The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

The “hnk, hnk” grunts continued until finally the huge cave lion, gigantic compared with his later counterparts, sounded a deep, full-bellied, shattering roar that could be heard for miles. He shook the very earth with his farewell.

Ayla signaled to Whinney, and started walking back. As much as she loved riding her mare, she wanted to remember the feel of that last wild ride as long as she could.

Jondalar finally tore his eyes away from the mesmerizing scene and noticed the expressions on the faces of the others. He could see what they were thinking. Horses were one thing, even a wolf maybe, but a cave lion? He beamed a wide, smug grin of pride and relief. Let someone question his stories now!

The men started up the path after Ayla, feeling almost foolish carrying spears no one had had any use for. The people who had been watching stood back as she neared, making way for the woman and the horse, and stared after her with stunned disbelief and awe. Even the Lion Camp, who had heard Jondalar’s stories, and knew about her life in the valley, could not believe what they had seen.

35

Ayla had been selecting the clothing to take along on the hunt—it could be very cold at night, she was told. They would be in sight of the gigantic wall of ice that was the leading edge of the glacier. To her surprise, Wymez had brought her several expertly made s

pears, and was explaining to her the merits of the spear point he had devised for hunting mammoth. It was an unexpected gift, and after all the adulation and other strange behavior from the Mamutoi, she wasn’t sure how to respond. But he put her at ease with his special warm smile, and told her he had been planning this gift ever since she Promised to join with the son of his hearth. She had asked him about adapting it to work with a spear-thrower when Mamut came into the tent.

“The mamuti would like to talk to you. They want you to help with the Call to bring the mammoths, Ayla,” he said. “They think if you spoke to the Spirit Mammoth, she would be willing to give us many.”

“But I already told you. I don’t have any special powers,” Ayla pleaded. “I don’t want to talk to them.”

“I know, Ayla. I explained that you may have a Calling talent, but you are untrained. They insist that I ask you. After they saw you ride the lion and tell him to go, they are convinced that you would have a strong influence on the Spirit Mammoth, trained or not.”

“That was Baby, Mamut. The lion I raised. I couldn’t do that with just any lion.”

“Why do you speak of that lion as though you are his mother?” a voice said from the entrance. A large figure was standing there. “Are you his mother?” Lomie said, coming into the tent at Mamut’s beckoning gesture.

“In a way, I guess. I raised him from a cub. He was hurt, he’d been caught in a stampede and kicked in the head. I call him Baby because he was just a baby when I found him. I never named him anything else. He was always just Baby, even when he got big,” Ayla explained. “I don’t know how to Call animals, Lomie.”

“Then why did that lion appear, at a most providential moment, if you didn’t Call him?” Lomie asked.

“It was just by chance. There’s nothing mysterious about it. He probably picked up my scent, or Whinney’s scent, and came looking for me. He used to come back for a visit sometimes, even after he found a mate and his own pride. Ask Jondalar.”

“If he wasn’t under special influence, why didn’t he hurt that girl? She didn’t have any ‘mother’ relationship with him. She said he knocked her down, and she thought he was going to eat her, but he only licked her face.”

“I think the only reason he stopped that girl was that she looks a little like me. She’s tall, and has blond hair. He grew up with a person, not with other lions, so he thinks of people as his family. And he always used to trip me or knock me down when he hadn’t seen me for a while, if I didn’t stop him. It’s his way of being playful. He wanted to be hugged, and scratched,” Ayla explained. She noticed that the tent had filled up with mamuti, while she was talking.

Wymez stepped back out of the way with a sly smile on his face. She wouldn’t go to them, so they came to her, he thought. He frowned when he noticed Vincavec edging in closer. It would be hard on Ranec if Ayla decided to choose him instead. He had never seen the son of his hearth so upset as when he learned of Vincavec’s offer. Wymez had to admit, it had upset him, too.

Vincavec watched Ayla as she answered the questions. He was not easily overwhelmed. He was, after all, headman and Mamut, and privy to the schemes of temporal influence as well as the guises of supernatural power. But like the other mamuti, he was called to the Mammoth Hearth because he felt an urge to explore deeper dimensions, to discover and explain the reasons beyond appearances, and he could be moved by a truly inexplicable mystery, or demonstration of manifest power.

From their first meeting, he had sensed a mystery about Ayla that intrigued him, and a quality of quiet strength, as though her mettle had already been tested. His interpretation was that the Mother watched out for her, and that was why her problem would be resolved. But he’d had no inkling of the means, and he was genuinely surprised at the result. He knew no one would dream of opposing her now, or those who sheltered her. Nor would anyone object to her background, or the son she once bore. Her power was too great. Whether she would use it for beneficial or malicious purposes was incidental—like summer and winter, or day and night, they were two faces of the same substance—except that no one wanted to incur her personal enmity. If she could control a cave lion, who knew what she could do?

Vincavec, along with old Mamut and the other mamuti, had been raised in the same environment, reared in the same culture, and the patterns of belief that evolved to accommodate their existence were ingrained, were a part of their mental and moral fiber.

Their lives were largely conceived to be preordained, since they had little control over them. Illness struck without reason, and though it could be treated, some might die while others survived. Accidents were equally unpredictable, and if they happened when one was alone, were often fatal. Harsh climates and rapidly shifting weather patterns, brought on by the proximity of massive land glaciers, could cause drought or floods that had an immediate effect on the natural environment upon which they were dependent. A summer too cold, or with too much rain, could stunt plant growth, decrease animal populations, and change their migration patterns, and could result in hardship for the mammoth-hunting people.

The structure of their metaphysical universe paralleled their physical world, and was useful in providing answers to unresolvable questions—questions that could cause great anxiety without some acceptable and, based on their precepts, reasonable explanation. But any structure, no matter how useful, is also limiting. The animals of their world roamed freely, the plants grew at random, and the people were intimately familiar with these patterns. They knew where certain plants grew, and understood the behavior of animals, but it never occurred to them that the patterns could be changed; that animals and plants, and people, were born with an innate capacity for change and adaptation. That, indeed, without it, they would not survive.

Ayla’s control over the animals she had raised was not perceived as natural; no one had ever tried to tame or domesticate an animal before. The mamuti, anticipating the need for explanations to relieve the anxieties caused by this startling innovation, had mentally searched the theoretical construct of their metaphysical world for answers that would satisfy. It was not a simple act of taming animals that she had done. Instead, Ayla had demonstrated a supernatural power far beyond anyone’s imagination. Her control over animals, it seemed obvious, could only be explained by her access to the original Spirit form and therefore to the Mother Herself.

Vincavec, like old Mamut and the rest of the mamuti, was now convinced that Ayla was not just Mamut—One Who Served the Mother—she had to be something more. Perhaps she embodied some supernatural presence; she might even be Mut Herself, incarnate. It was all the more believable because she did not flaunt it. But whatever her power, he was sure some important destiny awaited her. There was a reason for her existence, and he fervently wanted to be a part of it. She was the chosen of the Great Earth Mother.

“All your explanations have merit,” Lomie said, persuasively, after she heard all of Ayla’s objections, “but would you be willing to participate in the Calling ceremony, even if you don’t think you have any Talent for it? Many people here are convinced that you would bring good luck to the mammoth hunt if you join in the Call, and offering good luck won’t hurt you. It would make the Mamutoi very happy.”

Ayla saw no way that she could refuse, but she was not comfortable With the adulation she had been getting. She almost hated to walk through the encampment now, and was looking forward to the mammoth hunt the next day with great excitement, and relief at the chance to get away for a while.

Ayla woke up and looked out the open triangular end of the lean-to traveling tent. Daylight was beginning to illuminate the eastern edge of the sky. She got up quietly, trying not to wake Ranec or anyone else, and slipped outside. The damp chill of early morning hung in the air, but no swarms of flying insects yet, for which she was grateful. Last night the air had been thick with them.

She walked to the edge of a black pool of stagnant water covered with slime and pollen; breeding grounds for the swarms of midges, gnats, blackf

lies, and mostly mosquitoes, that had risen to meet them like a high-pitched humming swirl of dark smoke. The insects had worked themselves under clothing, leaving a trail of red swollen bites, and swarmed around the eyes and choked the mouths of hunters and horses.