The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [113]
She does seem to be learning Iza’s magic, Brun thought. And she’s learning to behave well, as a woman should; perhaps all she needed was a little maturity. If anything happens to Iza before Uba grows up, we will be without a medicine woman. Perhaps Iza is wise to train her.
Not long afterward, Ebra came and told her mate that Ovra’s son was stillborn. Brun nodded and glanced in her direction, shaking his head. And a boy, too, he thought. She must be heartbroken, everyone knows how much she wanted this baby. I hope she’ll have an easier time getting pregnant again. Who would think a Beaver totem could fight so hard? Though the leader felt a great pity for the young woman, he said nothing, for no one would mention the tragedy. But Ovra understood Brun’s reason for coming to Goov’s hearth a few days later to tell her she should take as long as she wanted to recuperate from her “illness.” Though the men often congregated at Brun’s fire, the leader seldom visited the other men’s hearths, and very rarely talked to the women if he did. Ovra was grateful for his concern, but nothing could ease her pain.
Iza insisted that Ayla continue to treat Brun, and as the scald healed, the clan accepted her even more. Ayla felt easier around the leader afterward. He was, after all, only human.
12
As the long winter ended, the tempo of the clan’s life increased to match the pace of life quickening within the rich earth. The cold season enforced not a true hibernation, but an alteration in metabolic rates brought about by reduced activities. In winter they were more sluggish, slept more, ate more, causing an insulating layer of subcutaneous fat to develop as protection against the cold. With a rise in temperature, the trend was reversed, making the clan restless and eager to be out and moving.
The process was assisted by Iza’s spring tonic, compounded of triticum roots, collected early in spring from the coarse grass that resembled rye, dried woodruff leaves, and iron-rich yellow dock root powder, administered universally to young and old alike by the clan’s medicine woman. With new vigor, the clan burst out of the cave ready to begin a new cycle of seasons.
The third winter in the cave had not been too hard on them. The only death was Ovra’s stillborn child, and that didn’t count because it had never been named and accepted. Iza, no longer drained by the demands of nursing a hungry baby, had weathered it well. Creb had suffered no more than usual. Both Aga and Ika were pregnant again, and since both women had given birth successfully before, the clan looked forward to its increase. The first greens, shoots, and buds were gathered and an early hunt planned to provide fresh meat for a spring feast to honor the spirits that awakened new life and to give thanks to the spirits of the clan’s protective totems for seeing them through another winter.
Ayla felt she had special reason to give thanks to her totem. The winter had been both trying and exciting. She grew to hate Broud even more intensely, but she learned she could cope with him. He had thrown his worst at her and she learned to take it in stride. There was a limit beyond which even Broud could not go. Learning more of Iza’s healing magic helped; she loved it. The more she learned, the more she wanted to learn. She found she was as eager to search out the medicinal plants for their own uses—now that she understood them better—as to use plant gathering as a means of escape. As long as the bitter winds and icy blizzards blew, she waited patiently. But with the first hints of change, restless anticipation set in. She looked forward to this spring more than any spring she could remember. It was time to learn to hunt.
As soon as the weather allowed, Ayla took to the woods and fields. She stopped hiding her sling in the small cave near her practice meadow. She kept it with her, tucked into a fold of her wrap or beneath a layer