The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [428]
After a while, when it seemed that Whinney was not quite ready but as comfortable as she could be, Ayla walked to the fire where the people were waiting, to get a drink of water. She was offered hot tea, and she returned for it after bringing some water to the horse.
“Ayla, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you tell how you found your horses,” Dynoda said. “What makes them unafraid of people?”
Ayla smiled. She was getting used to telling stories, and she didn’t mind talking about her horses. She quickly told how she had trapped and killed the horse that had been Whinney’s dam, then noticed the young foal and the hyenas. She explained that she brought the baby horse to her cave, fed her, and raised her. She warmed to the tale, and without realizing it, the skill she had developed in the course of living with the people of the Clan of showing meaning by expression and gesture crept into her narration.
With half her mind on the mare, she unconsciously dramatized the events, and the people, several from the other nearby Caves, were captivated. Her exotic accent and her uncanny ability to mimic the sounds of animals added an interesting element to her unusual story. Even Jondalar was entranced, although he knew the circumstances. He had not heard her tell the whole story quite like that. More questions were asked, and she began to describe her life in the valley, but when she told about finding and raising a cave lion, there were expressions of disbelief. Jondalar was quick to back her up. Whether they entirely believed her or not, the story of a lion, a horse, and a woman all living together in a cave in a secluded valley was an enjoyable one. A sound from the mare stopped her from continuing.
Ayla jumped up and went to Whinney, who was by then lying on her side. A membrane-encased head of a foal began to emerge. For the second time she played midwife to the mare. Before the hindquarters were fully out, the wet newborn foal was trying to stand. Whinney looked back to see what she had done and nickered softly at her new baby. Still on the ground, the baby started squirming toward Whinney’s head, stopping for a moment to try to nurse before either was on their feet. When she reached her dam, the mare immediately started washing her with her tongue. Within moments the tiny horse was trying to stand. She fell over on her nose, but by the second try she was on her feet, only several moments after foaling. A very strong little horse, Ayla thought.
As soon as the baby was standing, Whinney got up, and the moment she was on her feet, the foal was nuzzling her, again trying to nurse, ducking under at first, not quite able to find the right place. After a second pass under her hind legs, Whinney gave the baby a little nip to point the foal in the right direction. That was all it took. Whinney had been perfectly capable, without any assistance, to give birth to her spindly-legged foal.
The people had watched silently, seeing for the first time the knowledge that the Great Earth Mother had given to Her wild creatures about how to take care of their newborn. The only way the young of Whinney’s species could survive, and most of the other animals that grazed the vast steppes in great numbers, was for the young to be able to stand on their own legs, and to run nearly as fast as an adult shortly after birth. Without that, they would have been such easy prey to predators, they could not have lived. With her baby nursing, Whinney seemed content.
The birth of the horse was rare entertainment for the people who were watching, and a story that would be told and retold in the future by everyone who had witnessed it. Several people had questions and comments for Ayla once both horses were comfortable and Ayla returned.
“I didn’t realize that the babies of horses can walk almost from the time they are born. It takes at least a year for a human baby to walk. Do they grow faster, too?”
“Yes,” Ayla replied. “Racer was born the day after I found Jondalar. He’s a full-grown stallion now and he only counts three years of life.