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By Root 2845 0

built of accumulated silt, in the middle of the river with sedge, reeds, and several trees growing on it. “There’s a whole flock of storks over there, black ones and white ones. I watched them land,” he said with a pleased smile. “I kept wishing you would come. It was a sight worth seeing. They were diving and soaring, even flipping over. They just folded their wings and dropped from the sky to land; then when they were almost down, they opened their wings. It looked like they were heading south. They’ll probably leave in the morning.”

Ayla looked across the water at the large, long-billed, long-legged, stately birds. They were actively feeding, walking or running on the land or in the shallow water, snapping at anything that moved with their long, strong beaks, taking fish, lizards, frogs, insects, and earthworms. They even ate carrion, judging from the way they went after the remains of a bison washed up on the beach. The two species were quite similar in general shape, though different in coloring. The white storks had black-edged wings and there were more of them; the black storks had white underparts, and most of them were in the water after fish.

“We saw a big herd of horses on the way back,” Ayla said, reaching for the ptarmigan and partridges. “A lot of mares and young ones, but a male was close by. The herd stallion is white.”

“White?”

“As white as those white storks. He didn’t even have black legs,” she said, unfastening the thongs of the pack-saddle basket. “You’d never see him in snow.”

“White is rare. I’ve never seen a white horse,” Jondalar said. Then, thinking back to Noria and the First Rites ceremony, he recalled the white horsehide hanging on the wall behind the bed, decorated with the red heads of immature great spotted woodpeckers. “But I did once see the hide of a white horse,” he said.

Something about the tone of his voice made Ayla look closer. He saw her look, blushed a little as he turned away to lift the carrier basket off Whinney, then felt compelled to explain further.

“It was during the … ceremony with the Hadumai.”

“Are they horse hunters?” Ayla asked. She folded the riding blanket, then picked up the birds and walked to the edge of the river.

“Well, they do hunt horses. Why?” Jondalar asked, walking along with her.

“Remember Talut telling us about hunting the white mammoth? It was very sacred to the Mamutoi because they are the Mammoth Hunters,” Ayla said. “If the Hadumai use a white horsehide during ceremonies, I wondered if they thought horses were special animals.”

“It’s possible, but we weren’t with them long enough to know,” Jondalar said.

“But they do hunt horses?” she asked, starting to pluck the feathers from the birds.

“Yes, they were hunting horses when Thonolan met them. They weren’t very happy with us at first, because we had scattered the herd they were after, but we didn’t know.”

“I think I will put Whinney’s halter on tonight, and tie her next to the tent,” Ayla said. “If there are horse hunters out there, I’d rather have her close by. And besides, I didn’t like the way that white stallion was coming for her.”

“You may be right. Maybe I should stake Racer down, too. I wouldn’t mind seeing that white stallion, though,” Jondalar said.

“I’d rather not see him again. He was too interested in Whinney. But he is unusual, and beautiful. You’re right, white is rare,” Ayla said. Feathers were flying as she pulled them out with rapid movements. She paused for a moment. “Black is rare, too,” she said. “Do you remember when Ranec said that? I’m sure he meant himself as well, even though he was brown, not really black.”

Jondalar felt a pang of jealousy at the mention of the name of the man Ayla almost mated, even though she had come away with him instead. “Are you sorry you did not stay with the Mamutoi and mate with Ranec?” he asked.

She turned and looked at him directly, her hands stopping her task. “Jondalar, you know the only reason I Promised Ranec was that I thought you didn’t love me any more, and I knew he did … but, yes, I am a little sorry. I could have stayed