"Can't we build a cairn over it with the rocks from the fence?" Latie asked.
"We can, and we probably should, Latie. It's a good idea," Tulie said, preparing a load for herself that was so huge Ayla wondered how even she, as strong as she was, could carry it. "But we may not get back for it until spring, if the weather turns. If it was closer to the lodge, it would be better. Animals don't come around as much, and we could watch it, but out here in the open if something like a cave lion, or even a determined wolverine, really wants the meat, it will find a way to break in."
"Can't we pour water over it to freeze it solid? That would keep animals out. It's hard to break into a frozen cairn even with picks and mattocks," Deegie said.
"It would keep animals out, yes, but how do you keep the sun out, Deegie?" Tornec asked. "You can't be sure it will stay cold. It's too early in the season."
Ayla was listening, and watching the pile of bison parts dwindle as everyone packed as much as they could carry. She wasn't used to surplus, to having so much that one could pick and choose and take only the best. There had always been plenty of food to eat when she lived with the Clan, and more than enough hides for clothing, bedding, and other uses, but little was wasted. She wasn't sure how much would be left, but so much had already been thrown into the heap of scraps that it bothered her to think of leaving more, and it was obvious that no one else wanted to, either.
She noticed Danug pick up Tulie's axe and, wielding it as easily as the woman, chop a log in two and add it to the last fire left burning. She walked over to him.
"Danug," she said quietly. "Would help me?"
"Um… ah… yes," he stammered bashfully, feeling his face turn red. Her voice was so low and rich and her unusual accent was so exotic. She had caught him by surprise; he hadn't seen her coming, and standing close to the beautiful woman inexplicably flustered him.
"I need… two poles," Ayla said, holding up two fingers. "Young trees downstream. You cut for me?"
"Ah… sure. I'll cut down a couple of trees for you."
As they walked toward the bend in the small river, Danug felt more relaxed, but he kept glancing down at the blond head of the woman who walked at his side and just a half-step ahead. She selected two straight young alders of approximately the same width, and after Danug chopped them down, she directed him to strip off the branches and cut the tips so that they were of equal length. By then most of the big strapping youth's bashfulness had eased.
"What are you going to do with these?" Danug asked.
"I will show you," she said, then with a loud, imperative whistle, she called Whinney. The mare galloped toward her. Ayla had outfitted her earlier in harness and panniers in preparation for leaving. Though Danug thought it looked odd to see a leather blanket across the horse's back, and a pair of baskets tied to her sides with thongs, he noticed it didn't seem to bother the animal or slow her down.
"How do you get her to do that?" Danug asked.
"Do what?"
"Come to you when you whistle."
Ayla frowned, thinking. "I am not sure, Danug. Until Baby come, I am alone in valley with Whinney. She is only friend I know. She grow up with me, and we learn… each other."
"Is it true that you can talk to her?"
"We learn each other, Danug. Whinney not talk like you talk. I learn… her signs… her signals. She learn mine."
"You mean like Rydag's signs?"
"A little. Animals, people, all have signals, even you, Danug. You say words, signals say more. You speak when you not know you speak."
Danug frowned. He wasn't sure he liked the drift of the conversation. "I don't understand," he said, looking aside.
"Now we talk," Ayla continued. "Words not say, but signals say… you want ride horse. Is right?"
"Well… ah… yes, I'd like to."
"So… you ride horse."
"Do you mean it? Can I really have a ride on the horse? Like Latie and Druwez did?"
Ayla smiled. "Come here. Need big stone to help you get on first time."
Ayla stroked and patted Whinney, and talked to her in the unique language that had developed naturally between them: the combination of Clan signs and words, nonsense sounds she had invented with her son and imbued with meaning, and animal sounds which she mimicked perfectly. She told Whinney that Danug wanted a ride, and to make it exciting but not dangerous. The young man had learned some of the Clan signs that Ayla was teaching Rydag and the Camp, and was surprised that he could make out the meaning of a few that were part of her communication with the horse, but that only filled him with more awe. She did talk to the horse, but like Mamut when he was invoking spirits, she used a mystical, powerful, esoteric language.
Whether the horse understood explicitly or not, she did understand from Ayla's actions that something special was expected when the woman helped the tall young man on her back. To Whinney, he felt like the man she had come to know and trust. His long legs hung down low, and there was no sense of direction or control.
"Hold onto mane," Ayla instructed. "When you want to go, lean forward little. When you want slow or stop, sit up."
"You mean you're not going to ride with me?" Danug said, a touch of fear quaking his voice.
"Not need me," she said, then gave Whinney's flank a slap.
Whinney broke away with a sudden burst of speed. Danug jerked backward, then clutching her mane to pull forward, wrapped his arms around her neck and hung on for dear life. But when Ayla rode, leaning forward was a signal to go faster. The sturdy horse of the cold plains surged ahead down the level floodplain, which had by now become quite familiar, leaping logs and brush and avoiding exposed, jagged rock and occasional trees.
At first, Danug was so petrified he could only keep his eyes squeezed shut and hang on. But after he realized he hadn't fallen off, though he could feel the mare's powerful muscles as he bounced with her stride, he opened his eyes a slit. His heart beat with excitement as he watched trees and brush and the ground below pass by in a blur of speed. Still holding on, he lifted his head up to look around.
He could hardly believe how far he had come. The large outcrops flanking the stream were just ahead! Vaguely, he heard a shrill whistle far behind him, and immediately noticed a difference in the horse's pace. Whinney burst beyond the guarding rocks then, slowing only slightly, turned around in a wide circle and headed back. Though still hanging on, Danug was less fearful now. He wanted to see where they were going, and assumed a somewhat more upright position, which Whinney interpreted as a signal to slow a little.
The grin on Danug's face as the horse approached made Ayla think of Talut, especially when he was pleased with himself. She could see the man in the boy. Whinney pranced to a stop, and Ayla led her to the rock so Danug could get down. He was so ecstatic he could hardly speak, but he could not stop smiling. He had never considered riding fast on the back of a horse – it was beyond his imagination – and the experience went beyond his wildest expectations. He would never forget it.
His grin made Ayla smile every time she glanced at him. She attached the poles to Whinney's harness and when they returned to the campsite, he was still grinning.
"What's wrong with you?" Latie asked. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"I rode the horse," Danug answered. Latie nodded and smiled.
Nearly everything that could be taken away from the hunting site had been lashed to packboards, or wrapped in skins ready to be swung hammocklike from stout poles carried across the shoulders of two people. There were still haunches and rolled hides left, but not as much as Ayla thought there might be. As with hunting and butchering, more could be taken back to the winter camp when everyone worked together.