The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [189]
She wanted to advise him, to give him the benefit of her experience and the wisdom of her years, but she held her tongue. They must work out their own destinies, she thought.
Since the Mamutoi lived in close quarters for extended periods of time, they had to learn to tolerate each other. There was no real privacy in the earthlodge, except the privacy of each person’s thoughts, and they were very careful not to intrude into another’s private thoughts. They shied away from asking personal questions, or pressing uninvited offers of assistance and advice, or intervening in private squabbles unless they were asked, or if the squabbles got out of hand and became a problem for everyone. Instead, if they saw a troubling situation developing, they quietly made themselves available and waited with patience and forbearance until a friend was wanted to discuss worries, fears, and frustrations. They were not judgmental or highly critical, and they imposed few restrictions on personal behavior if it did not hurt or seriously disturb others. A solution to a problem was one that worked, and satisfied everyone involved. They were gentle with each other’s souls.
“Mamut …” Ayla began, then realized she didn’t know exactly what she wanted to say. “Ah … I think now is good time to make medicine for arthritis.”
“I would not object,” the old man said, smiling. “I have not had as comfortable a winter in many years. If for no other reason, I am glad you are here, Ayla. Let me put away this knife I won from Jondalar, and I will put myself in your hands.”
“You win knife from Jondalar?”
“Crozie and I were wagering with the knucklebones. He was watching and looked interested, so I invited him to play. He said he would like to, but he had nothing to wager. I told him as long as he had his skill, he always had something, and said I’d bet against a special knife that I wanted to be made in a certain way. He lost. He should know better than to wager against One Who Serves.” Mamut chuckled. “Here’s the knife.”
Ayla nodded. His answer satisfied her curiosity, but she wished someone could tell her why Jondalar didn’t want to talk to her. The group of people who had been admiring Ayla’s red leather hide broke up and left the Mammoth Hearth, except for Rydag, who joined Ayla and Mamut. There was something comforting about watching her treat the old shaman. He settled himself on a corner of the bed platform.
“I will make hot poultice for you first,” she said, and began to mix ingredients in a wooden bowl.
Mamut and Rydag watched her measuring, mixing, heating water. “What do you use in the poultice?” Mamut asked.
“I do not know your words for plants.”
“Describe them to me. Maybe I can tell you. I know a few plants and some remedies; I’ve had to learn some.”
“One plant, grows higher than knee,” Ayla explained, thinking about the plant carefully. “Has big leaves, not bright green, like dust on them. Leaves grow together with stem first, then get big, then come to point at end. Under leaf, soft, like fur. Leaves good for many things, and roots, too, especially broken bones.”
“Comfrey! That must be comfrey. What else is in the poultice?” This is interesting, he thought.
“Other plant, smaller, does not reach knee. Leaves, like small spear point Wymez makes, dark shiny green, stay green in winter. Stem comes up from leaves, has little flowers, light color, small red spots inside. Good for swellings, rash, too,” Ayla said.
Mamut was shaking his head. “Leaves stay green in winter, spotted flowers. I don’t think I know that one. Why not just call it spotted wintergreen.”
Ayla nodded. “Do you want to know other plants?” she asked.
“Yes, go ahead and describe another.”
“Big plant, bigger than Talut, almost tree. Grows on low ground, near rivers. Dark purple berries stay on plant even in winter. Young leaves good to eat, big old ones too strong,