The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [319]
“Mother wants you to come and meet the headwoman and headman of Wolf Camp,” Deegie said.
“Of course,” Ayla said, rather glad for an excuse to get away from the sharp-eyec Brecie. Ayla had noticed the quick mind at work in the woman’s shrewd guesses, and felt a little uncomfortable around her. “Jondalar, will you stay here with the horses?” She had noticed a few other people had walked over with Branag and Deegie, and were edging closer to the animals. “This is still all new to them, and they are happier when someone they know is around. Where’s Rydag? He can watch Wolf.”
“He’s inside,” Deegie said.
Ayla turned to look, and noticed him standing shyly in the entrance. “Tulie wants me to meet headwoman. Will you watch Wolf?” Ayla signaled and spoke.
“I watch,” he signaled, glancing at the crowd of people standing around, a bit apprehensively. Rydag came out slowly, then sat down beside Wolf and put his arm around him.
“Look at that! She even talks to flatheads. She must be good with animals!” a sneering voice shouted from the crowd. Several people laughed.
Ayla spun around and glared, looking for the one who spoke.
“Anyone can talk to them—you can talk to a rock, too—it’s getting them to talk back,” another voice said, which caused more laughter.
Ayla turned in that direction, almost sputtering, so angry she could hardly speak.
“Is someone here trying to say that boy is an animal?” A more familiar voice spoke out. Ayla frowned as a member of the Lion Camp came forward.
“I am, Frebec. Why not? He doesn’t know what I’m saying. Flatheads are animals, you’ve said it often enough.”
“Now I’m saying I was wrong, Chaleg. Rydag knows exactly what you’re saying, and it’s not hard to get him to talk back to you. You just have to learn his language.”
“What language? Flatheads can’t talk. Who’s telling you these stories?”
“Sign language. He speaks with his hands,” Frebec said. There was general derisive laughter. Ayla was watching him, curious now. Frebec did not like being laughed at.
“Don’t believe me, then,” he said, shrugging and starting to walk away, as though it didn’t matter, then he turned to face the man who had been ridiculing Rydag. “But I’ll tell you something else. He can talk to that wolf, too, and if he tells that wolf to get you, I wouldn’t wager on your chances.”
Unknown to Chaleg, Frebec had been signaling to the boy, the hand motions meant nothing to the stranger. Rydag in turn had questioned Ayla. The whole Lion Camp was watching, taking delight in knowing what was coming by means of this secret language, which they could speak in front of all these people without their knowing it.
Without turning around, Frebec continued, “Why don’t you show him, Rydag?”
Suddenly Wolf was no longer sitting peacefully with the arm of a child around him. In one smooth leap, Wolf was at the man, hackles raised, teeth bared, and a growl that raised the hair on the back of every onlooker’s neck. The man’s eyes opened round as he jumped back in sheer terror. Most of the people near him jumped back as well, but Chaleg kept on going. At Rydag’s signal, Wolf calmly walked back to his place beside the boy, looking rather pleased with himself, turned around a few times, then settled down with his head on his paws, and watched Ayla.
It was taking a chance, Ayla conceded to herself. However, the signal that was given was not exactly one to attack. It was a game the children played with Wolf, a pouncing, mock-attack game that young wolves often played with each other, except Wolf had been taught to curb his bite. Ayla had been using a similar signal on their hunting forays when she wanted him to flush game for her. Though sometimes he ended up pouncing and killing the animals for himself, it was nothing like a signal to actually hurt someone, and Wolf hadn’t touched the man. He had only leaped toward him. But the danger was that he might have.
Ayla knew how protective wolves were about their own territory, or their own pack. They