The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [109]
“What is good for burns, Ayla?”
“Let me think. Hyssop flowers mixed with goldenrod flowers and cone flowers, dried and powdered together in equal parts. Wet it and make it into a poultice, cover with a bandage. When it dries, wet it again with cold water poured on the bandage,” she finished in a rush, then paused to think. “And dried horsemint flowers and leaves are good for scalds; wet them in the hand and put them on the burn. Boiled roots of sweet rush make a wash for burns.”
“Good, anything else?”
The girl searched her mind. “Giant hyssop, too. Chew the fresh leaves and stalk for a poultice, or wet the dried leaves. And … oh, yes, boiled yellow-spined thistle blossoms. Put on as a wash after it’s cooled.”
“That’s good for skin sores, too, Ayla. And don’t forget that horsetail-fern ashes mixed with fat make a good burn ointment.”
Ayla began to do more of the cooking, too, under Iza’s direction. She soon took over the chore of preparing most of Creb’s meals, except, for her, it wasn’t a chore. She took pains to grind his grains especially fine before they were cooked to make it easier for him to chew with his worn teeth. Nuts, too, were chopped fine before she served them to the old man. Iza taught her to prepare the painkilling drinks and poultices that eased his rheumatism, and Ayla made a specialty of the remedies for that affliction of the older members of the clan, whose suffering invariably worsened with their confinement to the cold stone cave. That winter was the first time Ayla assisted the medicine woman, and their first patient was Creb.
It was midwinter. The heavy snowfalls had blocked the mouth of the cave several feet up. The insulating blanket of snow helped to keep the warmth from fires inside the large cavern, but the wind still whistled in through the large opening above the snow. Creb was unusually moody, vacillating from silence to grouchiness to apologetic repentance to silence again. His behavior confused Ayla, but Iza guessed the reason. Creb had a toothache, a particularly painful toothache.
“Creb, won’t you just let me look at the tooth?” Iza pleaded.
“It’s nothing. Just a toothache. Just a little pain. Don’t you think I can stand a little pain? Don’t you think I’ve had pain before, woman? What’s a little toothache?” Creb snapped.
“Yes, Creb,” Iza replied, head bowed. He was immediately contrite.
“Iza, I know you’re only trying to help.”
“If you’d let me look at it, I might be able to give you something for it. How can I know what to give you if you won’t let me see it?”
“What’s to see?” he motioned. “One bad tooth is the same as another. Just make me some willow-bark tea,” Creb grumbled, then sat on his sleeping fur gazing into space.
Iza shook her head and went to make the tea.
“Woman!” Creb shouted shortly afterward. “Where’s that willow bark? What’s taking you so long? How can I meditate? I can’t concentrate,” he gestured impatiently.
Iza hurried over with a bone cup, signaling Ayla to follow. “I was just bringing it, but I don’t think willow bark is going to be much help, Creb. Just let me look at it.”
“All right. All right, Iza. Look.” He opened his mouth and pointed at the offending tooth.
“See how deep the black hole goes, Ayla? The gum is swelling, it’s decayed through. I’m afraid it will have to come out, Creb.”
“Come