The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [142]
No one ever used a sling to kill a hyena, anyway. He had been sure from the start that Broud’s attempt would be a futile gesture. Zoug always said it could be done, but privately Brun wasn’t sure. He had never contradicted the man; Zoug was still too valuable an asset to the clan, there was no point in belittling him. Well, Zoug had been proved right. Could a sling be used to kill a wolf or a lynx, too, as Zoug so stoutly maintained? Brun mused. Suddenly his eyes opened wide, then narrowed. A wolf or a lynx? Or a wolverine, or wildcat, or badger, or ferret, or a hyena! Brun’s mind raced. Or all the other predators that have been found dead lately?
“Of course!” Brun’s motion emphasized his thought. She did it! Ayla’s been hunting for a long time. How else could she have gained such skill? But she’s female, she learned the women’s skills easily, how could she learn to hunt? And why predators? And why such dangerous ones? And why at all?
If she were a man, she’d be the envy of every hunter. But she’s not a man. Ayla is female and she used a weapon and she must die for it or the spirits will be very angry. Angry? She’s been hunting for a long time, why aren’t they angry? They’re anything but angry. We just killed a mammoth in a hunt so lucky not one man was even injured. The spirits are pleased with us, not angry.
The confused leader shook his head. Spirits! I don’t understand spirits. I wish Mog-ur were here. Droog says she carries luck; I half think he’s right, things have never gone so well since we found her. If they favor her so much, would it make them unhappy if she was killed? But it’s the Clan way, he agonized. Why did she have to be found by my clan? She may be lucky, but she’s given me more headaches than I ever thought possible. I can’t make a decision without talking to Mog-ur. I’ll just have to let it wait until we get back to the cave.
Brun strode back to the camp. Ayla had given the boy painkilling medicine that put him to sleep, then cleaned his wounds with an antiseptic solution, set the arm, and put on a cast of dampened birch bark. It would dry stiff and hard and hold the bones in place. She’d have to watch it, though, in case it swelled too much. She watched Brun coming back from examining the hyena and trembled as he approached. But he walked past her without a sign, ignoring her completely, and she realized she would not learn her fate until they got back to the cave.
15
The seasons changed in reverse as the hunting party traveled south, from winter to fall. Threatening clouds and the smell of snow hurried their departure; they had no desire to be caught by the first real blizzard of the peninsula’s northern winter. The warmer weather at the southern end gave a false feeling of approaching spring, with an unsettling twist. Rather than new shoots and budding wild flowers, tall grass swayed in golden waves on the steppes, and the bloom of the temperate trees at the protected tip was in shades of crimson and amber patchworked with evergreen. But the view from the distance was deceiving. Most deciduous trees had dropped their leaves and the onslaught of winter was close behind.
It took longer to return than to reach the site of the mammoth herd. The fast, distance-devouring pace was impossible with their heavy loads. But Ayla was weighed down with more than mammoth. Guilt, anxiety, and depression were far heavier burdens. No one spoke of the incident, but it wasn’t forgotten. Often, her casual glance caught someone staring at her before they turned aside, quickly, and few spoke to her unless it was necessary. She felt isolated, lonely, and more than a little frightened. As little conversation as she had, it was enough for her to learn the penalty for her crime.
The people left behind at the cave had been watching for the return of the hunters. From the time of