The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

“Just what it sounds like. Everyone tries to make everyone else laugh. Some people wear funny clothes, or wear their clothes backward, make funny faces at each other, act funny, make jokes about each other, play tricks on each other. And if anyone gets angry about it, they get laughed at all the more. Almost everyone looks forward to it, but no celebration is as eagerly anticipated as the Spring Festival. In fact, that’s why I was looking for you,” Mamut said. “There are still many things you should learn before then.”

“Why is the Spring Festival so special?” Ayla wasn’t sure she was anticipating it.

“For many reasons, I suppose. It is both our most solemn and our happiest celebration. It marks the end of the long deep cold, and the beginning of warmth. It is said that if you watch the cycle of seasons one year, you will understand life. Most people count three seasons. Spring is the season of birth. In the gush of Her birth waters, the spring floods, the Great Earth Mother brings forth new life again. Summer, the warm season, is the time of growth and increase. Winter is the ‘little death.’ In spring, life is renewed again, reborn. Three seasons are enough for most purposes, but the Mammoth Hearth counts five. The Mother’s sacred number is five.”

In spite of her initial reservations, Ayla found herself fascinated by the training Mamut had insisted upon. She was learning so much: new ideas, new thoughts, even new ways of thinking. It was exciting to discover and think about so many new things, to be included instead of excluded. Knowledge of spirits, knowledge of numbers, even knowledge of hunting, had been kept from her when she had lived with the Clan; it was reserved for the men. Only mog-urs and their acolytes studied them in depth, and no woman could become a mog-ur. Women were not even admitted to discussions about such concepts as spirits or numbers. Hunting had been taboo for her, too, but they didn’t bar women from listening; they had just assumed no woman could learn.

“I would like to go over the songs and chants we have been practicing, and I want to begin showing you something special. Symbols. I think you will find them interesting. Some are about medicine.”

“Medicine symbols?” Ayla asked. Of course she was interested. They walked into the Mammoth Hearth together.

“Are you going to do anything with the white leather?” Mamut asked, putting mats by the fire near his bed. “Or are you going to save it, like the red?”

“I don’t know about the red yet, but I want to make a special tunic with the white. I am learning to sew, but I feel very clumsy. It turned out so perfect, I don’t want to spoil the white until I get better. Deegie is showing me, and Fralie, sometimes, when Frebec doesn’t make it difficult for her.”

Ayla slivered some bone and added it to the flames while Mamut brought out a rather thin oval section of ivory with a large curved surface. The oval outline had been etched into a mammoth tusk with a stone chisel, then repeated until it was a deep groove. A sharp blow accurately placed at one end detached the flake of ivory. Mamut picked out a piece of bone charcoal from the fire as Ayla got a mammoth skull and a hammer-shaped drumstick made of antler and sat down beside him.

“Before we practice with the drum, I want to show you certain symbols that we use to help us memorize things, like songs, stories, proverbs, places, times, names, anything that someone wants to remember,” Mamut began. “You have been teaching us hand signals and signs, and I know you’ve noticed that we use certain gestures, too, though not as many as the Clan. We wave goodbye and beckon to someone if we want him to come, and it is understood. We use other hand symbols, particularly when we are describing something, or telling a story, or when One Who Serves is conducting a ceremony. Here is one that will be easy. It is similar to a Clan symbol.”

Mamut made a circular motion with his hand, palm facing outward. “That means ‘all,’ everyone, everything,” he explained, then picked up the charcoal. “Now, I can make the same motion with this piece of charcoal on the ivory, see?” he said, drawing a circle. “Now that symbol means ‘all’ and any time you see it, even if it is drawn by another Mamut, you will know it means ‘all.’ ”

The old shaman enjoyed teaching Ayla. She was bright and quick to learn, but even more, her pleasure at learning was so transparent. Her face showed her feelings as he explained, her curiosity and interest, and her sheer wonder when she comprehended.

“I never would have thought of that! Can anyone learn this knowledge?” she asked.

“Some knowledge is sacred, and only those pledged to the Mammoth Hearth may be told, but most things can be learned by anyone who shows an interest. It often turns out that those who show great interest eventually dedicate themselves to the Mammoth Hearth. The sacred knowledge is often hidden behind a second meaning, or even a third meaning. Most people know this”—he drew another circle on the ivory—“means ‘all,’ but it has another meaning. There are many symbols for the Great Mother, this is one of them. It means Mut, the Creator of All Life. Many other lines and shapes have meaning,” he continued. “This means ‘water,’ ” he said, drawing a zigzag line.

“That was on the map, when we hunted the bison,” she said. “I think it meant river.”

“Yes, it can mean river. How it is drawn, or where it is drawn, or what it is drawn with can change the meaning. If it is like this,” he said, making another zigzag with some additional lines, “it means the water is not drinkable. And like the circle, it has a second meaning. It is the symbol for feelings, passions, for love, and sometimes for hate. It c

an also be a reminder for a saying we have: the river runs silent when the water is deep.”

Ayla frowned, sensing some meaning for her in the saying.

“Most Healers give the symbols meanings to help them remember, like reminders for sayings, except the sayings are about medicine or healing, and are not usually understood by anyone else,” Mamut said. “I don’t know many of them, but when we go to the Summer Meeting, you will meet other Healers. They can tell you more.”

Ayla was interested. She remembered meeting other medicine women at the Clan Gathering, and how much she had learned from them. They had shared their treatments and remedies, even taught her new rhythms, but best of all was having other people to share experiences with. “I would like to learn more,” she said. “I know only Clan medicine.”

“I think you have more knowledge than you know, Ayla, certainly more than many of the Healers there will believe, at first. Some could learn from you, but I hope you understand that it may take some time before you are completely accepted.” The old man watched her frown again, and wished there was some way he could ease her initial introduction. He could think of several reasons why it would not be easy for her to meet other Mamutoi, especially in large numbers. But no need to worry about that yet, he thought, and shifted the subject. “There is something about Clan medicine I’d like to ask you. Is it all just the ‘memories’? Or do you have ways to help you remember?”

“How plants look, in seed, and shoot, and ripe; where they grow; what they are good for; how to mix, prepare and use them; that is from memory. Other kinds of treatments are remembered, too. I think about a new way to use something, but that is because I know how to use it,” she said.

“Don’t you use any symbols or reminders?”

Ayla thought for a moment, then smiling, got up and brought back her medicine bag. She dumped out the contents in front of her, an assortment of small pouches and packets carefully tied with cords and small thongs. She picked up two of them.

“This one has mint, she said, showing Mamut one, “and this one has rose hips.”

“How do you know? You haven’t opened them, or smelled them.”

“I know because mint has a cord made from the stringy bark of a certain bush, and there are two knots on one end of the cord. The cord on the packet of rose hips is from the long hair of a horse tail, and it has three knots in a row, close together,” Ayla said. “I can smell difference, too—if I don’t have a cold, but some very strong medicine has little smell. It is mixed with strong-smelling leaves of plant with little medicine, so wrong medicine will not be used. Different cord, different knots, different smell, sometimes different packet. They are reminders, right?”

“Clever … very clever,” Mamut said. “Yes, they are reminders. But you have to remember the cords and the knots for each one, don’t you? Still, it’s a good way to make sure you are using the proper medicine.”

Ayla’s eyes were open, but she lay still and didn’t move. It was dark except for the dim nightlight of banked fires. Jondalar was just climbing into bed, trying to make as little disturbance as possible as he moved around her. She had thought of moving to the inside once, but decided against it. She didn’t want to make it easy for him to slip quietly in and out of bed. He rolled up in his separate furs and lay on his side, facing the wall, unmoving. She knew he did not go to sleep quickly, and she ached to reach over and touch him, but she’d been rebuffed before and didn’t want to chance it again. It had hurt when he said he was tired or pretended to be asleep, or did not respond to her.

Jondalar waited until the sound of her breathing indicated that she had finally fallen off to sleep. Then he quietly rolled over, got up on an elbow and filled his eyes with the sight of her. Her tousled hair was strewn across the furs, and one arm was flung outside the covers, baring a breast. A warmth emanated from her and a faint woman-scent. He could feel himself shaking with wanting to touch her, but he felt certain she wouldn’t want him bothering her when she was sleeping. After his confused and angry reaction to her night with Ranec, he feared she didn’t want him any more. Lately, every time they accidentally brushed together, she flinched back. Several times he’d considered moving to a different bed, even a different hearth, but as difficult as it was to sleep beside her, it would be far worse to sleep away from her.