The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [99]
The mare was swimming for the shore, pulling away from her. She took a deep breath and whistled, loud and long. The horse pricked up her ears and turned toward the sound. Ayla whistled again, and the horse altered direction and tried to swim to her as she reached out toward Whinney with strong strokes. Ayla was a good swimmer. Going generally with the current, though at a diagonal across it, it nevertheless took some effort to reach the wet shaggy animal. When she did, she almost cried with relief. The wolf reached them soon after, but he kept on going.
Ayla rested for a moment, holding on to Whinney’s neck, and only then noticed how cold the water was. She saw the rope trailing in the water, attached to the halter Whinney still wore, and it occurred to her how dangerous it could be for the horse if the rope got tangled in some floating debris. The woman spent a few moments trying to unfasten the knot, but it was swollen tight, and her fingers were stiff with cold. She took a deep breath and started swimming again, not wanting to put an added burden on the horse and hoping the exercise would help warm her.
When they finally gained the far shore, Ayla stumbled out of the water, exhausted and shivering, and fell to the ground. The wolf and the horse were little better. They both shook themselves, spraying water everywhere, then Wolf dropped down, breathing hard. Whinney’s shaggy coat was heavy even in summer, though it would be much thicker in winter when the dense underfur grew in. She stood with her feet spraddled and her body quivering, her head hanging down and her ears drooping.
But the summer sun was high, and the day had warmed, and once she had rested, Ayla stopped shivering. She stood up, looking for Racer, sure that if they had made it across, the stallion would have, too. She whistled, her call for Whinney first, since Racer usually came along whenever she whistled for his dam. Then she made Jondalar’s call whistle for him, and she suddenly felt a stab of worry about the man. Had he made it across the river in that flimsy little boat? And if he had, where was he? She whistled again, hoping the man would hear and respond, but she wasn’t unhappy when the dark brown stallion came galloping into view, still wearing the halter, with a short length of lead rope hanging from it.
“Racer!” she called out. “You did make it. I knew you would.”
Whinney greeted him with a welcoming nicker and Wolf with enthusiastic puppy barks that worked their way into a full-throated howl. Racer responded with loud neighs, which Ayla was sure contained a sound of relief at finding his familiar friends. When he reached them, Racer touched noses with Wolf, then stood near his dam with his head over her neck, drawing comfort after the frightening river crossing.
Ayla joined them and gave him a hug, then patted and stroked him before removing his halter. He was so used to the device that it didn’t seem to bother him, and it did not interfere with his grazing, but Ayla thought the dangling rope could create problems, and she knew she wouldn’t like to wear something like that all the time. She then took Whinney’s halter off and tucked them both into the waist thong of her tunic. She thought about removing her wet clothes, but she felt the need to hurry, and they were drying on her.
“Well, we’ve found Racer. Now it’s time to find Jondalar,” she said aloud. The wolf looked at her expectantly, and she directed her comments at him. “Wolf, let’s find Jondalar!” She mounted Whinney and started off downstream.
After many spins, turns, and bumps, the small, round, hide-covered boat, with Jondalar’s assistance, was calmly following the current again, this time with the three poles trailing behind. Then, with the single paddle and considerable effort, he began to propel the small craft across the large river. He discovered that the three trailing poles tended to stabilize the floating bowl, keeping it from rotating and making it easier to control.
All the while, as he worked his way toward the land that was slipping