The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [246]
Wolf tried to follow them in pursuit, to no avail, but since long-legged horses were not normally perceived as dangerous, Ayla managed to down a few with her sling. The furry little rodents, fattened for winter hibernation, tasted much like rabbit, but they were small, and for the first time since the previous summer, they often fished the Great Mother River for their dinner.
At first their uneasiness made Ayla and Jondalar very careful traveling through the karst landscape, with its strange formations, caves, and holes, but familiarity lessened their concern. They were walking to give the horses a rest. Jondalar had Racer on a long lead but let him stop to graze a mouthful of the sparse dry grass now and then. Whinney was doing the same, biting off a mouthful, then following Ayla, though she was not using the halter.
“I wonder if the danger Jeren was trying to warn us about was this barren land full of caves and holes,” Ayla was saying. “I don’t like it much here.”
“No, I don’t either. I didn’t know it would be like this,” Jondalar said.
“Haven’t you been here before? But I thought you came this way,” the woman said, looking surprised. “You said you followed the Great Mother River.”
“We did follow the Great Mother River, but we stayed on the other side. We didn’t cross until we were much farther south. I thought it would be easier to stay on this side coming back, and I was curious about this side. The river makes a very sharp turn not far from here. We were heading east then, and I wondered about the highland that forced her south. I knew this would be the only chance I’d ever have to see it.”
“I wish you had told me before.”
“What difference does it make? We’re still following the river.”
“But I thought you were familiar with this area. You don’t know any more about it than I do.” Ayla wasn’t quite sure why it bothered her so much, except that she had counted on him to know what to expect, and now she found that he didn’t. It made her feel nervous about the strange place.
They had been walking along, involved in the conversation that was edging toward a grievance, if not an argument, and not paying much attention to where they were going. Suddenly Wolf, who had been trotting alongside of Ayla, yipped and nudged her leg. They both turned to look and stopped short. Ayla felt a sudden surge of fright, and Jondalar blanched.
24
The woman and man looked toward the ground ahead and saw nothing. The land in front of them had ceased to be there. They had nearly stepped over the edge of a precipice. Jondalar felt the familiar tightening in his groin as he stared down at the steep drop-off, but he was surprised to see that far below was a long, flat green field, with a stream running through it.
The floors of big sinkholes were usually covered with a deep layer of soil, the insoluble residue of the limestone, and some of the deep sinkholes joined together and opened out into elongated depressions, creating large areas of land deep below the normal surface. With both soil and water, the vegetation below was rich and inviting. The problem was that neither of them could see any way to get down to the green meadow at the bottom of the steep-sided hole.
“Jondalar, there’s something wrong about this place,” Ayla said. “It’s so dry and barren, hardly anything can live up here; down there is a beautiful meadow with a stream and trees, but nothing can reach it. Any animal that tried would die in the fall. It’s all mixed up. It feels wrong.”
“It does feel wrong. And maybe you’re right, Ayla. Maybe this is what Jeren was trying to warn us about. There’s not much here for hunters, and it’s dangerous. I’ve never known of a place where you had to worry about falling over a cliff when you’re just walking across the land.”
Ayla bent down, grabbed Wolf’s head with