The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [158]
Dolando stood at the entrance to the dwelling watching Jondalar and the woman, and the wolf. Though he hadn’t said anything, he had been very much aware of the animal. He noticed that Wolf stayed right beside the woman, matching her stride when she walked. He had observed the subtle hand signals Ayla made when she approached Roshario’s bed, and he saw the wolf drop to his stomach, though his head was up and his ears alert, watching the woman’s every movement. When she left, he was up at her command, eager to follow her again.
He watched until Ayla, and the wolf that she controlled with such absolute assurance, turned the corner around the end of the wall. Then he looked back at the woman on the bed. For the first time since that horrible moment when Roshario slipped and fell, Dolando dared to feel a glimmer of hope.
When Ayla returned, carrying a pack basket and the datura plants she had washed in the pool, she found a square wooden cooking box, which she decided to examine more closely later, another one filled with water, a hot fire burning in the fireplace with several smooth, rounded stones heating in it, and some small sections of plank. She nodded her approval to Dolando. She looked through the contents of the pack basket until she found several bowls and her old otter-skin medicine bag.
Using a small bowl, she measured a quantity of water into the cooking box, added several whole datura plants, including the roots, then splashed a few drops of water on the cooking stones. Leaving them in the fire to heat further, she emptied the contents of her medicine bag and selected a few packets. As she was putting the rest back, Jondalar came in.
“The horses are fine, Ayla, enjoying the grass in the field, but I’ve asked everyone to stay away from them for now.” He turned to Dolando. “They can get skittish around strangers, and I don’t want anyone accidentally harmed. Later we can get them used to everyone.” The leader nodded. He didn’t think there was much he could say, one way or another, right now. “Wolf doesn’t look very happy outside, Ayla, and some people seem a little alarmed by him. I really think you should bring him in here.”
“I would rather have him inside with me, but I thought Dolando and Roshario might want him to wait out there.”
“Let me talk to Roshario first. Then I think she can bring the animal in,” Dolando said, not waiting for a translation and speaking a mixture of Sharamudoi and Mamutoi that Ayla had no trouble grasping. Jondalar gave him a surprised look, but Ayla just continued the conversation.
“I need to measure these on her for splints, too,” she said, holding out the small pieces of plank, “and then I want you to scrape these planks until there are no splinters, Dolando.” She picked up a loose piece of rather crumbly stone that was near the fireplace. “And rub them with this sandstone until they are very smooth. Do you have some soft skins I can cut up?”
Dolando smiled, though it was a bit grim. “That’s what we are known for, Ayla. We use the skin of the chamois, and no one makes softer leather than the Shamudoi.”
Jondalar watched them talking to each other with perfect under standing, even though the language they used was not exactly perfect and shook his head in wonder. Ayla must have known Dolando could understand Mamutoi, and she was already using some Sharamudoi—when had she learned the words for “plank” and “sandstone”?
“I’ll get some after I talk to Roshario,” Dolando said.
They approached the woman on the bed. Dolando and Jondalar explained that Ayla traveled with a wolf as a companion—they didn’t bother to mention the horses just yet—and that she wanted to bring him inside the dwelling.
“She has complete control over the animal,” Dolando said. “He answers to her commands and will not harm anyone.”
Jondalar shot him another look of surprise. Somehow, more had been communicated