“No.” Ayla shook her head. “But I want to make leather red. What do you think? Footwear?”
“It’s heavy enough for it, but soft enough for a tunic. Let’s go ahead and color it. You can think about what to make with it later,” Deegie said, and as they walked toward the last hearth together, she asked, “What would you do with that hide now? If you were not going to color it?”
“I would put over very smoky fire, so leather will not get stiff again, if it gets wet, from rain, or even from swimming,” Ayla said.
Deegie nodded. “That’s what I would do, too. But what we are going to do to the hide will make the rain slide off.”
They passed by Crozie when they walked through the Crane Hearth, which reminded Ayla of something she had been meaning to ask about. “Deegie, do you know how to make leather white, too? Like tunic Crozie wear? I like red, but after that, I would like to learn white. I think I know someone who would like white.”
“White is hard to do, hard to get leather really snowy white. I think Crozie could show you better than I could. You would need chalk … Wymez might have some. Flint is found in chalk, and usually the pieces he gets from the mine up north have a covering of chalk on the outside,” Deegie said.
The young women walked back to the Mammoth Hearth with some small mortars and pestles, and several lumps of red ochre coloring material in various shades. Deegie set some fat to melting over the fire, then arrayed the colored bits of material around Ayla. There were bits of charcoal for black, manganese for a blue-black, and a bright sulphurous yellow, in addition to ochres of many colors: browns, reds, maroons, yellows. The mortars were the natural bowl shapes of certain bones, such as the frontal bone of a deer, or pecked out of granite or basalt, just as the stone lamps were. Pestles were shaped out of hard ivory or bone, except one, which was an elongated natural stone.
“What shade of red do you want, Ayla? Deep red, blood red, earth red, yellow red; that’s sort of a sun color.”
Ayla didn’t know she would have so many choices. “I don’t know … red red,” she replied.
Deegie studied the colors. “I think if we take this one,” she said, picking up a piece that was a rather bright earth red, “and add a little yellow to it, to bring out the red more, it might be a color you would like.”
She put the small lump of red ochre in the stone mortar and showed Ayla how to grind it very fine, then had her grind up the yellow color in a separate bowl. In a third bowl, Deegie mixed the two colors until she was satisfied with the shade. Then she added the hot fat, which changed the color, and brightened it to a shade that made Ayla smile.
“Yes. That is red. That is nice red,” she said.
Next Deegie picked up a long deer rib, which had been split lengthwise so that the porous inner bone was exposed at the convex end. Using the rib burnisher with the spongy side down, she picked up a dab of the cooled red fat, and rubbed the mixture into the prepared bison skin, pressing hard as she held the hide in her hand. As she worked the mineral coloring into the pores of the material, the leather acquired a smooth sheen. On leather with grain, the burnishing tool and coloring agents would have given it a hard shiny finish.
After watching awhile, Ayla picked up another rib bone and copied Deegie’s technique. Deegie watched her, offered a few corrections. When a corner of the hide was finished, she stopped Ayla for a moment.
“Look,” she said, sprinkling a few drops of water on the hide as she held up the corner. “It runs off, see?” The water beaded up and ran down, leaving no mark on the impervious finish.
* * *
“Have you decided what you are going to do with your red piece of leather, yet?” Nezzie asked.
“No,” Ayla said. She had unfolded the full bison hide to show Rydag and to admire it herself again. It was hers, because she had dressed and treated the hide, and she had never owned so much of anything that was red, and the leather had turned out to be remarkably red. “Red was sacred to Clan. I would give to Creb … if I could.”
“It is the brightest red I think I have ever seen. You would certainly see someone coming for a long way wearing that.”
“It is soft, too,” Rydag signed. He often came to the Mammoth Hearth to visit with her, and she welcomed him.
“Deegie showed me how to make soft with brain, first,” Ayla said, smiling at her friend. “I use fat before. Hard to do, and stains, sometimes. Better using brain of bison.” She paused with a thoughtful expressio
n, then asked, “Will work for every animal, Deegie?” Then, when Deegie nodded, “How much brain should use? How much for reindeer? How much for rabbit?”
“Mut, the Great Mother, in her infinite wisdom,” Ranec replied instead, with the hint of a grin, “always gives just enough brains to each animal to preserve its hide.”
Rydag’s soft guttural chuckle puzzled Ayla for a moment, then she smiled. “Some have enough brains, do not get caught?”
Ranec laughed, and Ayla joined him, pleased with herself for understanding the joke hidden in the meaning. She was becoming much more comfortable with the language.
Jondalar, just walking into the Mammoth Hearth and seeing Ayla and Ranec laughing together, felt his stomach churn into a knot. Marnut saw him close his eyes as though in pain. He glanced at Nezzie and shook his head.
Danug, who had been following behind the visiting flint worker, watched him stop, clutch a post, and drop his head. The feelings of Jondalar and Ranec for Ayla, and the problem that was developing because of them, was apparent to all, though most people did not acknowledge it. They didn’t want to interfere, hoping to give the three of them room to work it out for themselves. Danug wished he could do something to help, but he was at a loss. Ranec was a brother, since Nezzie had adopted him, but he liked Jondalar and felt empathy for his anguish. He, too, had strong, if undefined, feelings for the beautiful new member of the Lion Camp. Beyond the inexplicable flushes and physical sensations when he was near her, he felt an affinity with her. She seemed to be as confused about how to handle the situation as he often felt about the new changes and complications in his life.
Jondalar took a deep breath and straightened up, then continued into the area. Ayla’s eyes followed him as he walked over to Mamut and handed him something. She watched them exchange a few words, then Jondalar left, quickly, without saying a word to her. She had lost the thread of the conversation going on around her, and when Jondalar left, she hurried to Mamut, not hearing the question Ranec had asked her, or seeing the fleeting look of disappointment on his face. He made a joke, which she also did not hear, to cover his dismay. But Nezzie, who was sensitive to the subtle nuances of his deeper feelings, noticed the hurt in his eyes, and then saw him set his jaw and square his shoulders with resolution.
She wanted to advise him, to give him the benefit of her experience and the wisdom of her years, but she held her tongue. They must work out their own destinies, she thought.
Since the Mamutoi lived in close quarters for extended periods of time, they had to learn to tolerate each other. There was no real privacy in the earthlodge, except the privacy of each person’s thoughts, and they were very careful not to intrude into another’s private thoughts. They shied away from asking personal questions, or pressing uninvited offers of assistance and advice, or intervening in private squabbles unless they were asked, or if the squabbles got out of hand and became a problem for everyone. Instead, if they saw a troubling situation developing, they quietly made themselves available and waited with patience and forbearance until a friend was wanted to discuss worries, fears, and frustrations. They were not judgmental or highly critical, and they imposed few restrictions on personal behavior if it did not hurt or seriously disturb others. A solution to a problem was one that worked, and satisfied everyone involved. They were gentle with each other’s souls.