The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [130]
By evening it was impossible to forget them. The gnats burrowed into the heavy, sweat-soaked coats of the horses, buzzed around their eyes, and crept into their mouths and nostrils. The wolf fared little better. The poor animals were beside themselves with agony from the millions of mites. The annoying insects even got into the hair of the humans, and both Ayla and Jondalar found themselves spitting and rubbing their eyes to get rid of the tiny beasts as they rode. The swarms of gnats were thicker closer to the delta, and they began to wonder where they would camp for the night.
Jondalar spied a grassy hill on their right, and he thought the elevation might give him a broader view. They rode to the top of the rise and looked down at the sparkling water of an oxbow lake. It lacked the lush growth of the delta—and the stagnant pools that fostered the emerging imagoes—but a few trees and some brush lined the edges, bracketing a wide, inviting beach.
Wolf started down at a run, and the horses followed with no urging. It was all the woman and man could do to stop them long enough to lift off the pack baskets and unhitch Whinney’s travois. They all splashed into the clear water in a rush that was slowed only by the resistance of the water. Even nervous Wolf, who disliked crossing rivers, showed no hesitation as he paddled around in the lake.
“Do you think he’s finally starting to like water?” Ayla asked.
“I hope so. We have many more rivers to cross.”
The horses dipped their heads to drink, snorted and blew water out of their noses and mouths, and then went back to the shallows. They dropped down on the muddy bank to roll and scratch themselves, and Ayla couldn’t help laughing out loud at their grimacing faces and their eyes rolling and flashing in sheer delight. When they got up they were coated with mud, but when it dried, sweat, dead skin, insect eggs, and other causes of itching fell away with the dust.
They camped on the edge of the lake and started out early the next day. By evening they wished they could find another campsite as pleasant. A wave of mosquitoes followed the hatching of the gnats, raising red itching bumps that forced Ayla and Jondalar to don protective, and heavier, clothing, though it felt uncomfortably warm after being accustomed to the bare minimum. Neither of them was quite sure when the flies appeared. There had always been a few horseflies around, but now it was the smaller biting flies that suddenly increased. Even though it was a warm evening, they crawled into their sleeping furs early, just to escape the flying hordes.
They did not break camp until late morning the next day, not until after Ayla had searched for herbs that could be used to soothe their bites and to make insect repellents. She found brownwort, with its loose spike of strangely shaped brown flowers, in a damp and shady place near the water, and she collected the whole plants to make into a wash, for their skin-healing and itch-relieving properties. When she saw the large leaves of plantain she picked them to add to the solution; they were excellent for healing anything from bites to boils, even severe ulcers and wounds. From farther out on the steppes where it was drier, she gathered wormwood flowers to add as a general antidote for poisons and toxic reactions.
She was quite pleased to find bright yellow marigolds for their antiseptic and quick-healing vitues, to take the sting out of bites, and because they were so effective in keeping insects away when a strong solution was splashed on. And growing at the sunny edge of the woods, she found wild marjoram, which was not only a good insect repellent when made into