The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [290]
Wolf was at his feet again, whining and whimpering, running toward the Mammoth Hearth entrance, and then toward him again.
“What is it, Wolf? What’s bothering you?” And what’s bothering Whinney, he thought. Then it occurred to him what might bother both animals. Ayla! They must sense some danger to Ayla!
Jondalar strode back in, and saw that several people were now around both Mamut and Ayla, trying to wake them up. Unable to hold back any more, he rushed to Ayla. She was stiff, rigid with tense muscles, and cold. She hardly breathed.
“Ayla!” Jondalar cried out. “O Mother, she looks almost dead! Ayla! O Doni, don’t let her die! Ayla, come back! Don’t die, Ayla! Please don’t die!”
He held her in his arms, calling out her name, with great urgency, over and over again, pleading with her not to die.
Ayla felt herself slipping farther and farther away. She tried to hear the chanting and drumming, but they were like a dim memory. Then, she thought she heard her name. She strained to listen. Yes, there it was again, her name, spoken urgently, with great need. She felt Mamut move closer, and together they focused on the chanting. She heard a faint hum of voices, and felt herself drawn toward the sound. Then in the distance, she heard the deep, vibrant, staccato voice of the drums speak the word “h-h-q-ooo-m-m-m.” More clearly now, she heard her name cried out with anguish and need and overpowering love. She felt a gentle probing reach for her and touch the combined essence of her and Mamut.
Suddenly, she was moving, being pulled and pushed along a single glowing strand. She had an impression of intense speed. The heavy cloud surrounded her, and was gone. She passed through the void in the flick of an eye. The shimmering rainbow became a gray mist, and the next instant, she was in the lodge. Below her, her own body, unnaturally still with a gray pallor, was sprawled out on the floor. She saw the back of a blond man who was huddling over her, holding her. Then, she felt Mamut push her.
Ayla’s eyelids flickered, then she opened her eyes and saw Jondalar’s face looking down at her. The intense fear in his blue eyes changed to immense relief. She tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick, and she was cold, freezing cold.
“They’re back!” she heard Nezzie say. “I don’t know where they’ve been, but they’re back. And they’re cold! Bring furs, and something hot to drink.”
Deegie brought an armful of furs from her bed, and Jondalar got out of the way so she could tuck them around Ayla. Wolf came rushing over, jumping up and licking her face, then Ranec brought a cup of hot tea. Talut was helping her to sit up. Ranec held the hot drink to her lips, and she smiled, gratefully. Whinney neighed from the annex and Ayla recognized the sound of distress and fear. The woman sat up, feeling concern, and nickered back to calm and reassure the mare. Then she asked for Mamut, and insisted on seeing him.
She was helped up, a fur was draped over her shoulders, and she was led to the old shaman. He was bundled in furs and holding a cup of hot tea, too. He smiled at her, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes. Not wanting to unduly upset the Camp, he had tried to make less of their perilous experiment, but he did not want Ayla to misunderstand how serious their danger had been. She, too, wanted to talk about it, but both of them avoided direct references to the experience. Nezzie quickly sensed their need to talk, and unobtrusively cleared everyone away and left them alone.
“Where were we,