The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [52]
His map did not show the route which the water took across the land; their perspective was not from-such a bird’s-eye view. He drew herringbone zigzag lines to indicate the river, and attached them to both sides of a straight line, to show a tributary. At the ground level of their open flat landscape, rivers were bodies of water, which sometimes joined.
They knew where the rivers came from and where they led, and that rivers could be followed to certain destinations, but so could other landmarks, and a rock outcrop was less likely to change. In a land that was so close to a glacier, yet subject to the seasonal changes of lower latitudes, ice and permafrost—ground that was permanently frozen—caused drastic alterations of the landscape. Except for the largest of them, the deluge of glacial runoff could change the course of a river from one season to the next as easily as the ice hill pingos of winter melted into the bogs of summer. The mammoth hunters conceived of their physical terrain as an interrelated whole in which rivers were only an element.
Neither did Talut conceive of drawing lines to scale to show the length of a river or trail in miles or paces. Such linear measures had little meaning. They understood distance not in terms of how far away a place was but how long it would take to get there, and that was better shown by a series of lines telling the number of days, or some other markings of number or time. Even then, a place might be more distant for some people than for others, or the same place might be farther away at one season than another because it took longer to travel to it. The distance traveled by the entire Camp was measured by the length of time it took the slowest. Talut’s map was perfectly clear to the members of the Lion Camp, but Ayla watched with puzzled fascination.
“Wymez, tell me where they were,” Talut said.
“On the south side of the tributary,” Wymez replied, taking the bone drawing knife and adding some additional lines. “It’s rocky, with steep outcrops, but the floodplain is wide.”
“If they keep going upstream, there are not many outlets along that side,” Tulie said.
“Mamut, what do you think?” Talut asked. “You said they haven’t wandered far off.”
The old shaman picked up the drawing knife, and paused for a moment with his eyes closed. “There is a stream that comes in, between the second and last outcrop,” he said as he drew. “They will likely move that way, thinking it will lead out.”
“I know the place!” Talut said. “If you follow it upstream, the floodplain narrows and then is hemmed in by steep rock. It’s a good place to trap them. How many are there?”
Wymez took the drawing tool and drew several lines along the edge, hesitated, then added one more. “I saw that many, that I can say for certain,” he said, stabbing the bone drawing knife in the dirt.
Tulie picked up the marking bone and added three more. “I saw those straggling behind, one seemed quite young, or perhaps it was weak.”
Danug picked up the marker and added one more line. “It was a twin, I think. I saw another straggling. Did you see two, Deegie?”
“I don’t recall.”
“She only had eyes for Branag,” Wymez said, with a gentle smile.
“That place is about half a day from here, isn’t it?” Talut asked.
Wymez nodded. “Half a day, at a good pace.”
“We should start out right away then.” The headman paused, thoughtfully. “It’s been some time since I’ve been there. I’d like to know the lay of the land. I wonder …
“Someone willing to run could get there faster and scout it, then meet us on the way back,” Tulie said, guessing what her brother was thinking.
“That’s a long run …” Talut said, and glanced at Danug. The tall, gangly youth was about to speak up, but Ayla spoke first.
“That is not long