The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [426]
The ice covering the entire worn and rounded top of the ancient massif spread the precipitation over the whole area, creating a nearly level surface, except at the periphery. The cooled air, milked dry of liquid, dropped low and raced down the sides, bringing no snow beyond the edges of the ice.
As Jondalar and Ayla hiked around the base of the ice looking for the easiest way up, they noticed areas that seemed newly disturbed, with dirt and rocks gouged up by prongs of advancing ice. The glacier was growing.
In many areas, the ancient rock of the highland was exposed at the foot of the glacier. The massif, folded and uplifted by the immense pressures that had created the mountains to the south, had once been a solid block of crystalline granite that incorporated a similar highland to the west. The forces that pushed against the immovable old mountain, the most ancient rock on earth, left evidence in the form of a great rift, a fault that had cleaved the block asunder.
Directly across toward the west, on the opposite side of the glacier, the massif’s western slope was steep, and matched by an east-facing parallel edge across the rift valley. A river flowed along the middle of the broad valley floor of the fault trough protected by the high parallel sides of the cracked massif. But Jondalar planned to head southwest, to cross the glacier diagonally and come down a more gradual grade. He wanted to cross the river nearer its source high in the southern mountains, before it flowed around the glaciered massif and through the rift valley.
“Where did this come from?” Ayla asked, holding up the object in question. It consisted of two oval wooden disks mounted in a frame that held them rigid and fastened fairly close together, with leather thongs attached to the outside edges. A thin slit was cut the long way down the middle of the wooden ovals for almost the fall length, nearly dividing them in half.
“I made it before we left. I have one for you, too. It’s for your eyes. Sometimes the glare of the ice on the glacier is so bright that you can’t see anything but white—people call it snow-blind. The blindness usually goes away after a while, but your eyes can get awfully red and sore. This will protect your eyes. Go ahead, put it on,” Jondalar said. Then, seeing her fumble with them, he added, “Here, I’ll show you.” He put the unusual sunshields on and tied the thongs behind his head.
“How can you see?” Ayla asked. She could just barely make out his eyes behind the long horizontal slits, but she put on the pair he gave her. “You can see almost everything! You just have to turn your head to see to the side.” She was surprised; then she smiled. “You look so funny with your big blank eyes, like some kind of strange spirit … or a bug. Maybe the spirit of a bug.”
“You look funny, too,” he said, smiling back, “but those bug eyes could save your life. You need to see where you are going up on the ice.”
“These mouflon-wool boot liners from Madenia’s mother have been so nice to have,” Ayla commented as she put them in a handy place to get at them easily. “Even when they’re wet, they keep your feet warm.”
“We may be grateful to have the extra pair when we’re on the ice, too,” Jondalar said.
“I used to stuff my foot-coverings with sedge grass, when I lived with the Clan.”
“Sedge grass?”
“Yes. It keeps your feet warm and dries fast.”
“That’s useful to know,” Jondalar said, then picked up a boot. “Wear the boots with the mammoth-hide soles. They’re almost waterproof and they’re tough. Sometimes ice can be sharp, and they’re rough enough so you won’t slip, especially on the way up. Let’s see, we’ll need the adze to chop up ice.” He put the tool on top of a pile he was making. “And rope. Good strong cord, too. We’ll need the tent, sleeping furs, food, of course. Can we leave some