Plains of Passage (106 page)

“I’ve got some good mammoth fat that I rendered out last fall,” Solandia said as they walked to the area of her enclosed dwelling space. “We had good luck hunting mammoth last year. That’s why we still have so much fat, and a good thing, too. It would have been a hard winter without it. I’ve started the fat melting.” They reached the entrance-way just as the children were running out, carrying the youngest. “Don’t lose Micheri’s mitts,” Solandia called out after them.

Verdegia and Madenia were already inside. “I brought some ashes,” Verdegia said. Madenia just smiled, a bit hesitantly.

Solandia was pleased to see her willing to get up out of bed and be around people again. Whatever they did at the hot spring, it seemed to have helped. “I put some cooking stones in the fire for tea. Madenia, would you make some for us?” she asked. “Then I’ll use the rest to reheat the water melting the fat.”

“Where do you want these ashes?” Verdegia asked.

“You can mix them with mine. I started them leaching, but not long ago.”

“Losaduna said you use fat and ashes,” Ayla commented.

“And water,” Solandia added.

“That seems to be a strange combination.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What made you decide to mix those things together? I mean, how did you come to make it? The first time?”

Solandia smiled. “It was really an accident. We had been hunting. I had a fire going outside in a fireplace with a deep pit, and some fat mammoth meat roasting over it. It started to rain, hard. I grabbed the meat, spit and all, and ran for cover. As soon as it let up, we headed back here to the cave, but I forgot a good wooden cooking bowl, and went back for it the next day. The fireplace was full of water, with something that looked like thick foamy scum floating on it. I would never have bothered with it, except I dropped a ladle in it and had to reach in and fish it out. I went to the stream to rinse it off. It felt smooth and slippery, like good soaproot, but more, and my hands got so clean! The ladle, too. All the grease washed off. I went back and put the foam in the bowl, and brought it back.”

“Is it that easy to make?” Ayla asked.

“No. It really isn’t. Not that it’s hard to make, but it does take some practice,” Solandia said. “The first time I was lucky. Everything must have been just right. I’ve been working with it ever since, but it still fails sometimes.”

“How do you make it? You must have developed some ways that work most of the time.”

“It’s not hard to explain. I melt clean rendered fat—any kind will work, but each one makes it a little different. I like mammoth fat best. Then I take wood ashes, mix them with warm water and let them soak for a little while. Then strain it through a mesh, or a basket with holes in the bottom. The mixture that leaches out is strong. It can sting or burn your skin, I found out. You need to rinse it off right away. Anyway, you stir the strong mixture into the fat. If you are lucky, you get a soft foam, that will clean anything, even leather.”

“But you’re not always lucky,” Verdegia said.

“No. Lots of things can go wrong. Sometimes you can stir and stir and stir, and it won’t mix. If that happens, heating it a little will sometimes help. Sometimes it separates and you get a layer that’s too strong and a layer that’s too greasy. Sometimes it curdles into lumps that are not quite mixed. Sometimes it comes out harder than others, but that’s not bad. It tends to harden as it ages, anyway.”

“But sometimes it does work, like the first time,” Ayla said.

“One thing I’ve learned is that both the fat and the liquid from the ashes have to be about the same warmth as the skin of your wrist,” Solandia said. “When you sprinkle a little on, it shouldn’t feel either cool or warm. The ash liquid is harder to tell because it’s strong and can burn a little, then you have to wash it off right away with cool water. If it burns too much, you know you need to add more water. It doesn’t burn too bad, usually, but I wouldn’t want to get it in my eyes. It can sting if you just get too close to the fumes.”

“And it can stink!” Madenia said.

“That’s true,” Solandia said. “It can stink. That’s why I usually go out into the middle of the cave to mix it, even though I get everything ready to mix here.”

“Mother! Mother! Come quick!” Solandia’s second daughter Neladia came dashing in, then ran out.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen to the baby?” the woman said, rushing out after her. Everyone else followed behind and ran to the mouth of the cave.

“Look!” Dosalia said. They all looked outside. “The baby is walking!”

There was Micheri, standing up beside the wolf, hanging on to his fur, with a big self-satisfied smile, taking unsteady steps as Wolf carefully and slowly moved forward. Everyone smiled with relief and then delight.

“Is that wolf smiling?” Solandia asked. “It looks to me as though he is. He seems to be so pleased with himself that he’s smiling.”

“I think he is, too,” Ayla said. “I have often thought he could smile.”

———

“It’s not only for ceremony, Ayla,” Losaduna was saying. “We often use the hot waters just to soak. If you want to take Jondalar in just to relax, we have no objections. The Sacred Waters of the Mother are like Her other Gifts to Her children. They are meant to be used and enjoyed, and appreciated. Just as this tea you made should be appreciated,” he added, holding up the cup.

Nearly the whole Cave, those that had not gone hunting, were sitting around a fireplace in the open central area of the cave. Most meals were very unstructured, except for special occasions. The people sometimes ate separately, in family groups, and sometimes with others. This time, those who had stayed at the cave had stopped for a midday meal and eaten together, largely because they were all interested in the visitors. The meal consisted of a hearty meat soup of lean, dried deer, made rich with the addition of some mammoth fat, which made it filing and satisfying enough. They were finished off with tea that Ayla had made, and all had remarked on how good it was.

“When they come back, maybe we will use the pool. I think he’d enjoy a hot soak, and I’d like to share it with him,” Ayla said.

“You’d better warn her, Losaduna,” a woman said, with a knowing smile. She had been introduced as Laduni’s mate.

“Warn me of what, Laronia?” Ayla said.

“Sometimes you have to choose between the Mother’s Gifts.”

“What do you mean?”

“She means the Sacred Waters can be too relaxing,” Solandia said.

“I still don’t understand,” Ayla said, frowning. She knew everyone was talking about the subject, and there was an element of humor involved.

“If you take Jondalar for a hot soak, it will relax the strength right out of his manhood,” Verdegia said, more direct than the others, “and it may take a couple of hours before it can stand up again. So don’t expect too much of him, after a soak. Not right away. Some men won’t soak in the Mother’s Sacred Waters for that reason. They are afraid their manhood will drain out in the Sacred Waters and never come back.”

“Can that happen?” Ayla asked, looking at Losaduna.

“Not that I’ve ever seen, or heard about,” the man said. “If anything, the opposite seems to be true. A man is more eager, after a while, but I think that’s because he’s relaxed and feels good.”

“I did feel wonderful after the hot soak, and I slept very well, but I think there was more than water to it,” Ayla said. “Perhaps the tea?”

The man smiled. “That was an important ritual. There is always more to a ceremony.”

“Well, I’m ready to go back to the Sacred Waters, but I think I’ll wait for Jondalar. Do you think the hunters will be back soon?”

“I’m sure they will,” Laronia said. “Laduni knows there are things to do before the Mother Festival tomorrow. I don’t think they would have gone today, except that he wanted to see how Jondalar’s long-range hunting weapon works. What does he call it?”

“A spear-thrower, and it works very well,” Ayla said, “but like anything, it takes practice. We’ve had lots of practice on this Journey.”

“Do you use his spear-thrower?” Madenia asked.

“I have my own,” Ayla said. “I’ve always liked to hunt.”

“Why didn’t you go with them today?” the girl asked.

“Because I wanted to learn how to make that cleansing material. And I have some clothes I want to clean and mend,” Ayla said, getting up and heading toward the ceremonial tent. Then she stopped. “I have something I’d like to show everyone, too,” she said. “Has anyone ever seen a thread-puller?” She saw puzzled looks and shaking heads. “If you wait here a moment, I’ll get mine and show you.”

Ayla returned from the dwelling space with her sewing kit and some clothing she wanted to repair. With everyone crowded around to see yet another amazing thing brought by the travelers, she took a small cylinder out of her kit—it had come from the lightweight, hollow leg of a bird—and shook two ivory needles out of it. She handed one to Solandia.

The woman examined the highly polished miniature shaft closely. It was brought to a sharp point at one end, somewhat like an awl. The other end was a bit thicker and, surprisingly, had a very small hole that went all the way through. She thought about it, and suddenly got an inkling of what it was for. “Did you say this was a thread-puller?” she said, handing it to Laronia.

“Yes. I’ll show you how I use it,” Ayla said, separating a thin piece of sinew from a fibrous thicker strand. She wet the end and smoothed it to a point, then waited for it to dry. The thread of tendon hardened slightly and held its shape. She threaded it through the hole at the back end of the tiny ivory shaft, then put it aside for the moment. Next she picked up a small flint tool with a sharp point and used it to poke holes near the edges of a garment whose stitches along a side seam had pulled out, a few of them tearing through the leather in the process. The new holes were back slightly from the previous ones.

Once she had made the holes for a new seam, Ayla settled down to demonstrate the new implement. She put the point of the ivory needle through the holes in the leather and, grasping the small shaft, pulled the thread through, ending with a flourish.

“Oooh!” The people seated nearby, especially the women, breathed
out a collective sigh. “Look at that!” “She didn’t have to pick the thread out, she pulled it right through.” “Can I try that?”

Ayla passed the garment around and let them experiment, explaining and showing, and telling them how the idea had come to her, and how everyone at Lion Camp had helped her to develop and make it.

“This is a very well-made awl,” Solandia commented, examining it closely.

“Wymez, of the Lion Camp, made it. He also made the borer that was used to make the hole that the thread goes through,” Ayla said.

“That would be a very difficult tool to make,” Losaduna said.

“Jondalar says Wymez is the only flint knapper he’s ever met who is as good as Dalanar, and, possibly, a little better.”

“That’s high praise from him,” Losaduna said. “Everyone acknowledges Dalanar as the master stoneworker. His skill is known even on this side of the glacier, among the Losadunai.”

“But Wymez is also a master.”

They all turned in surprise at the sound of the voice that had just spoken, and saw Jondalar, Laduni, and several others coming into the cave, bringing with them an ibex they had killed.

“You had luck!” Verdegia said. “And if no one minds, I’d like to have the skin. I’ve been wanting some ibex wool to make bedding for Madenia’s Matrimonial.” She wanted to get her bid in before anyone else.

“Mother!” Madenia said, embarrassed. “How can you talk about a Matrimonial?”

“Madenia must have First Rites before any Matrimonial can be considered,” Losaduna said.

“As far as I’m concerned, she can have the hide,” Laronia said, “whatever she wants to use it for.” She knew there was a touch of avarice in Verdegia’s request. They didn’t often hunt the elusive wild goat, and its wool was rare and therefore valuable, particularly in late winter after a whole season of growing thick and dense, but before the shedding of spring gave it a tattered look.

“I don’t care either. Verdegia can have it,” Solandia said. “Fresh ibex meat will be a welcome change no matter who gets the hide, and especially nice for the Mother Festival.”

Several others acquiesced, and no one objected. Verdegia smiled and tried not to look smug. By laying claim first, she had secured the valuable hide, just as she had hoped.

“Fresh ibex will be good with the dried onion I brought, and I have blueberries, too.”

Again everyone looked toward the mouth of the cave. Ayla saw a young woman she hadn’t met before, carrying a baby and leading a little girl by the hand, followed by a young man.

“Filonia!” several people chorused.

Laronia and Laduni rushed toward her, joined by all the rest of the Cave. The young woman was obviously not a stranger here. After happy hugs of greeting, Laronia took the baby, and Laduni picked up the little girl, who had run toward him, and put her up on his shoulders. She looked down at everyone with a pleased grin.

Jondalar was standing beside Ayla, smiling at the happy scene. “That girl could be my sister!” he said.

“Filonia, look who’s here,” Laduni said, leading the young woman toward them.

“Jondalar? Is it you?” she said, looking at him with shocked surprise. “I didn’t think you’d ever come back. Where’s Thonolan? There is someone I want him to meet!”

“I’m sorry, Filonia. He walks the next world now,” Jondalar said.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I wanted him to meet Thonolia. I’m sure she’s the child of his spirit.”

“I am sure, too. She looks just like my sister, and they were both born to the same hearth. I wish my mother could see her, but I think it will please her to know that there is something left of him in this world, a child of his spirit,” Jondalar said.

The young woman noticed Ayla. “But you didn’t return alone,” she said.

“No, he didn’t,” Laduni said, “and wait until you see some of his other traveling companions. You won’t believe it.”

“And you came at just the right time. We’re having a Mother Festival tomorrow,” Laronia said.