Mammoth Hunters (62 page)

“Oh, Deegie, Ayla said, smiling back with warmth and affection. “You brought them!” The two young women hugged each other out of their fullness of love and friendship.

“One thing is certain, Ayla. Nothing is ever dull around you!” Deegie helped load Ayla’s haversack with the ermine. “What are you going to do about the wolf? If we don’t take her, something else will, and a black wolf pelt is not too common.”

“I’d like to take her, but I want to find her pups, first.”

“All right, I’ll carry her,” Deegie said, hoisting the limp carcass over her shoulder. “If we have time later, I’ll skin it out.” She started to ask one more question, then changed her mind. She’d find out soon enough exactly what Ayla planned to do if she found any wolf pups left alive.

They had to go back to the vale to pick up the correct set of tracks. The wolf had done a good job of covering her trail, knowing how precarious was the life she was leaving untended. Several times, Deegie was sure they’d lost it and she was a good tracker herself, but Ayla was motivated to persist until she found it again. By the time they had found the place that Ayla was sure was the den, the sun was showing late afternoon.

“I have to be honest, Ayla. I don’t see any signs of life.”

“That’s the way it should be if they are alone. If there were signs of life, it would just invite trouble.”

“You might be right, but if there are pups in there, how are you going to get them to come out?”

“I guess there is only one way. I’ll have to go in after them.”

“You can’t do that, Ayla! It’s one thing to watch wolves
from a distance, but you can’t go into their dens. What if there are more than pups? There could be another adult wolf around.”

“Have you seen any other adult tracks besides the black’s?”

“No, but I still don’t like the idea of you going into a wolf’s den.”

“I haven’t come this far to go away without finding out if there are any wolf pups around. I have to go in, Deegie.”

Ayla put down her haversack and headed for the small dark hole in the ground. It was dug out of an old lair, abandoned long before because it was not the most favorable location, but it was the best the black wolf could find after her mate, an old lone wolf drawn to her too-early heat, died in a fight. Ayla got down on her belly, and started to wriggle in.

“Ayla, wait!” Deegie called. “Here, take my knife.”

Ayla nodded, put the knife in her teeth, and started into the dark hole. It sloped downward at first, and the passage was narrow. Suddenly she found herself stuck and had to back out.

“We better go, Ayla. It’s getting late, and if you can’t get in, you can’t get in.”

“No,” she said, pulling her parka off over her head. “I’ll get in.”

She shivered with the cold until she was inside the den, but it was a tight fit through the first tunnel section, where it sloped down. Near the bottom, where it leveled out, there was more room, but the den seemed deserted. With her own body still blocking the light, it took awhile for her eyes to become accustomed to the darkness, but it wasn’t until she started to back out that she thought she heard a sound.

“Wolf, little wolf, are you here?” she called, then remembering the many times she had watched and listened to wolves, she voiced a pleading whine. Then she listened. A tiny soft whimper came from the deepest, dark recess of the den, and Ayla felt like shouting for joy.

She wormed her way closer to the sound, and whined again. The whimper was closer, and then she saw two shining eyes, but when she reached for the pup, he backed up and hissed a little snarl, and she felt sharp needle teeth bite her hand.

“Ow! You’ve got some fight in you,” Ayla said, and then smiled; “some life in you, yet. Come on now, little wolf. It’s going to be all right. Come on.” She reached for the wolf pup
again, making her pleading whine, and felt a fuzzy ball of fur. Getting a good hold, she pulled the pup, spitting and fighting all the way, toward her. Then she backed up out of the den.

“Look what I found, Deegie!” Ayla said, grinning triumphantly as she held up a little gray fuzzy wolf puppy.

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.