The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [263]
He liked the attention he got as he strutted with a sling draped through the cord around his waist-all he wore in summer besides his amulet—and a spear in his hand. Grev had to have small weapons, too. The pair of them brought glimmers of amusement to the eyes of the clan, and comments about what fine little men they were. Their future role was already being defined. When Durc discovered that imperious bossiness to little girls was approved, and even benignly condoned toward grown women, he never hesitated to push to the limits allowed—except with his mother.
Durc knew his mother was different. Only she laughed with him, only she played the game of sounds with him, only she had the soft golden hair he loved to touch. He could never remember her nursing him, but he would sleep with no one else. He knew she was a woman because she answered to the same motion as the other women. But she was much taller than any man, and she hunted. He wasn’t exactly sure what hunting was, except men did it—and his mother. She fit into no category; she was woman and not woman, man and not man. She was unique. The name he had begun to call her, the name made with sounds, seemed to suit her best. She was Mama; and Mama, the golden-haired goddess he adored, did not nod approvingly when he attempted to boss her.
Ayla put Durc’s little sling in his hands, and holding hers over his, tried to show him how to use it. Zoug had done the same thing, and he was beginning to get the idea. Then she took her sling from her waist thong, found some pebbles, and hurled them at nearby objects. When she set small stones on larger boulders and proceeded to knock them off again, Durc thought it was funny. He toddled over with more stones to see her do it again. After a while he lost interest, and she went back to gathering plants while Durc followed after her. They found some raspberries and stopped to eat them.
“You are a mess, my sticky son,” Ayla motioned, laughing at him with red juice on his face, hands, and round belly. She picked him up, tucked him under one arm, and carried him to a creek to wash him. Then she found a large leaf, folded it into a cone, and filled it with water for Durc and her to drink. Durc yawned and rubbed his eyes. She spread her carrying cloak out on the ground in the shade of a large oak, and lay down beside him until he fell asleep.
In the quiet of the summer afternoon, Ayla sat with her back against the tree watching butterflies flitting then coming to rest with folded-back wings and insects buzzing in perpetual motion, and listened to a twittering symphony of chirping birds. Her mind wandered back to the events of the morning. I hope Uba will be happy with Vorn, she thought. I hope he’s good to her. It’s so empty with her gone, even if she isn’t far away. It’s just not the same. She’ll be cooking for her mate now, and sleeping with him after the isolation. I hope she has a baby soon, that would make her happy.
But what about me? No one has ever come from that clan to ask about me. Maybe they just can’t find our cave. I don’t think they were all that interested, anyway. I’m glad. I don’t want to mate a man I don’t know. I don’t even want any of the ones I do know, and none of them want me. I’m too tall; even Droog barely reaches my chin. Iza used to wonder if I would ever stop growing. I’m beginning to wonder myself. Broud hates it. He can’t stand having a woman around taller than he is. But he hasn’t bothered me at all since we got back from the Clan Gathering. Why does it make me shudder every time he looks at me?
Brun’s getting old. Ebra’s been getting medicine for his sore muscles and stiff joints lately. He’s going to make Broud leader soon. I know it. And Goov is going to be mog-ur. He’s doing more of the ceremonies all the time. I don’t think Creb wants to be mog-ur anymore, not since that time I watched them. Why did I go into the cave that night? I don’t even remember how I got there. I wish I had never gone to the Clan Gathering. If I hadn’t gone, I might have kept Iza alive for a few more