The Mammoth Hunters (Earth's Children 3)

“Low status? How do you know so much about wolves?” Frebec asked. There was a hint of derision in his voice, as though he didn’t want to believe her, but there was obvious interest, also.

“When I learn to hunt, I hunt only meat eaters. Only with sling. I watch close, long time. I learn about wolves. Once I see white wolf in pack. Other wolves not like her. She leave. Other wolves not like wrong color wolf.”

“It was a black wolf,” Druwez said, wanting to defend Ayla, especially after the exciting ride on the horse. “I saw it, too. I wasn’t even sure at first, but it was a wolf, and it was black. And I think it was alone.”

“Speaking of wolves, we should keep watch tonight. If there is a black wolf around, that’s all the more reason,” Talut said. “We can trade off, but someone ought to be awake and watching all night.”

“We should get some rest,” Tulie added, getting up. “We have a long hike tomorrow.”

“I’ll watch first,” Jondalar said. “When I get tired, I can wake someone.”

“You can wake me,” Talut said. Jondalar nodded.

“I watch, too,” Ayla said.

“Why don’t you watch with Jondalar? It’s a good idea to have a partner to watch with. You can keep each other awake.”

8

“It was cold last night. This meat is starting to freeze,” Deegie said, lashing a hindquarter to a packboard.

“That’s good,” Tulie said, “but there’s more than we can carry. We will have to leave some.”

“Can’t we build a cairn over it with the rocks from the fence?” Latie asked.

“We can, and we probably should, Latie. It’s a good idea,” Tulie said, preparing a load for herself that was so huge Ayla wondered how even she, as strong as she was, could carry it. “But we may not get back for it until spring, if the weather turns. If it was closer to the lodge, it would be better. Animals don’t come around as much, and we could watch it, but out here in the open if something like a cave lion, or even a determined wolverine, really wants the meat, it will find a way to break in.”

“Can’t we pour water over it to freeze it solid? That would keep animals out. It’s hard to break into a frozen cairn even with picks and mattocks,” Deegie said.

“It would keep animals out, yes, but how do you keep the sun out, Deegie?” Tornec asked. “You can’t be sure it will stay cold. It’s too early in the season.”

Ayla was listening, and watching the pile of bison parts dwindle as everyone packed as much as they could carry. She wasn’t used to surplus, to having so much that one could pick and choose and take only the best. There had always been plenty of food to eat when she lived with the Clan, and more than enough hides for clothing, bedding, and other uses, but little was wasted. She wasn’t sure how much would be left, but so much had already been thrown into the heap of scraps that it bothered her to think of leaving more, and it was obvious that no one else wanted to, either.

She noticed Danug pick up Tulie’s axe and, wielding it as easily as the woman, chop a log in two and add it to the last fire left burning. She walked over to him.

“Danug,” she said quietly. “Would help me?”

“Um … ah … yes,” he stammered bashfully, feeling his face turn red. Her voice was so low and rich and her unusual accent was so exotic. She had caught him by surprise; he hadn’t seen her coming, and standing close to the beautiful woman inexplicably flustered him.

“I need … two poles,” Ayla said, holding up two fingers. “Young trees downstream. You cut for me?”

“Ah … sure. I’ll cut down a couple of trees for you.”

As they walked toward the bend in the small river, Danug felt more relaxed, but he kept glancing down at the blond head of the woman who walked at his side and just a half-step ahead. She selected two straight young alders of approximately the same width, and after Danug chopped them down, she directed him to strip off the branches and cut the tips so that they were of equal length. By then most of the big strapping youth’s bashfulness had eased.

“What are you going to do with these?” Danug asked.

“I will show you,” she said, then with a loud, imperative whistle, she called Whinney. The mare galloped toward her. Ayla had outfitted her earlier in harness and panniers in preparation for leaving. Though Danug thought it looked odd to see a leather blanket across the horse’s back, and a pair of baskets tied to her sides with thongs, he noticed it didn’t seem to bother the animal or slow her down.

“How do you get her to do that?” Danug asked.

“Do what?”

“Come to you when you whistle.”

Ayla frowned, thinking. “I am not sure, Danug. Until Baby come, I am alone in valley with Whinney. She is only friend I know. She grow up with me, and we learn … each other.”

“Is it true that you can talk to her?”