The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [192]
Ayla’s eyes opened with surprise. The story had taken on a new meaning.
“He led me to his fire. There was an older woman at his camp and I was shivering so much that she gave me a wolfskin. After I warmed up, we went back to the river. The fl … the youngster wanted half the fish and I was glad to let him have it. He cut the sturgeon in half, longways, and took his half with him. Everybody who saw me go by came looking for me, and just about then they found me. Even if they laugh about it, I was more than happy to see them.”
“It’s still hard to believe that only one flathead carried off half that fish by himself. I remember it took three or four men to move the half fish he left behind,” Markeno said. “That was a big sturgeon.”
“Men of the Clan are strong,” Ayla said, “but I didn’t know there were any Clan people in this region. I thought they were all on the peninsula.”
“There used to be quite a few on the other side of the river,” Barono said.
“What happened to them?” Ayla asked.
The people in the boat were suddenly embarrassed, looking down and away. Finally Markeno said, “After Doraldo died, Dolando got a lot of people together and … went after them. After a while, most of them … were gone … I guess they went away.”
“Show that to me again,” Roshario said, wishing she could try it with her own hands. Ayla had put the birchbark cast on her arm that morning. Though it was not quite dry, the strong, lightweight material was already rigid enough to hold the arm securely, and Roshario was enjoying the greater mobility it allowed her, but Ayla did not want her to attempt to use the hand yet.
They were sitting with Tholie out in the sun amidst several soft chamois hides. Ayla had her sewing case out and was showing them the thread-puller she had developed with the help of the Lion Camp.
“First you have to cut holes with an awl into both pieces of the leather you want to sew together,” Ayla said.
“The way we always do,” Tholie said.
“But you use this to pull the thread through the holes. The thread goes through this tiny hole at the back end, then when you put the point into the cuts in the leather, it pulls the thread with it through both pieces that you want to join together.” A thought occurred to Ayla as she was demonstrating the ivory needle. If it was sharp enough, I wonder if the thread-puller could make the hole, too? Leather can be tough, though.
“Let me see it,” Tholie said. “How do you get the thread through the hole?”
“Like this, see?” Ayla said, showing her, then gave it back. Tholie tried a few stitches.
“This is so easy!” she said. “You could almost do it with one hand.”
Roshario, watching closely, thought Tholie might be right. Though she couldn’t use her broken arm, if she could use her hand just to hold the pieces together, with a thread-puller like that, she might be able to sew with her good hand. “I never saw anything like that. Whatever made you think of it?” Roshario asked.
“I don’t know,” Ayla said. “It was just an idea I had when I was having trouble trying to sew something, but a lot of people helped. I think the hardest part was making a drill out of flint small enough to make the tiny hole at the end. Jondalar and Wymez worked on that.”
“Wymez is Lion Camp’s flint knapper,” Tholie explained to Roshario. “I understand he is very good.”
“I know Jondalar is,” Roshario said. “He worked out so many improvements on the tools we use to make boats that everyone was raving about him. Just little things, but it made a big difference. He was teaching Darvo before he left. Jondalar’s good at teaching youngsters. Maybe he’ll be able to show him more.”
“Jondalar said he learned much from Wymez,” Ayla said.
“That may be, but you both seem to be good at thinking up better ways to do things,” Tholie said. “This thread-puller of yours is going to make sewing a lot easier. Even when you know how, it’s always hard to push a thread through holes with an awl, and that spear-thrower of Jondalar’s has everyone excited. When you showed how good you are with it,