The Mammoth Hunters

23

Jondalar was outside the lodge, pacing back and forth between the main entrance and the horse annex. Even in the warm parka he wore, an old one of Talut's, he was feeling the drop in temperature as the sun closed with the horizon. Several times he had climbed the slope in the direction Ayla and Deegie had taken, and was considering climbing it again.

He had been trying to quell his anxiety ever since the two young women left that morning, and when he first began his worried pacing early in the afternoon, others in the earthlodge smiled condescendingly, but he was no longer alone in his concern. Tulie had hiked up the slope a few times herself, and Talut was talking about getting a group together to go look for them with torches. Even Whinney and Racer seemed nervous.

As the brilliant fire in the west slid behind a bank of clouds hanging near the edge of the earth, it emerged as a sharply defined bright red circle of light; an otherworldly circle without depth or dimension, too perfect, too symmetrical to belong to the natural environment. But the glowing red orb lent color to clouds and a tinge of health to the pale partial face of the other unearthly companion, which was low in the eastern sky.

Just as Jondalar was about to climb up the slope again, two figures appeared at the top, silhouetted against a vivid lavender background that shaded into deep indigo. A single star glinted overhead. He breathed a great sigh and slumped against the arched tusks, feeling light-headed with the sudden release of tension. They were safe. Ayla was safe.

But why were they gone so long? They should know better than to make everyone worry so much. What could have kept them out so long? Maybe they were in trouble. He should have followed them.

"They're here! They're here!" Latie was shouting.

People ran out of the earthlodge half-clothed; those that were out and dressed raced up to meet them.

"What took you so long? It's almost dark. Where were you?" Jondalar demanded as soon as Ayla reached the lodge.

She looked at him in astonishment.

"Let's get them inside first," Tulie said. Deegie knew her mother was not pleased, but they had been out all day, they were tired, and it was getting colder fast. Recriminations could come later, after Tulie made sure they were all right. They were hustled in, straight through the foyer and into the cooking hearth.

Deegie, grateful to unload, lifted off the carcass of the black wolf, which had stiffened to the shape of her shoulder. When she dropped it on a mat, there were exclamations of surprise, and Jondalar blanched. There had been trouble.

"That's a wolf!" Druwez said, eying his sister with awe. "Where did you get that wolf?"

"Wait until you see what Ayla has," Deegie said, taking the white foxes out of her haversack.

Ayla was dumping frozen ermine out of her carrier with one hand, holding the other carefully against her midriff on top of her warm, hooded fur tunic.

"Those are very nice ermine," Druwez said, not nearly as impressed with the small white weasels as he was with the black wolf, but not wanting to offend.

Ayla smiled at the boy, then she untied the thong she had belted around her parka, and reaching under, withdrew a small gray ball of fur. Everyone looked to see what she had. Suddenly it moved.

The wolf puppy had slept comfortably against Ayla's warm body underneath her outer garment, but the light, and the noise, and the unfamiliar smells were frightening. The pup whimpered and tried to snuggle against the woman whose smell and warmth had become familiar. She put the small fuzzy creature down on the soil of the drawing pit. The puppy stood up, wobbled a few steps, then promptly squatted and made a puddle that was quickly absorbed by the soft, dry dirt.

"It's a wolf!" Danug said.

"A baby wolf!" Latie added, her eyes filled with delight.

Ayla noticed Rydag hunkering close to look at the small animal. He reached out a hand, and the puppy sniffed it, and then licked it. Rydag's smile was pure joy.

"Where you get little wolf, Ayla?" the boy signed.

"Is long story," she signaled back, "will tell later." She quickly pulled off her parka. Nezzie took it and handed her a cup of hot tea. She smiled gratefully and took a sip.

"It doesn't matter where she got it. What is she going to do with it?" Frebec demanded. Ayla knew he understood the silent language, though he claimed he didn't. He had obviously understood Rydag. She turned and faced him.

"I am going to take care of it, Frebec," Ayla said, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I killed its mother" – she motioned toward the black wolf – "and I'm going to take care of this baby."

"That's not a baby. That's a wolf! An animal that can hurt people," he said. Ayla seldom took such a strong stand with him or anyone, and he had discovered she would often give in on small issues to avoid conflict if he was nasty enough. He didn't expect the direct confrontation, and he didn't like it, especially when he could sense it was not likely to go his way.

Manuv looked at the wolf puppy, and then at Frebec, and his face split into a wide grin. "Are you afraid that animal is going to hurt you, Frebec?"

The raucous laughter made Frebec flush with anger. "I didn't mean that. I mean wolves can hurt people. First it's horses, now it's wolves. What next? I am not an animal, and I don't want to live with animals," he said. Then he stomped away, not ready to test whether the rest of the Lion Camp would rather have him or Ayla and her animals if he forced them to make a choice.

"Do you have meat left from that bison roast, Nezzie?"

"You must be starving. I'll fix you a plate of dinner."

"Not for me. For the wolf puppy," Ayla said.

Nezzie brought Ayla a slab of roast meat, wondering how such a small wolf was going to eat it. But Ayla remembered a lesson she had learned long ago: babies can eat whatever their mothers eat, but it must be softer and easier to chew and swallow. She had once brought an injured young cave lion cub to her valley and fed him meat and broth instead of milk. Wolves were meat eaters, too. She recalled that when she was watching wolves to learn about them, older wolves often chewed up food and swallowed it to bring it back to the den, then regurgitated it for the puppies. But she didn't have to chew it up, she had hands and a sharp knife, she could cut it up.

After mincing the meat to a pulp, Ayla put it in a bowl and added warm water, to bring the temperature closer to mother's milk. The puppy had been sniffing around the edges of the drawing pit, but seemed afraid to venture beyond its boundaries. Ayla sat down on the mat, held out her hand and softly called to the wolf. She had taken the baby from a cold and lonely place and brought it warmth and comfort, and her scent was already associated with security. The fuzzy fur ball waddled toward her outstretched hand.

She picked it up first to examine it. Close scrutiny revealed the little wolf was a male, and very young, probably no more than one full cycle of moon phases had passed since he was born. She wondered if he'd had siblings, and if he did, when they died. He was not injured in any way that she could tell, and he did not seem to be malnourished, though the black wolf had certainly been scrawny. When Ayla thought about the terrible odds the black had fought to keep this one pup alive, it reminded her of an ordeal she had once faced and it strengthened her resolve. If she could, she was going to keep the mother wolf's son alive, whatever it took, and not Frebec or anyone else was going to stop her.

Holding the pup in her lap, Ayla dipped her finger in the bowl of finely minced meat and held it under the baby wolf's nose. He was hungry. He nosed it, licked it, and then licked her finger clean. She scooped up another fingerful, and he eagerly licked that off, too. She held him on her lap, and continued to feed him, feeling his little belly round out. When she felt he had enough, she held a little water under his nose, but he only sampled. Then she got up and carried him to the Mammoth Hearth.

"I think you'll find some old baskets on that bench over there," Mamut said, following behind her.

She smiled at him. He knew exactly what she had in mind. She rummaged around and found a large woven cooking container, falling apart at one end, and put it on the platform near the head of her bed. But when she put the wolf in it, he whimpered to get out. She picked him up and looked around again, not sure what would work. She was tempted to take him into her bed, but she'd been through that with growing baby horses and lions. It was too hard getting them to change their habits later, and besides, Jondalar might not want to share his bed with a wolf.

"He's not happy in the basket. He probably wants his mother or other puppies to sleep with," Ayla said, "Give him something of yours, Ayla," Mamut said. "Something soft, comfortable, familiar. You're his mother now."

She nodded and looked over her small assortment of clothes. She didn't have much. Her beautiful outfit from Deegie, the one she had made in the valley before she came, and some used odds and ends given to her by other people for changes. She'd had plenty of spare wraps when she lived with the Clan, and even in the valley…

She noticed the backframe she had brought from the valley put aside in a far corner of the storage platform. She looked through it and pulled out Durc's cloak, but after holding it for a moment, she folded it and put it back. She couldn't bear to give it up. Then she found her old Clan wrap, a large old hide of soft leather. She had worn one like it, wrapped around her and tied with a long thong, for as long as she could remember, until the day she first left her valley with Jondalar. It seemed so long ago now. She lined the basket with the Clan wrap, and put the wolf puppy in it. He sniffed around, then quickly snuggled in and was soon sound asleep.

Suddenly she realized how tired she was, and hungry, and her clothes were still damp from the snow. She took off wet boots, and the lining made of felted mammoth wool, and changed into one of her dry outfits and the soft indoor footwear Talut had shown her how to make. She had been intrigued by the pair he had worn at her adoption ceremony, and prevailed upon him to show her how they were made.

They were based on a natural characteristic of elk or deer: the hind leg bends so sharply at the gambrel joint it conforms to the natural shape of a human foot. The skin was cut above and below the joint and taken off in one piece. After curing, the lower end was then sewn with sinew to the desired size, and the upper part wrapped and laced above the ankle with cords or thongs. The result was a seamless, warm, and comfortable leather stocking-shoe.

After she changed, Ayla went into the annex to check on the horses, and reassure them, but she noticed a hesitation and a resistance from the mare when she went to pet her.

"You smell the wolf, don't you, Whinney? You will have to get used to it. Both of you. The wolf is going to be here with us, for a while." She held out her hands and let both horses sniff them. Racer backed off, snorted and tossed his head, and sniffed again. Whinney put her muzzle into the woman's hands, but her ears flattened back and she bobbed indecisively. "You got used to Baby, Whinney, you can get used to Wolf. I'll bring him out here tomorrow, when he wakes up. When you see how little he is, you will know he can't hurt you."

When Ayla went back in, she saw Jondalar by the bed looking at the wolf puppy. His expression was unreadable, but she thought she saw curiosity and something like tenderness in his eyes. He looked up and saw her, and his forehead furrowed in a familiar way.

"Ayla, why did you stay out so long?" he said. "Everyone was getting ready to search for you."

"We didn't plan to, but once I saw that the black wolf I killed was nursing, I had to see if I could find her pups," Ayla said.

"What difference did it make? Wolves die all the time, Ayla!" He had started out talking to her in a reasonable tone, but his fear for her safety was putting an edge on his voice. "It was stupid to go tracking after a wolf like that. If you had found a wolf pack, they could have killed you." Jondalar had been beside himself with worry, but with relief came uncertainty, and a touch of frustrated anger.

"It made a difference to me, Jondalar," she flared, jumping to the defense of the wolf. "And I am not stupid. I hunted meat eaters before I hunted anything else. I know wolves. If there had been a pack, I would not have backtracked to her den. The pack would have taken care of her pups."

"Even if she was a lone wolf, why did you spend all day chasing after a wolf puppy?" Jondalar's voice had gotten louder. He was releasing his own tensions as well as trying to convince her not to take such chances again.

"That puppy was all that mother wolf ever had. I could not let him starve because I killed his mother. If someone hadn't cared about me when I was young, I would not be alive. I have to care, too, even for a wolf puppy." Ayla's voice had risen, too.

"It's not the same. A wolf is an animal. You should have better sense, Ayla, than to threaten your own life for the sake of a wolf puppy," Jondalar shouted. He couldn't seem to make her understand. "This is not the kind of weather to be out in all day."

"I have good sense, Jondalar," Ayla said with anger flashing in her eyes. "I was the one who was out. Don't you think I know what the weather was like? Don't you think I know when my life is in danger? I took care of myself before you came, and faced far worse dangers. I even took care of you. I don't need you to tell me I am stupid and don't have sense."

People who were gathering at the Mammoth Hearth were reacting to the quarrel, smiling nervously and trying to make less of it. Jondalar glanced around and noticed several people smiling and talking among themselves, but the one who stood out was the dark man with the flashing eyes. Was there a hint of condescension in his broad smile?

"You're right, Ayla. You don't need me, do you? For anything." Jondalar spat, then seeing Talut approaching, he asked, "Would you mind if I moved to the cooking hearth, Talut? I'll try to stay out of everyone's way."

"No, of course I don't mind, but…"

"Good. Thank you," he said, and grabbed his bedding and belongings from the bed platform he shared with Ayla.

Ayla was stricken, beside herself to think he might really want to sleep away from her. She was almost ready to beg him not to leave, but her pride held her tongue. He had shared her bed, but they hadn't shared Pleasures in so long she was sure he had stopped loving her. If he didn't love her any more, she would not try to force him to stay, though the thought of it wrenched her stomach into a knot of fear and grief.

"You'd better take your share of food, too," she said, as he stuffed things into a back carrier. Then, trying to find a way to make the separation not quite so complete, she added, "Though I don't know who will cook for you there. It is not a real hearth."

"Who do you think cooked for me when I was on my Journey? A donii? I don't need a woman to take care of me. I'll cook for myself!" He stomped away, his arms full of furs, through the Fox Hearth and the Lion Hearth, and threw his bedding down near the tool-working area. Ayla watched him go, not wanting to believe it.

The lodge was buzzing with talk about their separation. Deegie hurried down the passageway after hearing the news, finding it hard to believe. She and her mother had gone to the Aurochs Hearth while Ayla was feeding the wolf and spoke together quietly for some time. Deegie, who had also changed into dry clothes, looked both chastened and resolute. Yes, they should not have stayed out so long, for their own safety as well as for the concern they caused others, but no, under the circumstances, she would not have done anything differently. Tulie would like to have spoken to Ayla as well, but felt it would be inappropriate, especially after hearing Deegie's story. Ayla had told Deegie to go back before they started their senseless wolf tracking, and they were both grown young women who should be perfectly able to take care of themselves by now, but Tulie had never been so worried about Deegie in her life.

Nezzie nudged Tronie, and they both filled plates with warmed food and brought it to the Mammoth Hearth for Ayla and Deegie. Maybe things would straighten out after they had something to eat and had a chance to tell their story.

Everyone had held off asking about the wolf pup until the necessities of warmth and food for the young women, and the little wolf, had been attended to. Though she had been hungry, Ayla found it hard now to put food in her mouth. She kept looking in the direction Jondalar had gone. Everyone else seemed to find their way to the Mammoth Hearth, anticipating the story of an exciting and unusual adventure, which could be told and retold. Whether she was in the mood or not, they all wanted to know the story of how she arrived back at the lodge with a baby wolf.

Deegie began by relating the strange circumstances of the white foxes in the snares. She was quite certain now that it was the black wolf, weakened and hungry, and unable to hunt deer or horse or bison alone, that had been driven to taking the foxes from the traps for food. Ayla suggested that the black might have followed Deegie's trail from trap to trap when she set them. Then Deegie told of Ayla wanting white fur to make something for someone, but not white fox fur this time, and tracking the ermine.

Jondalar arrived after the storytelling began, and was trying to remain quietly unnoticed sitting near the far wall. He was already sorry and berating himself for leaving so hastily, but he felt the blood drain from his face when he heard Deegie's remark. If Ayla was making something with white fur for someone, and did not want winter fox, it must be because she had already given that someone white winter fox. And he knew to whom she had given white fox furs at her adoption ceremony… Jondalar closed his eyes and clenched his fists in his lap. He didn't even want to think it, but he couldn't keep the thoughts from his mind. Ayla must be making something for the dark man who looked so stunning in white fur; for Ranec.

Ranec wondered, too, who the someone was. He suspected it was Jondalar, but he hoped it might be someone else, maybe even him. It gave him an idea, though. Whether she was making something for him or not, he could still make something for her. He recalled her excitement and delight over the carved horse he had given her, and grew warm at the thought of carving something else for her; something that would delight her and excite her again, especially now that the big blond man had moved away. Jondalar's presence had always acted as a restraining influence, but if he was willingly abdicating his primary position, leaving her bed and her hearth, then Ranec felt free to pursue her more actively.

The little wolf whimpered in his sleep, and Ayla, sitting on the edge of her bed platform, reached over and stroked him to calm him. The only time in his young life that he had felt as warm and secure as he did now was when he had been nestled beside his mother, and she had left him alone many times in the cold dark den. But Ayla's hand had taken him out of that cheerless and frighteningly alone place, and brought him warmth and food and a feeling of safety. He settled down under her reassuring touch without even waking.

Ayla let Deegie continue the story, only adding comments and explanations. She didn't feel much like talking, and it was interesting that the other young woman's story was not the same one she would have told. It wasn't less true, but seen from a different viewpoint, and Ayla was a little surprised at some of her companion's impressions. She hadn't seen the situation as quite so dangerous. Deegie had been much more frightened of the wolf, she didn't seem to really understand them.

Wolves were among the gentlest of meat eaters, and very predictable, if you paid attention to their signals – weasels were far more bloodthirsty and bears more unpredictable. It was rare for wolves to attack humans.

But Deegie didn't see them that way. She described the wolf as viciously attacking Ayla, and she had been afraid. It had been dangerous, but even if Ayla hadn't fended it off, the attack was defensive. She might have been hurt, but she probably would not have been killed, and the wolf had backed down as soon as she could grab the dead ermine and get away. When Deegie described Ayla diving head first into the wolf's den, the Camp looked at her in awe. She was either very brave or very foolhardy, but Ayla didn't think she was either. She knew there were no other adult wolves around, there were no other tracks. The black had been a lone wolf, probably far from her home territory, and the black was dead.

Deegie's vivid recounting of Ayla's exploits did more than cause awe in one of the listeners. Jondalar had been growing more and more agitated. In his mind he embellished the story even more, envisioned Ayla not only in great danger but attacked by wolves, hurt and bleeding, and perhaps worse. He couldn't bear the thought, and his earlier anxiety returned in redoubled force. Other people had similar feelings.

"You should not have put yourself in such danger, Ayla," the headwoman said.

"Mother!" Deegie said. The woman had indicated earlier that she would not bring up her concerns.

People who were still caught up in the adventure scowled at her for interrupting a dramatic story, told with skill. That it was true made it more exciting, and though it would be told and retold, it would never again have the fresh impact of the first hearing. The mood was being spoiled – after all, she was back home and safe now.

Ayla looked at Tulie, then glanced at Jondalar. She had known the moment he came back to the Mammoth Hearth. He had been angry, and so, it seemed, was Tulie. "I was not in such danger," she said.

"You do not think it is dangerous to go into a wolves' den?" Tulie asked.

"No. There was no danger. It was the den of a lone wolf, and she was dead. I only went in to look for her babies."

"That may be, but was it necessary to stay out so late tracking the wolf? It was almost dark before you returned," Tulie said.

Jondalar had said the same thing. "But I knew the black had young, she was nursing. Without a mother, they would die," Ayla explained, although she had said it before and thought it was understood.

"So you endanger your own life" – and Deegie's, she thought, though she did not say it – "for the life of a wolf? After the black one attacked you, it was foolhardy to continue to chase it just to get back the ermine it took. You should have let it go."

"I disagree, Tulie," Talut interjected. Everyone turned toward the headman. "There was a starving wolf in the vicinity, one that had already trailed Deegie when she set her traps. Who's to say it wouldn't have trailed her back here? The weather is getting warmer, children are playing outside more. If that wolf got desperate enough, it might have attacked one of the children, and we would not have expected it. Now we know the wolf is dead. It's better that way."

People were nodding their heads in agreement, but Tulie was not to be put off so easily. "Perhaps it was better that the wolf was killed, but you can't say it was necessary to stay out so long looking for the wolf's young. And now that she found the wolf pup, what are we going to do with it?"

"I think Ayla did the right thing in going after the wolf and killing it, but it is a shame that a nursing mother had to be killed. All mothers deserve the right to raise their young, even mother wolves. But more than that, it was not an entirely useless effort for Ayla and Deegie to track back to the wolf den, Tulie. They did more than find a wolf pup. Since they found only one set of tracks, now we know there are no other starving wolves nearby. And if, in the name of the Mother, Ayla took pity on the wolf mother's young, I don't see any harm in that. It's such a tiny little pup."

"Now it's a tiny little pup, but it won't stay little. What do we do with a full-grown wolf around the lodge? How do you know it won't attack the children, then?" Frebec asked. "There will soon be a small baby at our hearth."

"Considering her way with animals, I think Ayla would know how to keep that wolf from hurting anyone. But more than that, I will say now, as headman of the Lion Camp, if there is even a hint that that wolf might hurt someone" – Talut stared pointedly at Ayla – "I will kill him. Do you agree to that, Ayla?"

All eyes turned to her. She flushed and stammered at first, and then spoke what she felt. "I cannot say for certain that this pup will not hurt someone when he is grown. I cannot even say if he will stay. I raised a horse from a baby. She left to find her stallion and joined a herd for a while, but she came back. I also raised a cave lion until he was full-grown. Whinney was like a mother's helper to Baby when he was little and they became friends. Even though cave lions hunt horses, and could easily have harmed me, he did not threaten either of us. He was always just my baby.

"When Baby left to find a mate, he did not come back, not to stay, but he visited, and sometimes we met him on the steppes. He never threatened Whinney or Racer, or me, even after he found a mate and started his own pride. Baby attacked two men who went into his den, and killed one, but when I told him to go away and leave Jondalar and his brother alone, he went. A cave lion and a wolf are both meat eaters. I have lived with a cave lion, and I have watched wolves. I do not think a wolf that grows up with the people of a Camp will ever hurt them, but I will say here, that if there is any hint of danger to any child, or any person" – she swallowed a few times – "I, Ayla of the Mamutoi, will kill him myself."

Ayla decided to introduce the wolf pup to Whinney and Racer the following morning so they could get accustomed to his scent and avoid unnecessary nervousness. After feeding him, she picked up the little canine and took him out to the horse annex to meet the equine pair. Unknown to her, several people had seen her go.

Before she approached the horses with the young wolf, however, she picked up a dried chunk of horse dung, crushed it and rubbed him with the fibrous dust. Ayla hoped the steppe horse would be willing to befriend another baby hunting animal as she had the cave lion, but she recalled that Whinney had been more accepting of Baby after he had rolled in her dung.

When she held out the handful of fuzzy fur to Whinney, the mare shied away at first, but her natural curiosity won out. She advanced cautiously, and smelled the comforting, familiar scent of horse along with the more disturbing wolf odor. Racer was equally curious, and less cautious. While he had an instinctive wariness of wolves, he had never lived with a wild herd and had never been the object of pursuit by a pack of proficient hunters. He stepped up to the warm and living, interesting, though vaguely threatening, furry thing which Ayla held cupped in both hands, and stretched forward for a closer inspection.

After the two horses had sniffed sufficiently to familiarize themselves with the puppy, Ayla put him down on the ground in front of the two large grazers, and heard a gasp. She glanced toward the Mammoth Hearth entrance and noticed Latie holding open the drape. Talut, Jondalar, and several others crowded close behind her. They didn't want to disturb her, but they, too, were curious, and couldn't resist the urge to see the first meeting of the baby wolf and the horses. Small though he was, the wolf was a predator, and horses were wolves' natural prey. But hooves and teeth could be formidable weapons. Horses had been known to wound or kill full-grown attacking wolves and could easily make short work of so small a predator.

The horses knew they were in no danger from the young hunter, and quickly overcame their initial wariness. More than one person smiled to see the wobbly little wolf, not much bigger than a hoof, looking up the massive legs of the strange giants. Whinney lowered her head and nosed forward, pulled back, then poked her long mobile nose toward the wolf again. Racer approached the interesting baby from the other side. The wolf puppy huddled down amid cringed when he saw the huge heads approaching him. But from the point of view of the small puppy, the world was populated by giants. The humans, even the woman who fed and comforted him, were gigantic, too.

He detected no threat in the warm breath blowing from the flaring nostrils. To the wolf's sensitive nose, the scent of these horses was familiar. It permeated Ayla's clothing and belongings, and even the woman herself. The baby wolf decided that these four-legged giants were part of his pack, too, and with his normal puppyish eagerness to please, reached up to touch his tiny black nose to the soft warm nose of the mare.

"They're touching noses!" Ayla heard Latie say in a loud whisper.

When the wolf started to lick the muzzle of the mare, which was the usual way puppies approached members of their pack, Whinney lifted her head quickly. But she was too intrigued to stay away for long from the startling little animal, and was soon accepting the caressing warm licks of the tiny predator.

After a few moments of mutually getting acquainted, Ayla picked up the young wolf to carry him back in. It had been an auspicious beginning, but she decided not to overdo it. Later, she would take him out for a ride.

Ayla had seen a look of amused tenderness on Jondalar's face when the animals met. It was an expression that once had been so familiar to her, it filled her with an unaccountable surge of happiness. Perhaps he would be willing to move back to the Mammoth Hearth, now that he had time to think about it. But when she went inside and smiled at him – her big beautiful smile – he averted his face and lowered his eyes, then quickly followed Talut back to the cooking hearth. Ayla bowed her head as her joy evaporated, leaving an aching heaviness in its place, convinced he didn't care about her any more.

Nothing was further from the truth. He was sorry he had acted so hastily, ashamed that he had displayed such immature behavior, and certain that he was no longer welcome after his abrupt departure. He did not think her smile was really intended for him. He believed that it was a result of the successful meeting of the animals, but the sight of it filled him with such an agony of love and yearning, he couldn't bear to be near her.

Ranec saw Ayla's eyes follow after the back of the big man. He wondered how long their separation would last, and what effect it would have. Though he was almost afraid to hope, he could not help but think that Jondalar's absence might increase his chances with Ayla. He had some notion that he was in part a cause of the separation, but he felt the problem between them went deeper. Ranec had made his interest in Ayla obvious, and neither of them had indicated that it was wholly misplaced. Jondalar had not confronted him with a definitive statement of his intention to join with Ayla in an exclusive union; he had just acted with suppressed anger and withdrawn. And while Ayla had not exactly encouraged him, she had not turned him away either.

It was true, Ayla did welcome Ranec's company. She wasn't sure what was causing Jondalar to be so aloof, but she felt certain it was something that she was doing wrong. Ranec's attentive presence made her feel that her behavior could not be entirely inappropriate.

Latie was standing beside Ayla, her eyes bright with interest in the wolf puppy she held. Ranec joined them.

"That was a sight I'll never forget, Ayla," Ranec said. "That tiny thing touching noses with that huge horse. He's a brave little wolf."

She looked up and smiled, as pleased at Ranec's praise as she would have been if the animal were her own child. "Wolf was frightened at first. They are much bigger than he is. I'm glad they made friends so fast."

"Is that what you are going to call him? Wolf?" Latie asked.

"I haven't really thought about it. It does seem a fitting name, though."

"I can't think of one more fitting," Ranec conceded.

"What do you think, Wolf?" Ayla asked, holding the baby wolf up and looking at him. The puppy squirmed toward her eagerly, and licked her face. They all smiled.

"I think he likes it," Latie said.

"You do know animals, Ayla," Ranec said, then with a questioning look, he added, "There is something I'd like to ask you, though. How did you know the horses wouldn't hurt him? Wolf packs hunt horses, and I've seen horses kill wolves. They are mortal enemies."

Ayla paused and considered. "I'm not sure. I just knew. Maybe because of Baby. Cave lions kill horses, too, but you should have seen Whinney with him when he was little. She was so protective, like a mother, or at least an aunt. Whinney knew a baby wolf couldn't hurt her, and Racer seemed to know it, too. I think if you start when they are babies, many animals can be friends, and friends of people, too."

"Is that why Whinney and Racer are your friends?" Latie asked.

"Yes, I think so. We've had time to get used to each other. That's what Wolf needs."

"Do you think he might get used to me?" Latie asked, with such yearning, Ayla smiled with recognition of the feeling.

"Here," she said, holding the puppy out to the girl. "Hold him."

Latie cuddled the warm and wriggling animal in her arms, then bent her cheek to feel the soft fuzzy fur. Wolf licked her face, too, including her in his pack.

"I think he likes me," Latie said. "He just kissed me!"

Ayla smiled at the delighted reaction. She knew such friendliness was natural to wolf puppies; the humans seemed to find it as irresistible as adult wolves did. Only when they grew older did wolves become shy, defensive, and suspicious of strangers.

The young woman observed the pup with curiosity as Latie held him. Wolf's coat was still the unshaded dark gray color of the very young. Only later would the hair develop the dark and light bars of the typical agouti coloration of an adult wolf – if it would at all. His mother had been solid black, even darker than the pup, and Ayla wondered what color Wolf would turn out to be.

They all turned their heads at Crozie's screech.

"Your promises mean nothing! You promised me respect! You promised I would always be welcome, no matter what!"

"I know what I promised. You don't have to remind me," Frebec shouted.

The squabble was not unexpected. The long winter had provided time to make and mend, to carve and to weave, to tell stories, sing songs, play games and musical instruments; to indulge in all the pastimes and diversions ever invented. But as the long season drew to a close, it was also the time when close confinement caused tempers to flare. The undercurrent of conflict between Frebec and Crozie had caused such strained relations that most people felt an outbreak was imminent.

"Now you say you want me to leave. I am a mother with no place to go, and you want me to leave. Is that keeping your promise?"

The verbal battle was carried along the passageway and soon arrived in full force at the Mammoth Hearth. The wolf puppy, frightened by the noise and commotion, squirmed out of Latie's arms, and was gone before she could see where he went.

"I keep my promises," Frebec said. "You didn't hear me right. What I meant was…" He had made promises to her, but he didn't know then what it would be like to live with the old harridan. If only he could just have Fralie and not have to put up with her mother, he thought, looking around trying to think of some way to get out of the corner Crozie had put him in.

"What I meant was…" He noticed Ayla and looked directly at her. "We need more room. The Crane Hearth isn't big enough for us. And what are we going to do when the baby comes? There seems to be plenty of room in this hearth, even for animals!"

"It's not for the animals, the Mammoth Hearth was this size before Ayla came," Ranec said, coming to Ayla's defense. "Everyone in the Camp congregates here, it has to be larger. Even then it gets crowded. You can't have a hearth this big."

"Did I ask for one this big? I only said ours wasn't big enough. Why should the Lion Camp make room for animals but not for people?"

More people were coming to see what was going on. "You can't take room from the Mammoth Hearth," Deegie said, making room for the old shaman to come forward. "Tell him, Mamut."

"No one made room for the wolf. He sleeps in a basket near her head," Mamut began in a reasonable tone. "You imply Ayla has this entire hearth, but she has little space to call her own. People gather here whether there is a ceremony or not, particularly the children. There is always someone around, including Fralie and her children sometimes."

"I have told Fralie I don't like her to spend so much time here, but she says she needs more room to spread out her work. Fralie would not have to come here to work if we had more room at our hearth."

Fralie blushed, and went back to the Crane Hearth. She had told Frebec that, but it wasn't entirely true. She also liked to spend time at the Mammoth Hearth for the company, and because Ayla's advice had helped with her difficult pregnancy. Now Fralie felt she would have to stay away.

"Anyway, I wasn't talking about the wolf," Frebec continued, "though no one asked me if I wanted to share the lodge with that animal. Just because one person wants to bring animals here, I don't know why I should have to live with them. I'm not an animal, and I didn't grow up with them, but around here animals are worth more than people. This whole Camp will build a separate room for horses, while we are squeezed into the smallest hearth in the lodge!"

An uproar ensued with everybody shouting at once, trying to make themselves heard.

"What do you mean, 'the smallest hearth in the lodge'?" Tornec stormed. "We have no more room than you, maybe less, and just as many people!"

"That's true," Tronie said. Manuv was vigorously nodding his head in agreement.

"No one has much room," Ranec said.

"He's right!" Tronie agreed again, with more vehemence. "I think even the Lion Hearth is smaller than yours, Frebec, and they have more people than you, and bigger ones, too. They are really cramped. Maybe they should have some of the space from the cooking hearth. If any hearth deserves it, they do."

"But the Lion Hearth is not asking for more room," Nezzie tried to say.

Ayla looked from one person to the next, unable to understand how the entire Camp had suddenly become embroiled in a vociferous argument, but feeling that somehow it was all her fault.

In the midst of it all, a loud bellow suddenly roared out that overpowered all the commotion and stopped everyone. Talut stood in the middle of the hearth with commanding assurance. His feet were spread apart and in his right hand was the enigmatically decorated, long, straight ivory shaft. Tulie joined him, lending her presence and authority. Ayla felt daunted by the powerful pair.

"I have brought the Speaking Staff," Talut said, holding up the shaft and shaking it to make his point. "We will discuss this problem peaceably and settle it equitably."

"In the name of the Mother, let no one dishonor the Speaking Staff," Tulie added. "Who will speak first?"

"I think Frebec should speak first," Ranec said. "He's the one with the problem."

Ayla had been edging toward the periphery, trying to get away from the noisy, shouting people. She noticed that Frebec seemed uncomfortable and nervous with all the unfriendly attention focused on him. Ranec's comment had carried the strong implication that the imbroglio was entirely his fault. Ayla, standing somewhat hidden behind Danug, studied Frebec closely for perhaps the first time.

He was of average height, perhaps a bit less. Now that she noticed it, she thought she was probably slightly taller than he, but she was somewhat taller than Barzec, too, and probably matched Wymez in height. She was so used to being taller than everyone she hadn't paid attention before. Frebec had light brown hair, thinning somewhat, eyes of a medium shade of blue, and straight, even features with no disfigurements. He was an ordinary-looking man and she could find nothing to account for his belligerent, offensive behavior. There were times when Ayla was growing up that she wished she had looked as much like the rest of the Clan as Frebec looked like his people.

As Frebec stepped forward and took the Speaking Staff from Talut, Ayla noticed Crozie out of the corner of her eye, with a gloating smirk on her face. Certainly the old woman was at least partially to blame for Frebec's actions, but was that all? There had to be more to it. Ayla looked for Fralie, but didn't see her among the people gathered in the Mammoth Hearth. Then she noticed the pregnant woman watching from the edge of the Crane Hearth.

Frebec cleared his throat a few times, then, shifting his hold on the ivory shaft and grasping firmly, he began. "Yes, I do have a problem." He looked around nervously, then scowling, he stood up straighter. "I mean, we have a problem, the Crane Hearth. There is not enough space. We have no room to work, it is the smallest hearth in the lodge…"

"It is not the smallest. Theirs is bigger than ours!" Tronie spoke out, unable to restrain herself.

Tulie fixed her with a stern eye. "You will have a chance to speak, Tronie, when Frebec is through."

Tronie blushed and mumbled apologies. Her embarrassment seemed to give Frebec encouragement. His stance became more aggressive.

"We don't have enough room now, Fralie doesn't have enough room to work, and… and Crozie needs more space. And soon there will be another person. I think we should have more room." Frebec gave the Staff back to Talut and stepped back.

"Tronie, you may speak now," Talut said.

"I don't think… I was just… well, maybe I will," she said, stepping forward to take the Staff. "We don't have any more room than the Crane Hearth, and we have just as many people." Then she added, trying to enlist Talut's assistance, "I think even the Lion Hearth is smaller."

"That is not important, Tronie," Talut said. "The Lion Hearth isn't asking for space and we are not close enough to the Crane Hearth to be affected by Frebec's desire for more room. You, at the Reindeer Hearth, do have a right to speak up since changes in the Crane Hearth are more likely to cause changes in your space. Is there anything else you want to say?"

"No, I don't think so," Tronie said, shaking her head, as she handed him the Staff.

"Anyone else?"

Jondalar wished he could say something that would help, but he was an outsider and felt it wasn't his place to intrude. He wanted to be by Ayla's side, and was even more sorry now that he had moved his sleeping place. He was almost glad when Ranec stepped up and took the ivory shaft. Somebody needed to speak for her.

"It's not terribly important, but Frebec is exaggerating. I can't say whether or not they need more space, but the Crane Hearth is not the smallest hearth in the lodge. The Fox Hearth has that honor. But we are only two, and we are content."

There were murmurs, and Frebec glared at the carver. There had never been much understanding between the two men. Ranec had always felt they had little in common, and tended to ignore him. Frebec took it as disdain, and there was some truth to the feeling. Particularly since he had begun making disparaging remarks to Ayla, Ranec found little of worth in Frebec.

Talut, attempting to forestall another general argument, raised his voice and addressed Frebec. "How do you think the space in the lodge ought to be changed to give you more room?" He gave the long ivory pole to the man.

"I never said I wanted to take any space from the Reindeer Hearth, but it seems to me that if some people have space for animals, they have more room than they need. A whole annex was added to the lodge for the horses, but no one seems to care that we will soon be adding another person. Maybe things could be… moved over," Frebec finished lamely. He was not happy to see Mamut reach for the speaking Staff.

"Are you suggesting that in order to make more room at the Crane Hearth, the Reindeer Hearth should move into the Mammoth Hearth? That would be a great inconvenience for them. As for Fralie coming here to work, you are not suggesting that she confine herself to the Crane Hearth, are you? It would be unhealthy, and deprive her of the companionship she finds here. This is where she is supposed to bring her projects. This hearth is meant to accommodate work that takes more room than there is in anyone's personal hearth. The Mammoth Hearth belongs to everyone and it is almost too small for gatherings now."

When Mamut turned the Speaking Staff back to Talut, Frebec looked chastened, but he bristled defensively when Ranec took it again.

"As for the horse annex, we will all benefit from that space, especially after storage cellars are dug. Even now, it has become a convenient entrance for many people. I notice you keep your outer clothes in there, and use it more often than the front way, Frebec," Ranec said. "Besides, babies are small. They don't take much space. I don't think you need more room."

"How would you know?" Crozie interjected. "You've never had one born to your hearth. Babies do take room, a lot more than you think."

Only after she said it did Crozie realize that for the first time she had sided with Frebec. She frowned, then decided maybe he was right. Maybe they did need more room. It was true that the Mammoth Hearth was a gathering place, but it did seem to accord Ayla greater status because she lived at such a large hearth. Though everyone had considered it theirs when Mamut had lived there alone, now, except for ceremonial gatherings, everyone treated it as though it were Ayla's. A larger space for the Crane Hearth might increase the status of its members.

Everyone seemed to take Crozie's interruption as a signal for general comment, and with a knowing look passing between them, Talut and Tulie allowed the outburst to run its course. Sometimes people needed to speak their minds. During the interruption, Tulie caught Barzec's eye and after things quieted down, he stepped forward and requested the Staff. Tulie nodded agreement, as though she knew what he was going to say although they had not spoken to each other.

"Crozie is right," he said, nodding toward her. She stood up straighter, accepting the acknowledgment, and her opinion of Barzec rose. "Babies do take room, much more room than one would think from their size. Perhaps it is time for some changes, but I don't think the Mammoth Hearth should give up space. The needs of the Crane Hearth are growing, but the needs of the Aurochs Hearth are less. Tarneg has gone to live at the Camp of his woman, and soon he will be starting a new Camp with Deegie. Then she will be gone, too. Therefore, the Hearth of the Aurochs, understanding the needs of a growing family, will give up some space to the Hearth of the Crane."

"Is that satisfactory to you, Frebec?" Talut asked.

"Yes," Frebec replied, hardly knowing how to respond to this unexpected turn of events.

"Then I will leave it to you to work out together how much space will be given by the Aurochs Hearth, but I think it is only fair that no changes be made until after Fralie has her baby. Do you agree?"

Frebec nodded, still overwhelmed. At his former Camp, he wouldn't have dreamed of asking for more space; if he had, he would have been laughed at. He didn't have the prerogative, the status, to make such requests. When the argument with Crozie began, space wasn't on his mind at all. He had just been groping for some way to respond to her stinging, though true, accusations. Now, he was convincing himself that lack of space had been the reason all along for the argument, and for once, she had taken his side. He felt the thrill of success. He had won a battle. Two battles: one with the Camp, one with Crozie. As the people dispersed, he saw Barzec talking with Tulie, and it occurred to him that he owed them thanks.

"I appreciate your understanding," Frebec said to the headwoman and the man of the Aurochs Hearth.

Barzec made the customary disclaimers, but they would not have been pleased if Frebec had failed to acknowledge the accommodation made to him. They knew full well the value of their concession went far beyond a few feet of space. It announced that the Crane Hearth had the status to merit such a grant from the hearth of the headwoman, though it was the status of Crozie and Fralie that they had in mind when Tulie and Barzec had previously discussed a shift in boundary between themselves. They had already anticipated the changing needs of the two families. Barzec had even considered bringing up the issue earlier, but Tulie suggested they wait for a more appropriate moment, perhaps as a gift for the baby.

They both knew this was the moment. It had taken no more than looks and nods to signal each other. And since Frebec had just won a nominal victory, the Crane Hearth was bound to be conciliatory about adjusting the boundary. Barzec had just been remarking with pride how wise Tulie was when Frebec approached to make his thanks. As Frebec walked back to the Crane Hearth, he savored the incident, tallying up the points he felt he had won, just as though it had been one of the games the Camp liked to play, and he was counting his winnings.

In a very real sense, it was a game, the very subtle and entirely serious game of comparative rank which is played by all social animals. It is the method by which individuals arrange themselves – horses in a herd, wolves in a pack, people in a community – so that they can live together. The game pits two opposing forces against each other, both equally important to survival: individual autonomy and community welfare. The object is to achieve dynamic equilibrium.

At times and under certain conditions individuals can be nearly autonomous. An individual can live alone and have no worry about rank, but no species can survive without interaction between individuals. The ultimate price would be more final than death. It would be extinction. On the other hand, complete individual subordination to the group is just as devastating. Life is neither static nor unchanging. With no individuality, there can be no change, no adaptation and, in an inherently changing world, any species unable to adapt is also doomed.

Humans in a community, whether it is as small as two people or as large as the world, and no matter what form the society takes, will arrange themselves according to some hierarchy. Commonly understood courtesies and customs can help to smooth the friction and ease the stress of maintaining a workable balance within this constantly changing system. In some situations most individuals will not have to compromise much of their personal independence for the welfare of the community. In others, the needs' of the community may demand the utmost personal sacrifice of the individual, even to life itself. Neither is more right than the other, it depends on the circumstances; but neither extreme can be maintained for long, nor can a society last if a few people exercise their individuality at the expense of the community.

Ayla often found herself comparing Clan society with that of the Mamutoi, and began to get a glimmer of this principle as she thought about the different styles of leadership of Brun and the Lion Camp's headman and headwoman. She saw Talut return the Speaking Staff to its customary place and recalled that when she first arrived at the Mamutoi Camp, she thought that Brun was a better leader than Talut. Brun would have simply made a decision and the others would have followed his order, whether they liked it or not. Not many would even consider questioning whether they liked it or not. Brun never had to argue or shout. A sharp look or a curt command brought instant attention. It had seemed to her that Talut had no control over the noisy, contentious people, and that they had no respect for him.

Now she wasn't so sure. It seemed to her that it was more difficult to lead a group of people who believed everyone, woman and man, had the right to speak out and be listened to. She still thought Brun had been a good leader for his society, but she wondered if he could have led these people who aired their views so freely. It could become very loud and noisy when everyone had an opinion and did not hesitate to make it known, but Talut never allowed it to go beyond certain bounds. Though he was certainly strong enough to have forced his will on people, he chose to lead by consensus and accommodation instead. He had certain sanctions and beliefs to call upon, and techniques of his own to get attention, but it took a different kind of strength to persuade rather than coerce. Talut gained respect by giving respect.

As Ayla walked toward a knot of people standing near the firepit, she glanced around the hearth looking for the wolf puppy. It was a subliminal gesture, and when she didn't see him she assumed he had found some place to hide during the commotion.

"…Frebec certainly got his way," Tornec was saying, "thanks to Tulie and Barzec."

"For Fralie's sake, I'm glad," Tronie said, relieved to know the Reindeer Hearth would not be pushed over or squeezed. "I just hope it will keep Frebec quiet for a while. He really started a big fight this time."

"I don't like big fights like that," Ayla said, remembering that the fight had started over Frebec's complaint that her animals had more room than he did.

"Don't let it bother you," Ranec said. "It's been a long winter. Something like that happens around this time every year. It's just a little diversion to create some excitement."

"But he wouldn't have had to make such a fuss to get more room," Deegie said. "I heard mother and Barzec talking about it long before he brought it up. They were going to give space to the Crane Hearth as a gift for Fralie's baby. All Frebec needed to do was ask."

"That's why Tulie is such a good headwoman," Tronie said. "She thinks of things like that."

"She is good, and so is Talut," Ayla said.

"Yes, he is." Deegie smiled. "That's why he is still headman. No one stays leader for long if he can't command the respect of his people. I think Branag will be as good. He had Talut to learn from." The warm feelings between Deegie and her mother's brother went deeper than the formal avuncular relationship that, along with the status and inheritance from her mother, assured the young woman of a high standing among the Mamutoi.

"But who would become leader instead, if Talut didn't have respect?" Ayla asked. "And how?"

"Well… ah…" Deegie began. Then the young people turned to Mamut to answer her question.

"If it is the old former leaders turning over active leadership to a younger brother and sister, who have been selected – usually relatives – there is a period of learning, then a ceremony, then the older leaders become advisers," the shaman and teacher said.

"Yes. That's what Brun did. When he was younger, he respected old Zoug and paid attention to his advice, and when he got older, he turned the leadership over to Broud, the son of his mate. But what happens if a Camp loses respect for a leader? A young leader?" Ayla asked, very interested.

"The change would not happen quickly," Mamut said, "but people just would not turn to him after a while. They would go to someone else, someone who could lead a more successful hunt, or handle problems better. Sometimes the leadership is relinquished, sometimes a Camp just breaks up, with some going with the new leader, and some staying with the old. But leaders don't usually give up their positions or authority easily, and that can cause problems, even fights. Then the decision would get turned over to the Councils. The headman or headwoman who has shared leadership with someone who causes trouble, or is held responsible for a problem, is seldom able to start up a new Camp, though it may not be her" – Mamut hesitated, and Ayla noticed that his eyes darted toward the old woman of the Crane Hearth, who was talking to Nezzie – "that person's fault. People want leaders they can depend on, and distrust those who have had problems… or tragedies."

Ayla nodded, and Mamut knew she understood, both what he had said and what he had implied. The conversation continued, but Ayla's mind had wandered back to the Clan. Brun had been a good leader, but what would his clan do if Broud was not? She wondered if they would turn to a new leader, and who it might be. It would be a long time before the son of Broud's mate was old enough. A persistent worry that had been nagging for her attention suddenly broke through.

"Where's Wolf?" she said.

She hadn't seen him since the argument, and no one else had either. Everyone started looking. Ayla searched her bed platform, and then every other corner of the hearth, even the curtained-off area with the basket of ashes and horse dung, which she had shown the pup. She was beginning to feel the same panic that a mother feels when her child is missing.

"Here he is, Ayla!" she heard Tornec say, with relief, but she felt her stomach churn when he added, "Frebec has him." Her surprise bordered on shock as she watched him approach. She was not the only one who stared in amazed disbelief.

Frebec, who never overlooked an opportunity to derogate Ayla's animals, or her, for her association with them, was cradling the wolf puppy gently in his arms. He handed the wolf over to her, but she noticed a moment of hesitation, as though he gave up the small creature reluctantly, and she saw a softer look in his eyes than she had ever seen there before.

"He must have gotten scared," Frebec explained. "Fralie said suddenly he was there, at the hearth, whining. She didn't know where he came from. Most of the children were there, too, and Crisavec picked him up and put him on a storage platform, near the head of his bed. But there's a deep niche in the wall there. It goes quite a way into the hillside. The wolf found it, and crawled all the way to the back, and then he wouldn't come out."

"It must have reminded him of his den," Ayla said.

"That's what Fralie said. It was too hard for her to go and get him, as big as she is, and I think she was afraid after hearing Deegie tell about you going into a wolf den. She didn't want Crisavec to go in after him, either. When I got there, I had to go in and get him out." Frebec paused then, and when he continued, Ayla heard a note of wonder in his voice. "When I reached him, he was so glad to see me, he licked me all over the face. I tried to get him to stop."

Frebec assumed a more detached and unconcerned manner to cover up the fact that he was obviously moved by the naturally winning ways of the frightened baby wolf. "But when I put him down, he cried and cried until I picked him up again." Several people had gathered around by then. "I don't know why he picked the Crane Hearth, or me, to run to when he was looking for a safe place."

"He thinks of the Camp as his pack now, and he knows you are a member of the Camp, especially after you brought him out of the den he found," Ayla replied, trying to reconstruct the circumstances.

Frebec had been feeling the flush of victory when he returned to his hearth, and something deeper that made him feel an unaccustomed warmth; a sense of belonging as an equal. They hadn't just ignored him or made fun of him. Talut always listened to him, just as though he had the status to warrant it, and Tulie, the headwoman herself, had offered to give him some of her space. Crozie had even sided with him.

A lump came in his throat when he saw Fralie, his very own, treasured, high-status woman who had made it all possible; his beautiful pregnant woman who would soon give birth to the first child of his own hearth, the hearth Crozie had given him, the Crane Hearth. He'd been annoyed when she told him the wolf was hiding in the niche, but the pup's eager acceptance of him, in spite of all his harsh words, surprised him. Even the new baby wolf welcomed him, and then would only be soothed by him. And Ayla said it was because the wolf knew he was a member of the Lion Camp. Even a wolf knew he belonged.

"Well, you better keep him here from now on," Frebec cautioned as he turned to go. "And watch out for him. If you don't, he could get stepped on."

After Frebec left, several of the people who had been standing around looked at each other in complete bewilderment.

"That was a change. I wonder what got into him?" Deegie said. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he actually likes Wolf."

"I didn't think he had it in him," Ranec said, feeling more respect than he ever had for the man of the Crane Hearth.