The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [174]
There was one subject Iza never brought up. Most young women, by the time they became women, usually had their eye on a particular young man. Though neither a girl nor her mother had any direct say in the matter, the mother, if she was on good terms with her mate, could tell him of her daughter’s wishes. The mate, if he chose, could make them known to the leader, with whom the decision rested. If there were no other considerations, and especially if the young man in question had shown an interest in the girl, the leader might let the young woman’s wishes prevail.
Not always, certainly not in Iza’s case, but the subject of mates never came up between Iza and Ayla, though it was usually one of great interest to a nubile young woman and her mother. There were no young unmated men in the clan, and Iza was sure if there had been, they would not have wanted Ayla any more than any man in the clan wanted her as a second woman. And Ayla herself had no interest in any of them. She hadn’t even thought about a mate until Iza brought up the subject of a mated woman’s responsibilities. But she thought about it later.
On a sunny spring morning not long after she returned, Ayla went to fill a waterbag at the spring-fed pool near the cave. No one else was out yet. She knelt down and bent over, ready to dip the bag in, then suddenly stopped. The morning sun slanting across the still water gave it a mirrorlike surface. Ayla stared at the strange face looking at her out of the pool; she had not seen a reflection of herself before. Most water near the cave was in the form of running streams or creeks, and she didn’t usually look in the pool until after she had dipped in the container she wanted to fill, disturbing the tranquil surface.
The young woman studied her own face. It was somewhat square with a well-defined jaw, modified by cheeks still rounded with youth, high cheekbones and a long, smooth neck. Her chin had the hint of a cleft, her lips were full, and her nose straight and finely chiseled. Clear, blue gray eyes were outlined with heavy lashes a shade or two darker than the golden hair that fell in thick soft waves to well below her shoulders, glimmering with highlights in the sun. Eyebrows, the same shade as her lashes, arched above her eyes on a smooth, straight, high forehead without the slightest hint of protruding brow ridges. Ayla backed stiffly away from the pool and ran into the cave.
“Ayla, what’s wrong?” Iza motioned. It was obvious something was troubling her daughter.
“Mother! I just looked in the pool. I’m so ugly! Oh, mother, why am I so ugly?” was her impassioned response. She burst into tears in the woman’s arms. For as long as she could remember, Ayla had never seen anyone except people of the clan. She had no other