The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [458]
“What if they aren’t where you think?”
“Then we’ll have to come back and pick up their trail again, but their tracks are heading in the right direction,” he said. “Don’t worry, Ayla. We’ll find them.”
“We have to, Jondalar. We’ve been through too much. I can’t let her go back to a herd now.”
Jondalar led the way to a sheltered field where he had often seen horses before. They found many horses there. It did not take Ayla long to identify her friend. They clambered down to the edge of the grassy bottomland, although Jondalar watched Ayla closely, a little worried that she might be doing more than she should. She whistled the familiar call.
Whinney lifted her head and galloped toward the woman, followed by a large pale stallion and a young brown one. The pale stallion de-toured to challenge the young one, who quickly backed away. Although he was excited by the presence of females in heat, he was not ready to challenge the experienced herd stallion for his own dam. Jondalar ran toward Racer, spear-thrower in hand, ready to protect him from the powerful dominant animal, but the young stallion’s own actions had protected him. The pale horse veered back toward the receptive mare.
Ayla was standing with her arms around Whinney’s neck when the stallion arrived, reared, and displayed his full potential. Whinney backed away from the woman and answered. Jondalar approached, leading Racer with a sturdy rope attached to his halter, looking worried.
“You can try putting her halter on her,” Jondalar said.
“No. We’ll have to camp here tonight. She’s not ready to come yet. They are making a baby, and Whinney wants one. I want to let her,” Ayla said.
Jondalar shrugged his acquiescence. “Why not? There’s no hurry. We can camp here for a while.” He watched Racer strain toward the herd. “He wants to join the others, too. Do you think it would be safe to let him go?”
“I don’t think they’ll go anyplace. This is a big field, and if they do go away, we can climb up and see where they’re heading. It might be good for him to be with other horses for a while. Maybe he can learn from them,” Ayla said.
“I think you’re right,” he said, slipping off the halter, and watching Racer gallop down the field. “I wonder if Racer will ever be a herd stallion? And share Pleasures with all of the females.” And, maybe, start young horses growing inside them, he thought.
“We might as well find a place to make camp and make ourselves comfortable,” Ayla said. “And think about hunting something to eat. There may be willow grouse in those trees by that stream.”
“Too bad there are no hot springs here,” Jondalar said. “It’s amazing how relaxing a hot bath is.”
Ayla looked down from a great height at an unending expanse of water. In the opposite direction, the broad grassy plains stretched out as far as she could see. Nearby was a familiar mountain meadow, with a small cave in a rock wall at the edge. Hazelnut brush grew against the wall, hiding the entrance.
She was afraid. It was snowing outside the cave, blocking the entrance, but when she pushed the brush aside and stepped out, it was spring. Flowers were blooming and birds singing. New life was everywhere. The lusty cry of a newborn came from the cave.
She was following someone down the mountain, carrying a baby on her hip with the help of a carrying cloak. He limped and walked with a staff and carried something in a cloak on his back that bulged out. It was Creb, and he was protecting her newborn. They walked, it seemed forever, but traveled a great distance across mountains and vast plains, until they came to a valley with a grassy sheltered field. Horses went there frequently.
Creb stopped, took off his bulging cloak and laid it on the ground. She thought she saw the white of bone inside, but a young brown horse stepped away from the cloak, and ran to a dun yellow mare. She whistled to the horse, but she galloped away with a pale stallion.
Creb turned and beckoned to her, but she couldn