The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [285]
“All right, let’s go,” Joharran said, “but keep together.”
The twelve hunters from the Third Cave and the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii started out together walking directly toward the pride of massive felines. They were armed with spears, tipped with sharpened flint, or bone or ivory sanded to a smooth, round sharp point. Some had spear-throwers that could propel a spear much farther and with more power and speed than one thrown by hand, but lions had been killed with just spears before. This might be a test of Jondalar’s weapon, but it would test the courage of the ones who were hunting even more.
“Go away!” Ayla shouted as they started out. “We don’t want you here!”
Several others picked up the refrain, with variations, shouting and yelling at the animals as they approached, telling them to go away.
At first the cats, young and old, just watched them come. Then some began to move around, back into the grass that hid them so well, and out again, as though they weren’t sure what to do. The ones who retreated with cubs returned without them.
“They don’t seem to know what to make of us,” Thefona said from the middle of the advancing hunters, feeling a little more secure than when they started, but when the big male suddenly snarled at them, everyone jumped with a start, and stopped in their tracks.
“This is not the time to stop,” Joharran said, forging ahead.
They started out again, their formation a little more ragged at first, but they pulled together again as they continued on. All the lions started moving around, some turning their backs and disappearing into the tall grass, but the big male snarled again, then rumbled the beginning of a roar as he stood his ground. Several of the other big cats were arrayed behind him. Ayla was picking up the scent of fear from the human hunters, she was sure the lions were, too. She was afraid herself, but fear was something that people could overcome.
“I think we’d better get ready,” Jondalar said. “That male doesn’t look happy, and he has reinforcements.”
“Can’t you get him from here?” Ayla asked. She heard the series of grunts that was usually a precursor to a lion’s roar.
“Probably,” Jondalar said, “but I’d rather be closer, so I can be more sure of my aim.”
“And I’m not sure how good my aim would be from this distance. We do need to be closer,” Joharran said, continuing to march forward.
The people bunched together and kept going, still shouting, though Ayla thought their sound was more tentative as they drew closer. The cave lions became still and seemed tense as they watched the approach of the strange herd that didn’t behave like prey animals.
Then, suddenly, everything happened at once.
The big male lion roared, a staggering, deafening sound, especially from such close range. He started toward them at a run. As he closed in, poised to spring, Jondalar hurled his spear at him.
Ayla had been watching the female on his right. About the time that Jondalar made his cast, the lioness bounded forward running, then vaulted to pounce.
Ayla pulled back and took aim. She felt the back of the spear-thrower with the spear mounted on it rise up almost without her knowing it as she hurled her spear. It was so natural for her, it didn’t feel like a deliberate move. She and Jondalar had used the weapon during their entire year-long Journey back to the Zelandonii and she was so skilled, it was second nature.
The lioness soared into her leap, but Ayla’s spear met her more than halfway. It found its mark from beneath the big cat, and lodged firmly in her throat in a sudden fatal slash. Blood spurted out as the lioness collapsed to the ground.
The woman quickly grabbed another spear