The valley of horses_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [257]
He detected the tone of annoyance in her voice and wondered what had brought it on. He had only meant to compliment her. The meal was good. Excellent, in fact. When he thought about it, everything she prepared was delicious. Many of the foods were unusual to his taste, but new experiences were one reason for traveling, and though unfamiliar, the quality was evident.
And she did it all. Like the hot tea in the morning, she makes it so easy to forget how much she does. She hunted, foraged, cooked this meal. She provided everything. All you’ve done is eat it, Jondalar. You haven’t contributed a thing. You’ve taken it all and given nothing back … less than nothing.
And now you give her compliments, words. Can you blame her for being annoyed? She’ll be glad to see you go, you just make more work for her.
You could do some hunting, repay some of the meat you’ve eaten, at least. That seems so little, after everything she’s done for you. Can’t you think of something more … lasting? She hunts well enough herself. How worthwhile is a little hunting?
How she does it, though, with that clumsy spear? I wonder … would she think I was insulting her Clan if I offered …
“Ayla … I, um … I want to say something, but I don’t want to offend you.”
“Why do you worry now about offending me? If you have something to say, say it.” The prickles of her irritation were still showing, and his chagrin almost stopped him.
“You’re right. It is a little late. But, I was wondering … ahhh … how do you hunt with that spear?”
She was puzzled by his question. “I dig a hole, and run, no, stampede, a herd toward it. But last winter …”
“A pit trap! Of course, so you can get close enough to use that spear. Ayla, you’ve done so much for me, I want to do something for you before I leave, something worthwhile. But I don’t want you to feel offended by my suggestion. If you don’t like it, just forget I said anything, all right?”
She nodded, a little apprehensive, but curious.
“You are … you are a good hunter, especially considering your weapon, but I think I can show you a way to make it easier, a better hunting weapon, if you’ll let me.”
Her annoyance evaporated. “You want to show me a better hunting weapon?”
“And an easier way to hunt—unless you’d rather not. It will take some practice …”
She shook her head with disbelief. “Clan women do not hunt, and no man wanted me to hunt—not even with a sling. Brun and Creb only allowed it to appease my totem. The Cave Lion is a powerful male totem, and he made them know it was his choice that I should hunt. They dared not defy him.” Suddenly she recalled a vivid scene. “They made a special ceremony.” She reached for the small scar in the hollow of her throat. “Creb drew my blood as sacrifice to the Ancient Ones so I could become the Woman Who Hunts.
“When I found this valley, the only weapon I knew was my sling. But a sling is not enough, so I made spears like the ones the men used, and I learned to hunt with them, the best I could. I never thought any man would want to show me a better way.” She stopped and looked down at her lap, suddenly overcome. “I would be most grateful, Jondalar. I cannot tell you how much.”
The wrinkles of tension on the man’s forehead smoothed out. He thought he glimpsed a tear glistening. Could it mean that much to her? And he was worried that she might take it wrong. Would he ever understand her? The more he learned about her, the less he seemed to know. She taught herself?
“I will need to make some special tools. And some bone, the deer legbones I found will work fine, but I’ll need to soak them. Do you have a container I can use to soak bones?”
“How big does it need to be? I have many containers,” she said, getting up.
“It can wait until you finish eating, Ayla.”
She didn’t feel like eating now; she was too excited. But he wasn’t through. She sat back down and picked at her food until he noticed she wasn’t eating.
“Do you want to go look at containers now?” he asked.
She leaped up and headed for the