The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [236]
By the time the spears were completed, Jondalar had used up nearly all the flint he had found for the points, the best of the feathers were gone, applied to the spear shafts to help the weapons fly true, and it was nearly time to have the meal that Ayla had started. Several people had picked many more bilberries, most of which were drying on woven mats. The balance were being cooked into a sauce in a sturdy new bowl woven out of cattail leaves mixed with stems of rush plants that grew in a marsh near the lake, using stones heated in the fire. The only sweetening for the sauce came from the fruit itself, but flavorings from the flowers, leaves, and barks of various plants were often added. In this case Ayla had found meadowsweet, whose tiny flowers made a creamy, foaming display with a honey-sweet fragrance; the intensely aromatic blue flowers of hyssop, which was also a good cough remedy; and the leaves and scarlet flowers of bergamot. Rendered fat was added for a touch of richness.
The meal was pronounced a delicious success, almost a feast. The grouse provided a different meat, a new flavor, a change from the dried meat they so often had, and cooking in the ground oven had tenderized the birds, even the tough old males. The grass they were wrapped in had contributed its own flavor, and the fruit sauce added an agreeable piquant taste. There wasn’t as much left over as usual for the morning meal, but enough, especially with the addition of the tender lower stems and rootstalks of cattails.
People were also excited about the hunt planned for the next day. Jondalar and Willamar started talking about it with the others, but until they saw exactly where the bison were, they couldn’t decide what specific strategy to use. They would have to wait until they found the bovids. Since it was still daylight, Jondalar decided on the spur of the moment to follow the trail again to see if he could still find the herd. He didn’t know how much they might have moved. Ayla and Jonayla went with him on their horses, just to give the animals a run. They did find the bison, but not in quite the same place. Jondalar was glad he had decided to track them again, so he could lead the hunters directly to them.
There was always a little chill in the air in the early morning, even in the middle of summer. When Ayla stepped outside the tent the air felt fresh and damp. A cool mist hugged the ground and a layer of fog hung over the lake. Beladora and Levela were up already tending a new fire. Their children were up as well and Jonayla was with them. Ayla hadn’t heard her get up, but the child could be very quiet when she wanted to be. When she spied her mother, she came running over.
“You’re finally up, mother,” she said, as Ayla reached down to pick her up and give her a hug. Ayla doubted that her daughter had been awake very long, but she knew that a child’s sense of time was different from that of adults.
After she passed her water, Ayla decided to take a bathing swim in the lake before she went back into the tent. She emerged not long after dressed in her hunting outfit. Her activities woke Jondalar, who was content to lie in his bedroll and watch her; he had been well satisfied the night before. The sleeveless vest didn’t offer much warmth, but the hunters didn’t want to overdress since they knew the temperature would rise later. On cool mornings they tended to stay close to the fire and drink hot tea. Their activity would warm them once they started out. The grouse tasted just as good cold as a morning meal as it did the night before. Once again Gray was left behind with Jonayla, but the child didn’t want to stay.
“Mother, can’t I go with you, please? You know I can ride Gray,” the girl implored.
“No, Jonayla. It would be too dangerous for you. Things can happen that you don’t expect, and sometimes you have to get your horse out of the way. And you don’t know how to hunt yet,” Ayla said.
“But when will I learn?” she said with great yearning.
Ayla remembered