The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [311]
It was not the warmest welcome he had ever received. Jondalar detected a definite reservation and restriction. She was welcoming him “here,” to this place specifically, but this was a temporary location. He knew Feather Grass Camp referred to any summer hunting camp site. The Mamutoi were sedentary in the winter, and this group, like the rest, lived in a permanent encampment or community of one or two large or several smaller semisubterranean earthlodges, which they called Falcon Camp. She had not welcomed him there.
“I am Jondalar of the Zelandonii, I greet you in the name of the Great Earth Mother, whom we call Doni.”
“We do have extra sleeping places in the mamut’s tent,” Thurie continued, “but I don’t know about the … animals.”
“If you would not mind,” Jondalar said, if only for the sake of courtesy, “it would be easier for us to set up our own camp nearby, rather than stay within your Camp. We appreciate your hospitality, but the horses need to graze, and they know our tent and will return to it. They might be uneasy coming into your Camp.”
“Of course,” Thurie said, relieved. They would make her uneasy, too.
Ayla realized she needed to exchange welcomes, too. Wolf seemed less defensive, and Ayla tentatively relaxed her hold on him. I can’t sit here holding Wolf all the time, she thought. When she stood up, he started to jump up on her, but she motioned him down.
Without extending his hands or offering to come any closer, Rutan welcomed her to his Camp. She returned the greeting, in kind. “I am Ayla of the Mamutoi,” she said, then added, “of the Mammoth Hearth. I greet you in the name of Mut.”
Thurie added her welcome, hedging to restrict it to only this place, as she had done with Jondalar. Ayla responded formally. She wished more friendliness had been shown, but she supposed she couldn’t blame them. The concept of animals traveling willingly with people could be frightening. Not everyone would be as accepting as Talut had been of the strange innovation, Ayla realized, and with a pang, she felt the loss of the people she loved from Lion Camp.
Ayla turned to Jondalar. “Wolf is not feeling so protective now. I think he will mind me, but I should have something to restrain him while he’s around this Camp, and for later, to hold him back in case we meet other people,” she said in Zelandonii, not feeling able to speak freely around this Camp of Mamutoi, though wishing she could. “Maybe something like that rope guider you made for Racer, Jondalar. There’s a lot of spare rope and thongs in the bottom of one of my pack baskets. I am going to have to teach him not to go after strangers like that; he has to learn to stay where I want him to.”
Wolf must have understood that raising their spears was a threatening gesture. She could hardly blame him for springing to the defense of the people and horses that made up his strange pack. From his point of view, it was perfectly understandable, but that didn’t mean it was acceptable. He could not approach all the people they might meet on their Journey as though they were strange wolves. She would have to teach him to modify his behavior, to meet unknown people with more restraint. Even as the thought came to her, she wondered if there were other people who understood that a wolf would respond to the wishes of a woman, or that a horse would let a human ride on his back.
“You stay there with him. I’ll get the rope,” Jondalar said. Still holding on to Racer’s lead, though the young stallion had calmed down, he looked for the rope in Whinney’s pack baskets. The hostility of the Camp had abated somewhat, the people seemed hardly more guarded than they would be toward any strangers. From the way they were watching, their fear seemed to have been replaced by curiosity.
Whinney had settled down, too. Jondalar