The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [67]
“I think we have Ayla to thank for the success of this hunt,” Talut said.
Ayla blushed at the unaccustomed praise, but shyness accounted for only part of it. The acceptance of her and appreciation of her skills and abilities implied by the praise made her glow with warmth. She had longed for such acceptance all her life.
“And think what a story it will make at a Summer Meeting!” Talut added.
The conversation paused. Talut picked up a dry branch, a piece of deadfall that had lain so long on the ground the bark hung loosely around it like old and weathered skin. He cracked it in two across his knee and put both pieces in the fire. A geyser of sparks erupted, lighting the faces of the people sitting close together around the flames.
“Hunts are not always so lucky. Do you remember the time we almost got the white bison?” Tulie asked. “What a shame that it got away.”
“That one must have been favored. I was sure we had it. Have you ever seen a white bison?” Barzec asked Jondalar.
“I’ve heard of them, and I’ve seen a hide,” Jondalar replied. “White animals are held sacred among the Zelandonii.”
“The foxes and rabbits, too?” Deegie asked.
“Yes, but not as much. Even ptarmigan are, when they are white. We believe it means they have been touched by Doni, so the ones that are born white, and stay white all year, are more sacred,” Jondalar explained.
“The white ones have special meaning for us, too. That’s why the Hearth of the Crane has such high status … usually,” Tulie said, glancing at Frebec with a touch of disdain. “The great northern crane is white, and birds are the special messengers of Mut. And white mammoths have special powers.”
“I’ll never forget the white mammoth hunt,” Talut said. Expectant looks encouraged him to continue. “Everyone was excited when the scout reported seeing her. It’s the highest honor of all for the Mother to give us a white she-mammoth, and since it was the first hunt of a Summer Meeting, it would mean good luck for everyone, if we could get her,” he explained to the visitors.
“All the hunters who wanted to go on the hunt had to undergo ordeals of purification and fasting to make sure we were acceptable, and the Mammoth Hearth imposed taboos on us, even afterward, but we all wanted to be chosen. I was young, not much older than Danug, but I was big like he is. Maybe that’s why I was picked, and I was one who got a spear in her. Like the bison that went after you, Jondalar, no one knows whose spear killed her. I think the Mother didn’t want any one person or one Camp to get too much honor. The white mammoth was everyone’s. It was better that way. No envy or resentment.”
“I’ve heard of a race of white bears that live far north,” Frebec said, not wanting to be left out of the discussion. Perhaps no one person or Camp could take full credit for killing the white mammoth, but that didn’t preclude all envy or resentment. Anyone chosen to go on it gained more status from that one hunt than Frebec was born with.
“I’ve heard of them, too,” Danug said. “When I was staying at the flint mine, Sungaea visitors came to trade for flint. One woman was a storyteller, a good storyteller. She told about the World Mother, and the mushroom men who follow the sun at night, and many different animals. She told us about the white bear. They live on the ice, she said, and eat only animals from the sea, but they are said to be mild-mannered, like the huge cave bear who eats no meat. Not like the brown bear. They are vicious.” Danug didn’t notice the irritated look Frebec gave him. He hadn’t meant to interrupt, he was just pleased to join in with something to say.
“Men of Clan come back from hunt once and tell of white rhinoceros,” Ayla said. Frebec was still irritated and scowled at her.
“Yes, the white are rare,” Ranec said, “but the black are special, too.” He was sitting back from the fire a bit and his face in shadow could hardly be seen, except for his white