bleak landscape and the gray, overcast sky. She longed for some relief from the confining bitter cold, but the oppressive season seemed as though it would never come to an end. Whinney snorted and she turned around to see Mamut coming into the horse hearth. She smiled at him.

Ayla had felt a deep respect for the old shaman from the beginning, but since he had begun training her, her respect had grown into love. Partly, she perceived a strong similarity between the tall, thin, incredibly old shaman, and the short, crippled, one-eyed magician of the Clan, not in appearance but in nature. It was almost as though she had found Creb again, or at least his counterpart. Both exhibited a deep reverence and understanding for the world of the spirits, though the spirits they revered had different names; both could command awesome powers, though each was physically frail; and both were wise in the ways of people. But perhaps the strongest reason for her love was that, like Creb, Mamut had welcomed her, helped her to understand, and taken her in as a daughter of his hearth.

“I was looking for you, Ayla. I thought you might be here, with your horses,” Mamut said.

“I was looking outside, wishing it was spring,” Ayla said.

“This is the time most people start wishing for a change, for something new to do or see. They are getting bored, sleeping more. I think that’s why we have more feasts and celebrations in the last part of winter. The Laughing Contest will be coming soon. Most people enjoy that one.”

“What is the Laughing Contest?”