The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [206]
That was not a smart thing to say, Ayla thought as she walked toward the front terrace with Lanoga, the baby, and Wolf. Why did I say it? She looked down at the animal trotting confidently beside her. I was acting almost like a wolf leader, making a lower-ranked pack member back down. But this is not a wolf pack, and I am not a leader. He’s already talking against me, I might be making trouble for myself.
When they started down the path at the lower end of the terrace, Ayla offered to carry the baby for a while, but Lanoga said no and shifted Lorala on her hip. Wolf sniffed at the ground, and Ayla noticed hoofprints. The horses had come this way before. She was going to point them out to the girl, but changed her mind. Lanoga didn’t talk much, and Ayla didn’t want to pressure her into uncomfortable conversation.
They reached the edge of The River, and as they continued along the bank of waterway, Ayla stopped now and then to examine a plant. With a digging stick she carried pushed through her waist thong, she removed several plants with the roots. The girl watched her, and Ayla was going to show her the defining characteristics of the vegetation so she could find it herself, but decided to wait until after she understood their use.
The spring-fed creek that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River tumbled down from the stone porch in a narrow waterfall, then became a minor tributary of The River. Ayla stopped when they reached the water flowing out of the groove it had worn into the limestone and over the edge in a thin cascade of gurgling, foaming liquid. Somewhat beyond the falls, large stones had broken loose from the limestone wall and created a kind of dam with a small pond behind it. One of the stones had a natural basin with mosslike water plants lining it.
The water that filled it came primarily from rain and the backsplashing spray of the waterfall. In the summer, when there was less rain, the water level of the basin was lower and she thought the sun might have warmed it. She dipped her hand in. As she expected, it was tepid, a little cool, but warmer than the water in the pool, and the water plants made the bottom of the basin soft.
Ayla put down her carrying sack. “I brought some food, do you want to feed Lorala now or later?” she asked.
“Now,” Lanoga said.
“All right, let’s eat now,” Ayla said. “I have some cooked grain, and that meat that we scraped for Lorala. I brought enough food for all of us. Even some meaty bones for Wolf. What do you use to feed the baby?”
“My hand,” she said.
Ayla looked at her dirty hands. It didn’t matter. She had fed the child with her dirty hands before, but the woman decided to show her anyway. She held up the plants she had collected on the way.
“Lanoga, I’m going to show you what these plants are for,” Ayla said. The girl looked at them. “They are called soaproot. There are several different kinds, and some work better than others. First I will wash the dirt off of them in this little stream,” she explained, showing Lanoga how to clean them. Then she looked for a round hard stone and a level place on one of the fallen boulders near the basin. “Next, you need to crush the roots. They will work if you just crush them, but soaking draws out more of the slippery juice.” The girl watched closely, but said nothing.
Ayla got a small watertight woven basket out of the pack she carried over one shoulder and moved to the stone basin. “Water by itself doesn’t always get dirt off very well. Soaproot makes it easier. The water in this basin is a little warmer than the water in the stream. Would you like to feel it?” Ayla said.
“I don’t know,” the girl said, looking at her as if she didn’t quite understand.
“Lanoga, come here and put your hand in this water,” Ayla said.
She came closer and put the hand that was not holding the baby in the water.
“It’s warmer isn’t it? Do you like how it feels?” Ayla said.
“I don’t know,” Lanoga said.
Ayla dipped a little of the tepid water into the basket, added the