"I was born here."

Oh, then you are of the Nineteenth Cave."

"Yes. Why do you talk funny?"

"I was not born here. I come from far away. I used to be Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, now I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii," she said, then stepped toward him, holding out both hands in the manner of a formal greeting.

He became a little fl.u.s.tered because he could not reach out well with his partially paralyzed arm. Ayla stretched a bit for his crippled limb and took both hands in hers as though it were perfectly normal, but she noted that his hand was smaller and misshapen, and the little finger was fused to the one next to it. She held his hands for a moment and smiled.

Then, as though he just remembered, the boy said, "I am Lanidar of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii." He was about to let go, but added, "The Nineteenth Cave welcomes you to the Summer Meeting, Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii."

"You whistle very well. Your whistle was a very good copy of mine. Do you like to whistle?" she asked when she let go.

"I guess so."

"Can I ask you not to make that whistle sound again?" she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I use that sound to call the horse, this one, the stallion. If you whistle like that, I'm afraid he will think you are calling him and it will confuse him," Ayla explained. "If you like to whistle, I can teach you other sounds to whistle."

"Like what?"

Ayla looked around and noticed a chickadee perched on the limb of a nearby tree, singing the cbick-a-dee-dee-dee cbick-a-dee-dee-dee sound that gave the bird its name. She listened for a moment, then repeated the sound. The boy looked startled, and the bird stopped singing for a moment, then started up again. Ayla repeated the sound. The black-capped bird sang again, looking around. sound that gave the bird its name. She listened for a moment, then repeated the sound. The boy looked startled, and the bird stopped singing for a moment, then started up again. Ayla repeated the sound. The black-capped bird sang again, looking around.

"How do you do that?" the boy said.

"I'll teach you if you like. You could learn, you're a good whistler," she said.

"Can you whistle like other birds, too?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Which ones?"

"Any one you want."

"How about a meadow lark?"

Ayla closed her eyes for a moment, then whistled a series of tones that sounded exactly like a lark that had soared high into the sky and swooped down, making its glorious melody.

"Can you really teach me to do that?" the boy asked, looking at her with wonder in his eyes.

"If you really want to learn," Ayla said.

"How did you learn?"

"I practiced. If you have patience, sometimes the bird will come to you when you whistle its song," the woman replied. Ayla remembered when she lived alone in her valley and taught herself to whistle and imitate the sounds of birds. Once she started feeding them, there were several that always came at her call and ate out of her hand.

"Can you whistle other things?" Lanidar asked, completely intrigued by the strange woman who talked funny and whistled so well.

Ayla thought for a moment, then perhaps because the boy reminded her of Creb, she began to whistle an eerie melody that sounded like a flute playing. He had heard flutes many times, but he had never heard anything like it. The haunting music was totally unfamiliar to him. It was the sound of the flute played by the mog-ur at the Clan Gathering she had gone to with Brun's clan when she still lived with them. Lanidar listened until she stopped.

"I never heard whistling like that," he said.

"Did you like it?" she asked.

"Yes, but it was a little scary, too. Like it came from a place far away," Lanidar said.

"It did," Ayla said, then she smiled and pierced the air with a sharp, commanding trill. Before long, Wolf came bounding out of the long gra.s.s of the field.

"It's a wolf!" the boy screamed with fear.

"It's all right," she said, holding Wolf close to her. "The wolf is my friend. I walked through the main camp with him yesterday. I thought you would know that he was here, along with the horses."

The boy calmed down, but still looked at Wolf with large round eyes full of apprehension.

"I went with my mother to pick raspberries yesterday. n.o.body even told me you were here. They just said there were some horses in the Upper Meadow," Lanidar said. "Everybody was talking about some kind of spear-throwing thing some man wanted to show. I'm not good at throwing a spear, so I decided I'd look for the horses instead."

Ayla wondered if the omission was on purpose, if someone was trying to trick him the way Marona had tried to trick her. Then she realized that a boy of his age who went berry picking with his mother probably led a pretty lonely life. She got a sense that the boy with a crippled arm, who could not throw a spear, did not have many friends and that the other boys made fun of him and tried to trick him. But he did have one good arm. He could learn to throw a spear, especially using a spear-thrower.

"Why aren't you good at throwing a spear?" she asked.

"Can't you see?" he said, holding out his malformed arm and looking at it with loathing.

"But you have another arm that is perfectly good," she said.

"Everybody always holds their extra spears with their other arm. Besides, n.o.body wanted to teach me. They said I could never hit a target, anyway," the boy said.

"What about the man of your hearth?" Ayla asked.

"I live with my mother, and her mother. I guess there was a man of the hearth once, my mother pointed him out to me, but he left her a long time ago, and he doesn't want anything to do with me. He didn't like it when I tried to visit him. He seemed embarra.s.sed. Sometimes a man will come and live with us for a while, but none of them bother with me much," the boy said.

"Would you like to see a spear-thrower? I have one with me," Ayla said.

"Where did you get one?" Lanidar asked.

"I know the man who made it. He's the man I'm going to mate. I'll be going to help him show his spear-thrower as soon as I finish with the horses."

"I guess I could look at it," the boy said.

Her backpack was on the ground nearby. She got her spear-thrower and a couple of spears and walked back.

"This is how it works," she said, taking a spear and laying it on top of the strange-looking implement. She made sure the hole carved into the b.u.t.t end of the spear was up against the small hook at the back of the narrow board with the groove down the middle, then put her fingers through the loops attached to the front end. She sighted down the field, then launched the spear.

"That spear went a long way!" Lanidar said. "I don't think I've ever seen a man throw a spear that far."

"Probably not. That's what makes the spear-thrower such a good hunting weapon. I think you could throw a spear with this. Come here, I'll show you how to hold it."

Ayla could see that her spear-thrower was not made for someone of Lanidar's size, but it was good enough to demonstrate the principle of leverage behind it. It was his right arm that was deformed, which had forced him to develop his left arm. Whether he would naturally have been left-handed if his right arm had developed properly didn't matter. He was left-handed now, and he was strong on that side. She didn't worry about aiming for the moment, but she showed him how to pull back and cast the spear. Then she set it up and let him do it. The spear flew high and wide, but quite far, and the grin on Lanidar's face was ecstatic.

"I threw that spear. Look how far it went!" he nearly shouted. "Can you actually hit something with it?"

"If you practice," she said, smiling. She looked around the field, but didn't see anything. She turned to Wolf, who'd been lying on his belly with his head up, watching the whole thing. "Wolf, go find something for me," she said, although the hand signal she gave him said more.

He jumped up and raced into the meadow of full-grown gra.s.s turning from green to gold. Ayla followed behind slowly, and the boy walked behind her. Before long she saw movement of the gra.s.s ahead, then caught sight of a gray hare darting away from the wolf. She had the spear poised, watching carefully, and when she saw the direction it would likely bound the next time, she cast the small spear. It landed true, and when she reached it, the wolf was standing over it, looking up at her.

"I want that one, Wolf. You go catch one of your own now," she said to the carnivore, again signaling him at the same time. But the boy didn't really see the signals and was completely amazed at the way the huge wolf minded the woman. She picked up the hare and started back toward the horses.

"You should go and see the man demonstrate the spear-thrower he made. I think you might find it interesting, Lanidar, and just because you don't know how to throw a spear won't make any difference. No one else knows how to use a spear-thrower, either. Everybody will be learning from the beginning. If you want to wait a while, I'll walk over there with you," Ayla said.

Lanidar watched her brushing down the young stallion. "I've never seen a brown horse like that. Most horses look like the mare."

"I know," Ayla said, "but far to the east, beyond the end of the Great Mother River that starts on the other side of the glacier, some horses are brown like that. That's where these horses come from."

After a while the wolf returned. He found a spot, circled around it a few times, then lowered himself to his belly, panting and watching.

"Why do these animals stay around you, let you touch them, and do what you say?" Lanidar asked. "I've never seen animals do that."

"They are my friends. I was hunting and the mare's dam fell into my pit trap. I didn't know she was nursing until I saw the foal. A pack of hyenas saw the foal, too. I don't know why I chased them away. The foal couldn't have lived alone, but since I saved her, I raised her. I guess she grew up thinking I was her mother. Later we became friends, and learned to understand each other. She does things I ask her to do, because she wants to. I named her Whinney," Whinney," Ayla said, but the way she said the name was the perfect copy of a horse's whinny. In the field, the dun-yellow mare raised her head and looked in their direction. Ayla said, but the way she said the name was the perfect copy of a horse's whinny. In the field, the dun-yellow mare raised her head and looked in their direction.

"That was you! How did you do that?" Lanidar said.

"I paid attention and practiced. That is her real name. To most people I usually say 'Whinney' because they understand it better, but that's not how I said it when I named her. This stallion is her son. I was there when he was born. So was Jondalar. He named this horse Racer, but that was later," Ayla explained.

"Racer can mean someone who likes to go fast, or someone who likes to be ahead of everyone else," the boy said.

"That's what Jondalar said. He named him that because Racer loves to run, and likes to get ahead, except when I put him on a rope. Then he will follow behind his dam," Ayla said, and went back to grooming the horse. She was nearly through.

"What about the wolf?" Lanidar asked.

"Almost the same thing. I raised Wolf from a baby. I killed his mother because she was stealing ermine from some traps I set. I didn't know she was nursing. It was in winter with snow on the ground, and she had whelped out of season. I followed her tracks back to her den. She was a lone wolf, with no other wolves to help her, and all but one of her cubs had died. I pulled Wolf out of the den when his eyes were barely open. He grew up with Mamutoi children, and thinks of people as his pack," she said.

"What is that name you call him?" Lanidar said.

"Wolf. It's the word for a wolf in Mamutoi," Ayla said. "Would you like to meet him?"

"What do you mean, 'meet him'? How can you meet a wolf?"

"Come here and I'll show you," she said. He approached with caution. "Give me your hand, and we'll let Wolf smell it, and get used to your scent, then you can rub his fur."

Lanidar was a little hesitant about putting his good hand so close to the mouth of the wolf, but he extended it slowly. Ayla brought it to Wolf's nose. He sniffed it, then licked it.

"That tickles!" the boy said with a nervous t.i.tter.

"You can touch his head, and he likes to be scratched," Ayla said, showing Lanidar how. The boy broke into a delighted grin when he touched the animal, but looked up when the young stallion nickered. "I think Racer would like a little attention, too. Would you like to pet him?"

"Can I?" Lanidar asked.

"Come here, Racer," she said, signaling him to come as well as saying it. The dark brown stallion with black mane, tail, and lower legs nickered again, took a few steps toward the woman and the boy, and lowered his head toward the youngster, making the boy move back a ways from the large animal. He may not have been a carnivore with a mouth full of sharp teeth, but that didn't mean he was without defenses. Ayla reached into the backpack at her feet.

"Move slowly, let him smell you, too. That's how animals get to know you, then you can pat his nose, or the side of his face," Ayla said.

The boy did as she said. "His nose is so soft!" Lanidar said. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Whinney was there, pushing Racer aside. The boy was startled. Ayla had seen Whinney approaching from the field, wanting to find out what was going on.

"Whinney likes attention, too," Ayla said. "Horses are very curious, and like to be noticed. Would you like to feed them?" He nodded. Ayla opened her hand and showed him two pieces of a white root that she knew the horses liked, fresh young wild carrot. "Is your right hand strong enough to hold something?"

"Yes," he said.

"Then you can feed them both at the same time," she said, putting a piece of root in each of his hands. "Hold one out to each horse, letting it rest on your open hand, so they can take it," she said. "They get jealous if you feed one and not the other, and Whinney will push Racer out of the way. She's his mother, she can tell him what to do."

"Even horse mothers can do that?" he said.

"Yes, even horse mothers." She stood up and got the halter with the ropes attached. "I think it's time to go, Lanidar. Jondalar is expecting me. I'm going to have to put their ropes back on. I'd rather not, but it's for their own safety. I don't want them wandering around loose until everybody at the Summer Meeting knows that these horses are not to be hunted. I was thinking a surround might be a better place for them, rather than using ropes that get tangled on bushes and gra.s.s."

The bush caught up in Racer's rope was so tangled, she dropped it and went to find her backpack. She thought she had put the small axe that Jondalar had made for her in it, though when they were traveling, she usually wore it with the hafted handle put through a loop attached to her waistband. It would be easier to untangle the rope if she could break up the woody bush first. She searched around the bottom of the pack and found it. After she made sure they were cleared of the debris they had picked up, Ayla put the ropes back on the horses and gathered up her backpack and the hare to give to whoever might be working around the camp of the Ninth Cave. Then she looked at the boy. "If I teach you how to whistle like birds and things, would you do something for me, Lanidar?"

"What?"

"Sometimes I have to be away almost all day. Would you come and check on the horses once in a while when I'm gone? You can call them with a whistle then, if you want. Make sure their ropes aren't tangled, and give them some attention? They like company. If there are any problems, come and find me. Do you think you could do that?"

The boy could hardly believe what she was asking. He never would have dreamed she would ask him to do something like that. "Can I feed them, too? I liked it when they ate off both my hands."

Of course. You can always pick some fresh green gra.s.s, and they really like wild carrots, and some other roots I can show you. I have to go, do you want to come with me to watch Jondalar show his spear-thrower?"

"Yes," he said.

Ayla walked with the boy back to the camp, making a few bird whistles along the way.

When Ayla, Wolf, and Lanidar reached the site of the spear-throwing demonstration, Ayla was surprised to see several more of the hunting implements besides Jondalar's. Some people who had seen their earlier presentation to the Caves in their immediate region had made their own versions of the weapon, and they were showing their capabilities with varying degrees of success. Jondalar saw her coming and looked relieved. He hurried to meet them.

"What took you so long?" he started right in. "Several people tried to make spear-throwers after we showed them," he said, "but you know how much practice it takes to develop accuracy. So far, I'm the only one who's been able to hit what I aimed for, and I'm afraid people are beginning to think my skill is just a fluke, and that no one else will ever be able to hit anything using them. I didn't want to say anything about you. I thought that a showing of your skill would make a better impression. I'm glad you finally made it."

"I brushed the horses-Racer's eye is fine-and let them run for a while," she explained. "We need to think of something besides ropes that get caught on bushes and things. Maybe we could make a surround, or an enclosure of some kind. I've asked Lanidar to check on them when we're away from camp. He's met the horses and they like him."

"Who is Lanidar?" Jondalar asked rather impatiently.

She indicated the boy who was standing beside her, trying to edge around behind her, looking up at the tall man who seemed angry, which made the boy a little frightened. "This is Lanidar of the Nineteenth Cave, Jondalar. Someone told him there were horses in the field where we camped, and he came to see them."

Jondalar started to shrug him off, his mind on the demonstration that was not going as well as he'd hoped, then he noticed the deformed arm and a frown of concern on Ayla's face. She was trying to tell him something, and it was probably about the boy.

"I think he could be a big help," she said. "He's even learned the whistle we use to call the horses, but he's promised not to use it without a good reason."

"I'm glad to hear that," Jondalar said, turning his attention to the child, "and I'm sure we can use the help." Lanidar relaxed a little, and Ayla smiled at Jondalar.

"Lanidar came to see the demonstration, too. What targets do you have set up?" Ayla asked as they started walking back toward the crowd of mostly men who were watching them. A few of them looked as though they were getting ready to leave.

"Drawings of deer on a hide tied to a bundle of gra.s.s," he said.