The Shelters of Stone (40 page)

It was quickly acknowledged that Ayla’s smaller, lighter spear had found the young buck. Some of the hunters knew that the young male had been browsing on a low bush somewhat away from the rest of the deer and on the opposite side of their approach. Not an easy target, and apparently no one else had attempted it, at least no other spear had found it. People talked about not only the long-distance weapon, but her skill with it, and wondered how much practice it would take to match her. Some were willing to try, but others looked at the successful hunt and weren’t sure they needed to make the effort.

Manvelar approached Joharran and several others of the Ninth Cave, including Jondalar and Ayla. “What did you find out about the bison?” he asked.

The planning and preparations for the hunt had built up an eager anticipation, but stalking the deer and dispatching
them had been so quick and efficient, it had left the hunters with a measure of excess energy that had not been used up.

“The herd was moving north again, toward the surround,” Jondalar said.

“Do you really think that they might get close enough to it so we can take advantage of the surround today?” Joharran asked. “It’s still early, and I wouldn’t mind getting a few of those bison.”

“We can make sure they do,” Jondalar said.

“How?” Kareja asked. Jondalar noticed there wasn’t as much sarcasm in her tone as there had been the day before.

“Manvelar, do you know where the surround is? And how long would it take the hunters to get there from here?” Jondalar said.

“Yes, but Thefona can tell you that better than I,” Manvelar said. The young woman was not only a good lookout, she was a good hunter. She came forward when Manvelar mentioned her name and beckoned her. “How far is it to the surround?”

She thought for a moment, looked up at the position of the sun in the sky, then said, “If we set a good pace, we could get there not much after the sun is highest, I think. But the last time I saw them, the bison weren’t that close to the surround.”

“When we found them, they were heading in that direction, and I think we can speed them up, with the help of the horses and Wolf,” Jondalar said. “Ayla has done it before.”

“What if you can’t? What if we get there, and there are no bison?” Kimeran asked. He hadn’t been around Jondalar much since his return, or Ayla, and though he’d heard many stories about his friend and the woman he’d brought back with him, he hadn’t been exposed to as many of the surprises they had brought with them as some of the others. He hadn’t seen them ride the horses until that morning and wasn’t at all sure about them.

“Then we will have nothing to show for our efforts, but it won’t be the first time,” Manvelar said.

Kimeran shrugged, and smiled wryly. “I suppose that’s true,” he said.

“Does anyone else have any objections to trying for the bison? We can just settle for the deer,” Joharran said. “We need to start butchering them, anyway.”

“That’s not a problem,” Manvelar said. “Thefona can lead you to the surround. She knows the way. I’ll go back to Two Rivers Rock and organize some people to get started with the butchering, and send a runner to the other Caves to come and help. We’ll need more help if you are lucky with the bison hunt.”

“I’m ready to try for the bison.”

“I’ll go.”

“Count me in.”

Several people volunteered.

“All right,” Joharran said. “You two go ahead and see what you can do about getting those bison started toward the surround. The rest of us will get there as fast as we can.”

Ayla and Jondalar headed for the horses. Wolf was particularly glad to see them coming. He did not like being physically restrained. Ayla did not confine his movements often, and he wasn’t used to it. The horses seemed to adjust to it more easily, but their activities were more often controlled. They mounted the horses and rode off at a fast pace, the wolf loping alongside them, leaving the people on foot watching as they quickly disappeared in the distance. It was true. Horses could certainly travel faster than people.

They decided to go to the surround first, so they could judge how far away the bison were from it. Ayla was fascinated with the circular trap and took a little time to inspect it. It consisted of many small trees and logs, filled in mostly with brush, but also with whatever they could find, such as bones and antlers. The surround had originally been constructed some years before, and it had moved somewhat from its original place. None of the trees from which it was made were sunk into the ground. Rather, they were lashed together, fixed firmly to each other, so that when some creature crashed into it, it wouldn’t break through. The fencing had some give,
some elasticity, and would instead move with the blow; sometimes, with an extremely hard thrust, the entire structure shifted.

It took a great deal of effort on the part of many people to cut down trees and branches and haul them to a logical site, especially on a largely treeless grassland, then erect a fence that could withstand the crush of heavy animals milling around inside it and the occasional assault by one maddened with fear. Each year the parts that had fallen down or rotted away were repaired or replaced. They tried to keep it sound for as long as they could. It was easier to repair than entirely rebuild, especially since there were more than one, at various strategic locations.

This surround was located in a narrow valley between a limestone cliff on one side and steep hills on the other that was a natural migration route. At one time a river had flowed through it, and a runoff stream still filled the dry bed occasionally. Hunters used it only sporadically; animals seemed to learn quickly if a particular route was consistently dangerous and tended to avoid it.

The ones who had come to repair the trap had also set up a portable fencing of panels that funneled the animals driven into the valley toward an opening in the surround. Usually hunters had time enough to establish a cadre of people to stand behind the panels to harass any animals that attempted to bolt away back toward the trap. Since this was a rather unplanned, spontaneous hunt, no one was there yet. But Ayla did notice that some scraps of leather and cloth, pieces of woven belts, and grass wands, long bunches of grass fastened to sticks, were tucked into the frames of the panels or held down with stones.

“Jondalar,” she called to him. He rode up to her. She had picked up a grass wand and a piece of leather. “Anything that flutters or moves in an unexpected way tends to spook bison, especially when they’re running, at least that’s what happened when we were driving bison toward the Lion Camp’s surround. These must be used to shake at animals heading toward the surround, to keep them from breaking away. Do
you think anybody would object if we borrowed a few? They could be useful when we’re trying to drive the herd this way.”

“You’re right. That is what they’re for,” Jondalar said, “and I’m sure no one would mind if we borrow some if it will help us get those bison here.”

They left the valley and headed toward the place where they had last seen the herd. The trail trampled by the slowly moving animals was easy to find, and they were a little closer to the valley than they were earlier. There were about fifty bison in all, males, females, and young. They were starting to come together to form the huge migratory herd that would develop later in the season.

At certain times of the year, bison congregated in such huge numbers, it was like watching a sinuously moving river of dark brown spiked with large black horns. At other times, they broke up into smaller groupings, sometimes not much more than an extended family, but they preferred to form herds of some size. On the whole there was safety in numbers. While predators, especially cave lions and packs of wolves, often brought down a bison from a herd, it was usually one that was slow or weak, which allowed the healthy and strong to survive.

They approached the herd slowly, but the bison hardly noticed them. Horses were not animals that posed a threat, though they did give Wolf a wider berth. They were aware of him, but didn’t panic; they merely avoided him, sensing that a single wolf could not take down an animal the size of a bison. Male bison were typically six feet six inches at the top of the hump on their shoulders and weighed a ton. They had long black horns and a beard that jutted forward from heavy jaws. Females were smaller, but both were quick and agile, able to climb steep slopes and leap over substantial obstacles.

They could gallop, tail up and head down, in long strides across even rocky landscapes. Bison didn’t mind water and could swim well, drying off their thick fur by rolling in the sand or dirt. They tended to graze in the evening and relaxed to chew their cud during the day. Their hearing and sense of smell were acute. Full-grown bison could be violent and aggressive,
and were difficult to kill with teeth and claws or with spears, but one bison provided fifteen hundred pounds of meat, plus fat, bones, skin, hair, and horns. Bison were proud and noble animals, respected by those who hunted them and admired for their strength and courage.

“What do you think would be the best way to get them started?” Jondalar said. “Usually the hunters let them go at their own pace, and try to guide them slowly toward the surround, at least until they get close.”

“When we hunted on our Journey here, we usually tried to get an animal to bolt away from the herd. This rime we want them all to keep going in the same direction, toward that valley,” Ayla said. “I think riding up behind them and shouting would get them going, but if we wave these things at them, I think it would be a help, especially for the bison that tries to dash away. We don’t want them stampeding in the wrong direction. Wolf always liked to chase them, too, and he got good at keeping them together.”

She looked up at the sun and tried to estimate when they might arrive at the surround, and wondered how close the hunters were. Well, the important thing is to get them moving toward the trap, she thought.

They moved around to the side opposite the direction they wanted to start them going, then, looking at each other, they nodded and, with a loud yell, urged the horses toward the herd. Ayla was holding a grass wand in one hand and the scrap of leather in the other, both hands free because she didn’t use a halter or a rein to direct Whinney.

It had been an entirely spontaneous gesture the first rime she got on the back of the horse, and she made no attempt to guide her. She simply clung to the horse’s mane and let the animal run. She felt a sense of freedom and excitement as though she were flying like the wind. The horse slowed and headed back to the valley on her own. It was the only home she knew. Afterward, Ayla couldn’t stop riding, but in the beginning the training was unconscious. Only later did she realize that she had been using the pressure and movement of her body to signal her intent.

The first time Ayla hunted large game, by herself, after she left the Clan, she drove the herd of horses that used the valley she had found toward a pit-trap she had dug. She didn’t know the horse that happened to fall into her trap was a nursing mother until she noticed some hyenas stalking the foal. She used her sling to drive the ugly creatures away, rescuing the young horse more because she hated hyenas than because she wanted to save the animal, but once she had saved it, she felt obliged to care for it. She had learned years before that a baby could eat what its mother ate, if it was softened, and cooked a broth of grains to feed the young filly.

Ayla soon came to realize that in saving the horse, she had done herself a favor. She was alone in the valley and became grateful for the company of a living being to share her lonely Ufe. It wasn’t her intention to tame the horse and she never thought of it in those terms. She looked upon the horse as her friend. Later, she became a friend who allowed the woman to ride on her back and who went where Ayla wanted her to go because she chose to.

Whinney left to live with a herd for a while, when she came into her first season, but came back to Ayla after the herd stallion died. Her foal was born not long after the woman found the wounded man, who turned out to be Jondalar. The young colt became his to name and train, finding his own means. He invented the halter to help him direct and control the young stallion. Ayla found the device useful to use on Whinney when she needed to keep her restrained to a specific area, and Jondalar used one if he needed to lead Whinney. He seldom tried to ride the mare since he didn’t fully understand the signals Ayla used to guide her, and the horse didn’t understand his. Ayla had a similar problem with Racer.

Ayla glanced at Jondalar, who was dashing after a bison, guiding Racer with ease, shaking a grass wand in the face of a young bull to get him stampeding along with the others. She saw a frightened cow veer off and started after her, but Wolf got there first and drove her back. She smiled at the wolf; he was having a wonderful time chasing the bison. They had all—the woman, the man, the two horses, and the wolf—
learned to work together, and hunt together, on their yearlong Journey following the Great Mother River in their passage across the plains from the east.

As they neared the narrow valley, Ayla noticed a man standing off to the side, waving at her, and breathed a sigh of relief. The hunters had arrived. They would keep the bison heading in the right direction once they were stampeded into the valley, but a couple of bison at the head of the herd were trying to swerve away. She leaned forward, an all but unconscious signal to Whinney to go faster. As though she knew what was in the woman’s mind, the mare raced to cut off the bison reluctant to enter the narrower way. Ayla yelled as Whinney neared, shaking the grass wand and napping the piece of leather in the canny old cow’s face, and managed to turn her back. The rest of the bison followed.

The two people on horses and the wolf kept the bison stampeding together and heading in the same direction, but the valley narrowed as they approached the restricted opening of the surround, which slowed them down as they crowded each other. Ayla noticed a bull trying to bolt to get away from the press behind them.