The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [101]
About then Jonayla decided it was her turn. She let out a hungry wail. Ayla took her out of her carrying blanket and held her out in front to pass her water on the ground. When she was through, Ayla propped her up on Gray’s back for a moment, holding her with one hand while she straightened out the carrying blanket and exposed a breast with the other hand. Soon the infant was wrapped up again, held close to her mother, happily nursing.
On the way back, they made a detour around the enclosure, knowing that the horses would never go into it again. Ayla thought that she would get rid of the leopard carcass later and she wasn’t sure about the enclosure. At the moment she never wanted to put the horses in one again and would be happy to give the wooden poles and planks to whoever wanted them, for firewood if nothing else. When they reached their lodge, they led the horses around to an area on the back side of the summer dwelling that was used infrequently, where some grass still grew.
“Should we put a halter on them and tie them to a ground stake?” Jondalar said. “It would keep them close by.”
“I think it would upset Whinney, and Racer, after their scare, if they couldn’t run freely. For now I think they will want to stay close, unless something scares them again, and we’d hear them. I think I’m going to leave Wolf out here to guard them, at least for tonight.” She went to the animal and bent down close. “Stay here, Wolf. Stay here and watch Whinney, and Racer and Gray. Stay and guard the horses.” She wasn’t entirely sure if he understood, but when he lowered his hind quarters and looked toward the horses, she thought he might. She pulled out the bone she had tucked away for him and gave it to him.
The small fire they had started inside the shelter had long since gone out, so they started a new one, bringing in more fuel to keep it going. About then, Ayla noticed that the nursing was encouraging Jonayla to generate more than water. She quickly spread out a small pile of soft absorbent cattail fibers, and laid the child’s bare bottom on it.
“Jondalar, would you get the large waterbag and bring me whatever is left in it, so I can clean her up, then go and fill it with fresh water, and our small one, too,” Ayla said.
“She is a smelly little thing,” he said with an adoring smile at the little girl he thought was utterly beautiful.
He found the bowl made of tightly woven osier willow withes with an ocher-stained red cord worked in near the top, which was often used to clean especially dirty messes of various kinds. It was marked with the color so it wouldn’t inadvertently be used for drinking water or cooking. He brought it and the nearly empty waterbag to their hearth, filled the bowl, then took their waterbag, made of the stomach of an ibex, the same one that provided the hide for Jonayla’s carrying blanket, along with the large general one to the entrance. He picked up one of the unlit torches that was nearby, took it to their fireplace to light it, and picking up the waterbags on the way, went out.
Animal stomachs, when thoroughly cleaned and with extra holes at the bottom sewed or tied off, were nearly waterproof and made excellent waterbags. When Jondalar came back with the water, the soiled water bowl was beside the night basket near the door, and Ayla was nursing Jonayla again in hopes of putting her to sleep.
“I suppose I should empty the bowl and the night basket, while I’m at it,” he said, planting the end of the lighted torch in the ground.
“If you want, but hurry,” Ayla said, looking at him with a languorous yet mischievous smile. “I think Jonayla is almost asleep.”
He felt an immediate tightening in his loins and smiled back. He brought the large, heavy waterbag to the main hearth and hung it in its accustomed place, a peg on one of the strong posts that supported the structure, then brought the second one to their sleeping place.
“Are you thirsty?” he asked, as he watched her nurse the baby.
“I wouldn’t mind a little water. I was thinking of making some tea, but I think