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"My brother, Thonolan. He was a spearmaker," Jondalar explained, holding down the end of a small straight tree that he had formed into a curve, while she lashed it to a circular section with sinew made of a tendon from the hind legs of the aurochs.
"But what does spearmaking have to do with making a boat?"
"Thonolan could make a spear shaft perfectly straight and true. But to learn how to take the bend out of wood, you first have to learn how to bend wood, and he could do that just as well. He was much better at it than I am. He had a real feel for it. I suppose you could say his craft was not only making spears, but shaping wood. He could make the best snowshoes, and that means taking a straight branch or tree and bending it completely around. Maybe that's why he felt so much at home with the Sharamudoi. They were expert wood shapers. They used hot water and steam to bend out their dugouts to the shape they wanted."
"What is a dugout?" Ayla asked.
"It's a boat carved out of a whole tree. The front end is shaped to a fine edge, the back end, too, and it can glide through the water so easily and smoothly, it's like cutting with a sharp knife. They're beautiful boats. This one we're making is clumsy by comparison, but there are no big trees around here. You'll see dugouts when we reach the Sharamudoi."
"How much longer before we get there?"
"It's quite a long ways, yet. Beyond those mountains," he said, looking west, toward the high peaks indistinct in the summer haze.
"Oh," she said, feeling disappointed. "I was hoping it wouldn't be so far. It would be nice to see some people. I wish someone had been here at this Camp. Maybe they'll come back before we leave." Jondalar noticed a wistfulness in her tone.
"Are you lonely for people?" he asked. "You spent such a long time alone in your valley, I thought you'd be used to it."
"Maybe that's why. I spent enough time being alone. I don't mind it for a while, sometimes I like it, but we haven't seen any people for so long ... I just thought it would be fun to talk to someone," she said, then looked at him. "I'm so happy you are with me, Jondalar. It would be so lonely without you."
"I am happy, too, Ayla. Happy I didn't have to make this trip alone, happier than I can say that you came with me. I'm looking forward to seeing people, too. When we reach the Great Mother River, we should meet some. We've been traveling across country. People tend to live near fresh water, rivers or lakes, not out in the open."
Ayla nodded, then held the end of another slender sapling, which had been heating over hot rocks and steam, while Jondalar carefully bent it into a circle, then helped him lash it to the others. Judging from the size of it, she began to see that it would take the entire hide of the aurochs to cover it. There would be no more than a few scraps left over, not enough to make a new rawhide meat-keeper to replace the one she had lost in the flash flood. They needed the boat to cross the river, she would just have to think of something else to use. Maybe a basket would work, she thought, tightly woven, long in shape, and rather flat, with a lid. There were cattails and reeds and willows, plenty of basket-making materials around, but would a basket work?
The problem with carrying freshly killed meat was that blood continued to seep out, and no matter how tightly woven, it would eventually leak through a basket. That was why thick, hard rawhide worked so well. It absorbed the blood, but slowly, and didn't leak, and after a period of use, could be washed and redried. She needed something that would do the same thing. She'd have to think about it.
The problem of replacing her parfleche stayed on her mind, and when the frame was finished, and they left it to wait for the sinew to dry hard and firm, Ayla headed down to the river to collect some basket-making materials. Jondalar went with her but only as far as the birch woods. Since he was all set up for shaping wood, he decided to make some new spears, to replace those that had been lost or broken.
Wymez had given him some good flint before he left, roughed out and preshaped so that new points could be made easily. He had made the bone-pointed spears before they left the Summer Meeting, to show how they were done. They were typical of the kind his people used, but he had learned how to make the flint-tipped Mamutoi spears as well, and because he was a skilled flint knapper, they were faster for him to make than shaping and smoothing bone points.
In the afternoon Ayla started to make a special meat-keeping basket. When she lived in the valley, she had spent many long winter nights easing her loneliness by making baskets and mats, among other things, and she had become very quick and adept at weaving. She could almost make a basket in the dark, and her new carrying container for meat was finished before she went to bed. It was made extremely well, she had thought carefully about the shape and size, materials and tightness of weave, but she wasn't quite satisfied with it.
She went out in the darkening twilight to change her absorbent wool and wash the piece she was wearing in the small stream. She put it near the fire to dry, but out of
Jondalar's sight. Then, without quite looking at him, she lay down in their sleeping furs beside him. Women of the Clan were taught to avoid men as much as possible when they bled, and never to look at them directly. It made Clan men very nervous to be around women during that time. It had surprised her that Jondalar had no qualms about it, but she still felt uncomfortable, and she took pains to be discreet in caring for herself.
Jondalar had always been considerate of her during her moon times, sensing her disquiet, but once she was in bed, he leaned over to kiss her. Though she kept her eyes closed, she responded with warmth, and when he rolled over on his back again, and they were lying side by side watching the play of firelight on the walls and ceilings of the comfortable structure, they talked, though she was careful not to look at him.
"I'd like to coat that hide after it's mounted on the frame," he said.
"If I boil up the hooves and scraps of hide and some bones together with water for a long time, it will make a very thick and sticky kind of broth, that dries hard. Do we have something that I can use to cook that in?"
"I'm sure we can think of something. Does it have to cook long?"
"Yes. It does need to cook down, to thicken."
"Then it might be best to cook it directly over the fire, like a soup... maybe a piece of hide. We'll have to watch it, and keep adding water, but as long as it stays wet, it won't burn ... wait. What about the stomach of that aurochs? I've been keeping water in it, so it wouldn't dry out, and to have it handy for cooking and washing, but it would make a good cooking bag," Ayla said.
"I don't think so," Jondalar said. "We don't want to keep adding water. We want it to get thick."
"Then I suppose a good watertight basket and hot stones might be best. I can make one in the morning," Ayla said, but as she lay quietly, her mind wouldn't let her sleep. She kept thinking that there was a better way to boil down the mixture Jondalar wanted to make. She just could not quite think of it. She was nearly asleep when it came to her. "Jondalar! Now I remember."
He, too, was dozing off but was jerked awake. "Huh! What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I just remembered how Nezzie rendered out fat, and I think it would be the best way to cook your thick stuff. You dig a shallow hole in the ground, in the shape of a bowl, and line it with a piece of hide—there should be a big enough piece left from the aurochs for that. Break up some bones and scatter them over the bottom, then put in the water and the hooves and whatever else you want. You can boil it for as long as we keep heating stones, and the little pieces of bone will keep the hot stones from actually touching the leather, so it won't burn through."
"Good, Ayla. That's what we'll do," Jondalar said, still half-asleep. He rolled over and was soon snoring.
But there was still something else on Ayla's mind that kept her awake. She had planned to leave the aurochs's stomach for the people of the Camp to use as a waterbag when they left, but it needed to be kept wet. Once it dried out, it got stiff, and would not go back to its original, pliable, nearly waterproof condition. Even if she filled it with water, it would eventually seep out and evaporate away, and she didn't know when the people would return.
