The Mammoth Hunters - Jean M. Auel [79]
It was a trick, a trick of skill few could have duplicated. No one had taught Ayla to use a sling. She had learned by secretly watching the men of Brun’s clan, and by trial and error, and practice. She had developed the rapid-fire double stone throw technique as a means of self-defense after she’d missed her first shot once, and barely escaped an attacking lynx. She didn’t know that most people would have said it was impossible; there had been no one to tell her.
Though she didn’t realize it, it was doubtful if she would ever meet anyone who could match her skill, and it didn’t matter to her in the least. Pitting herself against another to see who was best was of no interest to her. Her only competition was with herself; her only desire was to better her own skill. She knew her capabilities, and when she thought of a new technique, such as the double stone throw or hunting from horseback, she tried several approaches and when she found one that seemed to work, she practiced until she could do it.
In every human activity, a few people, through concentration and practice, and deep desire, can become so skilled that they excel all others. Ayla was such an expert with her sling.
There was a moment of silence as people released held breaths, then murmurs of surprise, then Ranec began slapping his thighs with his hands. Soon the entire Camp was applauding in the same way. Ayla wasn’t sure what it meant, and glanced at Jondalar. He was beaming with delight, and she began to sense the applause was a sign of approval.
Tulie was applauding, too, though in a somewhat more restrained manner than some of the others, not wanting to seem too impressed, though Jondalar felt sure she was.
“If you think that was something, watch this!” he said, reaching down for two more hard lumps of dirt. He saw that Ayla was watching him, and was ready with two more stones. He threw both chunks into the air at one time. Ayla discharged one and then the other in a burst of dust and falling dirt. He threw up two more, and she blasted them before they hit the ground.
Talut’s eyes were gleaming with excitement. “She is good!” he said.
“You throw two up,” Jondalar said to him. Then he caught Ayla’s eye and picked up two more hunks of dirt himself and held them up to show her. She reached into the pouch and came up holding four stones, two in each hand. It would take exceptional coordination just to load and throw four stones with a sling before four clods thrown up in the air fell back to earth, but to do it with enough accuracy to hit them would be a challenge that would certainly test her skill. Jondalar overheard Barzec and Manuv making a wager between themselves; Manuv was betting on Ayla. After saving little Nuvie’s life, he was sure she could do anything.
Jondalar hurled the clods up, one after the other, with his strong right hand as Talut heaved two more dry clumps of dirt as high as he could into the air.
The first two, one of Jondalar’s and one of Talut’s, were hit in quick succession. Dirt rained down from the collision, but it took extra time to transfer the additional stones from one hand to the other. Jondalar’s other clump was falling, and Talut’s was slowing as it neared the top of its arc, before Ayla could ready the sling again. She sighted on the lowest target, gaining speed as it was falling, and flung a stone out of the sling. She watched it hit, waiting longer than she should have before reaching again for the loose end of the sling. She would have to hurry.
With a smooth motion, Ayla put the last stone into the sling, and then, faster than anyone could believe, whipped it out again, shattering the last lump of dirt just before it hit the ground.
The Camp burst into shouts of approval and congratulations, and thigh-slapping applause.
“That was quite a demonstration, Ayla,” Tulie said, her voice warm with praise. “I don’t think I