The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [163]
Ayla smiled at him. “There aren’t many trees out here to fall, Jondalar.”
He smiled a little ruefully. “That’s true, and all the more reason to be out here when the ground shakes,” he said.
“But how would you know when the ground is going to shake?”
“By paying attention to the horses!” he said.
“If only I could be sure that would always work,” she said.
As they neared Old Valley, they noticed unusual activity. Almost everyone seemed to be outside of the shelters, and many of them were clustered around in front of one of them. They dismounted and walked the horses toward the shelter they had been using, which was just beyond the one where the people were gathered.
“There you are!” the First called out. “I was a little worried about you when the ground started shaking.”
“We’re fine. Are you all right?” Ayla said.
“Yes, yes, but the Fifth Cave has had some injuries, one serious,” the woman said. “Perhaps you might take a look.”
Ayla detected the note of concern in her voice. “Jondalar, would you take the horses and see how everything is? I’m going to stay here and help Zelandoni,” she said.
She followed the large woman until they came to the place in front of the shelter where a boy was lying on a fur bedroll that was spread out on the ground, with the fur side down to make a padding underneath. Extra pads and blankets had been placed under him to elevate his head and shoulders slightly. Soft, pliable skins, covered with blood, were directly under his head, and blood was still seeping out. She took Jonayla out of her carrying blanket, set it out on the ground, and put the baby down on it. Wolf lay down next to her. Then Hollida appeared.
“I’ll watch her,” she said.
“I would be grateful,” Ayla said. She saw a cluster of people nearby who seemed to be consoling a woman, and realized that it was probably the boy’s mother. She knew how she would feel if he were her son. She exchanged a look with the First, held it for a moment, and understood that the boy’s injury was more than serious. It was grim.
Ayla knelt down to examine him. He was lying in the open in the light of the sun, though high clouds shielded the brightness somewhat. The first thing she noticed was that he was unconscious, but breathing, though it was slow and irregular. He had bled a great deal, but that was usually the case with head wounds. Much more serious was the pink-tinged fluid draining from his nose and ears. That meant the bone of the skull was cracked and the substance inside injured, which did not bode well for the child. Ayla understood the First’s concern. She lifted his eyelids and looked at both of his eyes; one of the pupils contracted in the light, and the other was larger than the first and did not react, another bad sign. She turned his head slightly to allow the bloody mucus coming from his mouth to drain to the side and not clog his breathing passages.
She had to control a reaction to shake her head so the mother wouldn’t see how hopeless she thought it was. She got up and looked intently at the First, communicating her bleak prognosis. They went off to the side where the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave was watching. Some people from his shelter had come to get the Zelandoni when the boy was hurt, and he had already examined him. He had asked the First to look at the child to confirm his diagnosis.
“What do you think?” the man said under his breath, looking at the older woman, then at the younger one.
“I don’t think there’s any hope for him,” Ayla said in a very soft voice.
“I’m afraid I agree,” the One Who Was First said. “There is very little that can be done for an injury like that. He has not only lost blood, but he is also losing other fluids from inside his head. Soon the wound will swell and that will be the end.”
“That’s what I thought. I will have to tell his mother,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth said.
The three Zelandonia walked to the small group of people who were obviously trying to comfort the woman who was sitting on the ground not far from the boy. When she looked at the expressions on the faces of