The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [107]
As she put it back, she noticed a strange object lying on the ground. It was made of cattail leaves woven to resemble a person, with two arms sticking out the sides and two legs, and a piece of soft leather wrapped around it like a tunic. Two short lines for eyes had been drawn on the face with charcoal, and another line shaped into a smile. Tufts of feather grass had been fastened to the head as hair.
The people Ayla had grown up with did not make images, except for simple totem signs, such as the marks on her leg. She had been deeply scratched by a cave lion as a small girl, leaving her left thigh scarred with four straight lines. A similar mark was used by the Clan to indicate a cave lion totem. That was why Creb had been so sure that the Cave Lion was her totem, in spite of the fact that it was considered a male totem. The Spirit of the Cave Lion had chosen her and marked her himself, and would therefore protect her.
Other Clan totems were indicated in similar ways, with simple signs often derived from the movements or gestures of their sign language. But the first truly representative image she had ever seen was the rough sketch of an animal Jondalar had drawn on a piece of leather used for a target, and she was puzzled at first by the object on the ground. Then, with a flash of recognition, she knew what it was. She had never had a doll when she was growing up, but she recalled similar objects that Mamutoi children played with and realized it was a child’s plaything.
It was suddenly obvious to Ayla that a woman had been sitting there with her child only moments before. Now she was gone and she must have left in a great hurry, since she had abandoned her food and had not even taken her child’s toy with her. Why would she leave in such a hurry?
Ayla turned and saw Jondalar, still holding Racer’s lead rope, bent down on one knee amidst a scattering of flint chips and examining a piece of the stone he had noticed. He looked up.
“Someone ruined a very good point with a badly made final stroke. It should have been just a tap, but it landed off the mark, and too hard … as though the knapper was suddenly interrupted. And here’s the hammerstone! It was just dropped.” The nicks on the hard oval stone indicated its long use, and the experienced flint knapper found it difficult to imagine anyone dropping and leaving a favored tool.
Ayla looked around and saw fish drying on a rack, with whole ones on the ground close by. One had been split open but left on the ground. There was more evidence of interrupted tasks, but no sign of the people.
“Jondalar, there were people here not very long ago, but they left in a big hurry. Even the fire is still burning. Where is everyone?”
“I don’t know, but you’re right. They left in a hurry. They just dropped everything and … ran away. As if they were … afraid.”
“But why?” Ayla said, looking around. “I don’t see anything to be afraid of.”
Jondalar started to shake his head, then noticed Wolf sniffing around the abandoned Camp, poking his nose into the entrances of the tents and around the places where things had been left. Then his attention was drawn to the hay-colored mare grazing nearby, dragging an arrangement of poles and bowl boat, strangely unconcerned about both the people and the wolf. The man turned to look at the young dark-brown stallion that followed him so willingly. The animal was arrayed with pack baskets and riding blanket and was standing beside him patiently, held only by a single rope attached to his head with cord and leather.
“I think that may be the problem, Ayla. We don’t see it,” he said. Wolf suddenly stopped his nosy exploring, gazed intently at the woods, then started into them. “Wolf!” he called. The animal stopped and looked back at the man, wagging his tail. “Ayla, you’d better call him back or he’ll find the people of this Camp, and scare them even more.”
She whistled, and he ran to her. She fondled his ruff but was frowning at Jondalar. “Are you saying we scare them? That they ran