The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [114]
Through trial and error she learned to track and began to understand and apply the bits of hunting lore gleaned from the men. Her eye was already trained to pick up small details that differentiated plants, and it took only an extension to learn to define the meaning in the telltale droppings of an animal, a faint print in the dust, a bent blade of grass or a broken twig. She learned to distinguish the spoor of different animals, became familiar with their habits and habitats. Though she didn’t overlook the herbivorous species, she concentrated on the carnivores, her chosen prey.
She watched to see which way the men went when they left to go hunting. But it was not Brun and his hunters that gave her the most concern. More often than not they chose the steppes as their hunting ground, and she didn’t dare try to hunt the open plains with no cover. It was the two older men she worried about most. She had seen Zoug and Dorv occasionally when she was foraging for Iza in the past. They were the ones she was most likely to find hunting the same terrain as herself. She had to be constantly on her guard to avoid them. Even starting out in the opposite direction was no guarantee they wouldn’t double back and catch her with a sling in her hands.
But as she learned to move silently, she sometimes followed them to watch and learn. She was especially careful then. It was more dangerous for her to track the trackers than the objects of their pursuit. It was good training, however. She learned to move noiselessly as much from following the men as from trailing an animal, and could melt into a shadow if one happened to glance her way.
As Ayla gained skill tracking, learned to move with stealth, trained her eye to discern a shape within its camouflaged cover, there were times when she was sure she could have hit a small animal. Though she was tempted, if it was not carnivorous she passed it by without trying. She had made her decision to hunt only predators, and her totem sanctioned only those. Spring buds became blossoms and leafed out the trees, blossoms fell and fruits swelled from their hearts, hanging half-grown and green, and still Ayla had not killed her first animal.
“Get out! Shoo! Scat!”
Ayla started out of the cave to see what the commotion was about. Several women were waving their arms and chasing after a short, squat, shaggy animal. The wolverine headed toward the cave but veered aside with a snarl when it saw Ayla. It dodged between the women’s legs and escaped with a strip of meat in its jaws.
“That sneaky glutton! I just put that meat out to dry,” Oga gesticulated in angry frustration. “I hardly turned my back. He’s been hanging around here all summer, getting braver every day. I wish Zoug would get him! It’s a good thing you were just coming out, Ayla. He almost ran into the cave. Think what a stink he would have left if he’d gotten cornered in there!”
“I think your he is a she, Oga, and probably has a nest somewhere nearby. I’d guess she has several hungry babies that must be getting pretty big by now.”
“That’s all we need! A bunch of them.” Angry words punctuated her gestures. “Zoug and Dorv took Vorn with them early this morning. I wish they’d gone hunting for that wolverine instead of hamsters and ptarmigan down below. Gluttons are good for nothing!”
“They’re good for something, Oga. Their fur doesn’t frost up from your breath in winter. Their pelts make good hats and hoods.”
“I wish that one were a pelt!”
Ayla started back to the hearth. There was really nothing she had to do then, and Iza did say she was running low on a few