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“We learn each other, Danug. Whinney not talk like you talk. I learn … her signs … her signals. She learn mine.”
“You mean like Rydag’s signs?”
“A little. Animals, people, all have signals, even you, Danug. You say words, signals say more. You speak when you not know you speak.”
Danug frowned. He wasn’t sure he liked the drift of the conversation. “I don’t understand,” he said, looking aside.
“Now we talk,” Ayla continued. “Words not say, but signals say … you want ride horse. Is right?”
“Well … ah … yes, I’d like to.”
“So … you ride horse.”
“Do you mean it? Can I really have a ride on the horse? Like Latie and Druwez did?”
Ayla smiled. “Come here. Need big stone to help you get on first time.”
Ayla stroked and patted Whinney, and talked to her in the unique language that had developed naturally between them, the combination of Clan signs and wo
rds, nonsense sounds she had invented with her son and imbued with meaning, and animal sounds which she mimicked perfectly. She told Whinney that Danug wanted a ride, and to make it exciting but not dangerous. The young man had learned some of the Clan signs that Ayla was teaching Rydag and the Camp, and was surprised that he could make out the meaning of a few that were part of her communication with the horse, but that only filled him with more awe. She did talk to the horse, but like Mamut when he was invoking spirits, she used a mystical, powerful, esoteric language.
Whether the horse understood explicitly or not, she did understand from Ayla’s actions that something special was expected when the woman helped the tall young man on her back. To Whinney, he felt like the man she had come to know and trust. His long legs hung down low, and there was no sense of direction or control.
“Hold onto mane,” Ayla instructed. “When you want to go, lean forward little. When you want slow or stop, sit up.”
“You mean you’re not going to ride with me?” Danug said, a touch of fear quaking his voice.
“Not need me,” she said, then gave Whinney’s flank a slap.
Whinney broke away with a sudden burst of speed. Danug jerked backward, then clutching her mane to pull forward, wrapped his arms around her neck and hung on for dear life. But when Ayla rode, leaning forward was a signal to go faster. The sturdy horse of the cold plains surged ahead down the level floodplain, which had by now become quite familiar, leaping logs and brush and avoiding exposed, jagged rock and occasional trees.
At first, Danug was so petrified he could only keep his eyes squeezed shut and hang on. But after he realized he hadn’t fallen off, though he could feel the mare’s powerful muscles as he bounced with her stride, he opened his eyes a slit. His heart beat with excitement as he watched trees and brush and the ground below pass by in a blur of speed. Still holding on, he lifted his head up to look around.
He could hardly believe how far he had come. The large outcrops flanking the stream were just ahead! Vaguely, he heard a shrill whistle far behind him, and immediately noticed a difference in the horse’s pace. Whinney burst beyond the guarding rocks then, slowing only slightly, turned around in a wide circle and headed back. Though still hanging on, Danug was less fearful now. He wanted to see where they were going, and assumed a somewhat more upright position, which Whinney interpreted as a signal to slow a little.
The grin on Danug’s face as the horse approached made Ayla think of Talut, especially when he was pleased with himself. She could see the man in the boy. Whinney pranced to a stop, and Ayla led her to the rock so Danug could get down. He was so ecstatic he could hardly speak, but he could not stop smiling. He had never considered riding fast on the back of a horse—it was beyond his imagination—and the experience went beyond his wildest expectations. He would never forget it.
His grin made Ayla smile every time she glanced at him. She attached the poles to Whinney’s harness and when they returned to the campsite, he was still grinning.
“What’s wrong with you?” Latie asked. “Why are you smiling like that?”
“I rode the horse,” Danug answered. Latie nodded and smiled.
Nearly everything that could be taken away from the hunting site had been lashed to packboards, or wrapped in skins ready to be swung hammocklike from stout poles carried across the shoulders of two people. There were still haunches and rolled hides left, but not as much as Ayla thought there might be. As with hunting and butchering, more could be taken back to the winter camp when everyone worked together.
Several people had noticed that Ayla was not preparing a load to carry back, and wondered where she had gone, but when Jondalar saw her return with Whinney dragging the poles, he knew what she had in mind. She rearranged the poles so that the thicker ends were crossed just above the basket panniers across the mare’s withers and fastened to the harness, and the narrow ends angled out behind the horse and rested easily on the ground. Then between the two poles, she attached a makeshift platform made out of the tent covering, using branches for support. The people stopped to watch her, but it wasn’t until she began transferring the balance of the bison parts to the travois that anyone guessed its purpose. She also filled up the panniers, and put the last of it on a packboard to carry herself. When she was through, much to everyone’s surprise, there was nothing left in the stack.
Tulie looked at Ayla and the horse, with the travois and panniers, obviously impressed. “I never thought of using a horse to carry a load,” she said. “In fact, it never occurred to me to use a horse for anything except food—until now.”
Talut threw dirt on the fire, stirred it around to make sure it was out. Then he hoisted his heavy packboard to his back, drew his haversack over his left shoulder, picked up his spear, and started out. The rest of the hunters followed him. Jondalar had wondered ever since he first met the Mamutoi why they made their packs to be worn over only one shoulder. As he adjusted his packboard to fit comfortably across his back, and pulled his haversack over his shoulder, he suddenly understood. It allowed them to carry fully loaded packboards on their backs. They must carry large quantities often, he thought.
Whinney walked behind Ayla, her head close to the woman’s shoulder. Jondalar, leading Racer by the halter, walked beside her. Talut fell back and walked just in front of them, and they exchanged a few words while they hiked. As people trudged along under their heavy loads, Ayla noticed an occasional glance in the direction of her and the horse.
After a while, Talut began humming a rhythmic tune under his breath. Soon, he was vocalizing sounds in time with their steps:
“Hus-na, dus-na, teesh-na, keesh-na.
Pec-na, sec-na, ha-na-nya.
