been talking about how useful the horses can be in driving animals into surrounds. I think he's counting on us to help. How do we decide which one to do?'
'If she doesn't want to go too far, maybe we could do both,' Ayla said. She wanted to go with the First to visit sacred sites, but she also loved to hunt.
'Perhaps,' Jondalar said. 'Maybe we should talk to both Joharran and Zelandoni and let them decide. But in any case, we could go ahead and make a pole-drag seat for Zelandoni. When we were making the summer shelter for Bologan and Lanoga and the rest of that family, I noticed some trees that I thought might work.'
'When do you think would be a good time to make it?'
'This afternoon, perhaps. I'll ask around to see if I can get a few people to help,' Jondalar said.
'Greetings, Ayla and Jondalar,' a familiar young voice said. It was Lanoga's younger sister, nine-year Trelara.
They both turned around and saw all six of the children coming out of their summer shelter. Bologan tied the opening flap closed, then caught up with them. Neither Tremeda nor Laramar was with them. Ayla knew the adults used the shelter sometimes, but they either had left earlier or, more likely, had not returned the night before. Ayla thought the children were probably heading to the Meeting Camp, hoping to find something to eat. People often made too much food and someone was usually willing to give them the leftovers. They may not always have received the choicest selection, but they seldom went hungry.
'Greetings, children,' Ayla said.
They all smiled at her except Bologan, who tried to be more serious. When she first became familiar with the family, Ayla knew that Bologan, the eldest, stayed away from home as often as he could, preferring to associate with other boys, especially those who were more rowdy. But lately, it seemed to her, he was becoming more responsible toward the younger children, especially his brother, Lavogan, who was a seven-year. And she'd seen him several times with Lanidar lately, which she thought was a good sign. Bologan walked up to Jondalar, rather diffidently.
'Greetings, Jondalar,' he said, looking down at his feet before raising his eyes to meet the man's.
'Greetings, Bologan,' Jondalar said, wondering why he had been approached.
'Can I ask you something?' Bologan said.
'Of course.'
The boy reached into a pocket-like fold of his tunic and pulled out a colourful manhood belt. 'Zelandoni talked to me yesterday, then gave this to me. She showed me how to tie it, but I can't seem to make it look right,' he said.
Well, he was a thirteen-year now, Ayla thought as she fought back a smile. He hadn't specifically asked Jondalar for help, but the tall man knew what he wanted. Typically it was the man of a boy's hearth who gave him his manhood belt, usually made by his mother. Bologan was asking Jondalar to stand in for the man who should have been there for him.
Jondalar showed the young man how to tie the belt, then Bologan called to his brother and started out toward the main camp; the others followed behind more slowly. Ayla watched them go, thirteen-year Bologan walking beside seven-year Lavogan, eleven-year Lanoga, with Lorala, one-year plus a half, on her hip, and nine-year Trelara holding the hand of three-year Ganamar. She remembered being told that one who would have been a five- year had died in infancy. Though she and Jondalar helped them, and several others from the Ninth Cave as well, the children were essentially raising themselves. Neither their mother nor the man of their hearth paid much attention to them, and did little to support them. She believed it was Lanoga who held them together, though now, she was glad to see, Trelara was helping her and Bologan was more involved.
She felt Jonayla moving in her carrying blanket, waking up. She pulled it around from her back to her front, and took the baby out of it. She was naked, with no absorbent padding. Ayla held her out in front of her while the child wet on the ground. Jondalar smiled. None of the other women did that, and when he asked her, Ayla told him that was how Clan mothers often took care of their children's wetting. Though she didn't do it all the time, it certainly saved time cleaning up messes and gathering materials that could soak up liquid. And Jonayla was getting so used to it, she tended to wait until she was out before she let go.
'Do you think Lanidar is still interested in Lanoga?' Jondalar asked, obviously thinking about Tremeda's children, too.
'He certainly gave her a warm smile when he first saw her this year,' Ayla said. 'How is he doing with the spear-thrower? He looks to me as though he's been practising with his left arm.'
'He's good!' Jondalar said. 'Actually, it's amazing to watch him. He has some use of his right arm, and uses it to help place the spear on the thrower, but he throws with great force and accuracy with his left arm. He's become quite a hunter and has gained the respect of his Cave, and more status. Now everyone at this Summer Meeting is looking at him with new eyes. Even the man of his hearth, who left his mother after he was born, has been showing an interest in him. And his mother and grandmother are no longer insisting that he go berry-picking and food- collecting with them all the time for fear he won't be able to support himself any other way. They made that harness he wears, but he told them what he wanted. They give you credit for teaching him, you know.'
'You taught him, too,' she said; then after a while she added, 'He may have become a good hunter, but I still doubt that most mothers would want him to mate their daughters. They would be afraid that the bad spirit that deformed his arm is still hovering and might give their daughter's children the same problem. When he said last year that he wanted to mate Lanoga when they grew up, and help her raise her sisters and brothers, Proleva said she thought that would be a perfect pairing. Since Laramar and Tremeda have the lowest status, no mother would want her son to mate with her, but I don't think anyone would put up much objection to Lanidar mating Lanoga, especially if he's a good hunter.'
'No. But I'm afraid Tremeda and Laramar will find a way to take advantage of him,' Jondalar said. 'I notice Lanoga isn't ready for First Rites, yet.'
'But she will be soon. She's beginning to show signs. Maybe before the summer is over, the last First Rites ceremony of the season. Have they asked you to assist with First Rites this summer?' she asked, trying to seem unconcerned.
'Yes, but I told them I wasn't ready to take on that responsibility yet,' he said, grinning at her. 'Why? Do you think I should?'
'Only if you want to. There are some young women who might be very happy if you did. Perhaps even Lanoga,' Ayla said, turning to look at Jonayla so he wouldn't see her face.
'Not Lanoga!' he said. 'That would be like sharing First Rites with the child of my own hearth!'
She turned and smiled at him. 'You are probably closer to it than the man who is,' Ayla said. 'You've provided more for that family than Laramar has.'
They were approaching the main camp and people had started calling greetings to them. 'Do you think it will take very long to make a pole-drag with a seat?' Ayla asked.
'If I can get some help and we start soon, maybe later this morning, we can probably have it done by afternoon,' he said. 'Why?'
'Then should I ask her if she would have time to try it this afternoon? She said that was what she wanted to do before she used it in front of other people.'
'Go ahead and ask her. I'll ask Joharran and some others to help. I'm sure we'll get it done.' Jondalar grinned. 'It will be interesting to see how people react when they see her riding behind the horses.'
Jondalar was working on cutting down a straight, sturdy sapling that was a good deal thicker than the size they usually selected for a travois. The stone axe-head he was using had been shaped so that the thicker top was tapered up to a kind of point, and the cutting end knapped into a narrow thinning cross-section with a sharp, rounded bottom edge. The wooden handle had a hole gouged all the way through in one end into which the tapered top of the axe-head could fit. It was affixed in such a way that each time a blow was struck, the axe-head would wedge more firmly into the hole of the handle. The two pieces were firmly lashed together with wet rawhide that shrank and pulled tighter as it dried.
A stone axe was not strong enough to cut straight across the trunk of a tree; the flint would shatter and break if used in that way. To fell a tree with such a tool, the cuts needed to be made at an angle, whittling down the tree until it broke apart. The stump often looked as though it had been chewed down by a beaver. Even then, stone chips usually spalled off the axe-blade, so that it needed constant resharpening. This could be done by using a carefully controlled hammerstone, or pointed bone punch hit by a hammerstone, to remove narrow slivers of stone
