“It probably would, but do you think Zelandoni could learn to ride?” Jondalar asked.
“She wouldn’t have to. We could make a comfortable seat on the pole-drag for her and Whinney could pull her,” Ayla said.
Jondalar’s forehead wrinkled as he thought about it, then he nodded his head. “I don’t see why not,” he said.
“Zelandoni said sometime she’d be willing to try to see if Whinney could pull her, and I said, ‘This is as good a time as any.’ ”
Zelandoni glanced at Jondalar and detected a glint of enjoyment in his eyes, then looked at Ayla and tried to think of a way to put it off. “You said you would have to make a seat. You don’t have one made yet,” she said.
“That’s true, but you didn’t think Whinney could pull you. You don’t need a seat to try it and see if she can. I don’t have any doubt, but it might reassure you, and give us a chance to think about how to make a seat,” Ayla said.
Zelandoni felt that somehow she had been snared. She didn’t really want to do this, especially not right away, but she didn’t think she could get out of it now. Then, recognizing that in her eagerness to have Ayla begin her Donier Tour, she had done it to herself, she heaved a big sigh and stood up. “Well, let’s get it over with then,” she said.
When she lived in her valley, Ayla had thought of a way to use her horse to transport things of considerable size and weight, such as an animal she had hunted—and once, Jondalar, wounded and unconscious. It consisted of two poles attached together at the shoulders of the horse with a kind of strap made of thongs that went across Whinney’s chest. The opposite ends of the poles spread out and rested on the ground behind the horse. Because only the very small surface area of the ends of the poles were dragged on the ground, it was relatively easy to pull them, even over rough terrain, especially for the sturdy horses. A platform made of planks or leather hides or basketry fibers was stretched across the poles to carry the loads, but Ayla wasn’t sure if the flexible platform would hold the large woman without bending down to the ground.
“Finish your tea,” Ayla said as the woman started to get up. “I need to find Folara or someone to watch Jonayla. I don’t want to wake her up.”
She returned quickly, but not with Folara. Instead Lanoga, Tremeda’s daughter, followed Ayla in, carrying her youngest sister, Lorala. Ayla had tried to assist Lanoga and the rest of the children almost since she arrived. She couldn’t ever remember being so angry with anyone as she was with Tremeda and Laramar because of the way they neglected their children, but there was nothing she could do about it—nothing anyone could do—except help the young ones.
“We won’t be gone long, Lanoga. I should be back before Jonayla wakes up. We’re just going to the horse shelter,” Ayla said, then added, “There’s some soup behind the fireplace with several good pieces of meat left and a few vegetables, if you or Lorala are hungry.”
“Lorala might be. She hasn’t eaten since I brought her to Stelona to nurse this morning,” Lanoga said.
“You have something, too, Lanoga,” Ayla said as they were leaving. She thought Stelona had probably given her something to eat, but was sure the girl hadn’t eaten since the morning meal either.
When they were some distance from the dwelling, and Ayla was sure she wouldn’t be overheard, she finally voiced her anger. “I’m going to have to go over there and check to see if there’s any food for the children.”
“You brought food over there two days ago,” Jondalar said. “It shouldn’t be all gone yet.”
“You must know that Tremeda and Laramar are eating it, too,” Zelandoni said. “You can’t prevent them. And if you bring grain or fruit, or anything that will ferment, Laramar will take it and add it to the birch sap for his barma. I’ll stop by on the way back for the children and take them with me. I can find someone to give them an evening meal. You shouldn’t be the only one feeding them, Ayla. There are enough people in the Ninth Cave to make sure those children get enough to eat.”
When they reached the horse shelter, Ayla and Jondalar gave Whinney and Gray some individual attention. Then from the end of a post, Ayla got the special harness she used for the pole-drag and led the mare outside. Jondalar wondered where Racer was, and looked over the edge of the stone porch at The River to see if he could catch sight of him, but he didn’t seem to be nearby. He started to whistle for him, then changed his mind. He didn’t need the stallion now. He would look for him later, after they got Zelandoni on the travois.
Ayla looked around the horse shelter and noticed some planks that had been pried out of a log with wedges and a maul. She had planned to make additional feeding boxes for the horses with them, but then Jonayla was born, and they kept using ones she had made before, and she never got around to making more. Since they were kept under the overhanging ledge, protected from the worst of the weather, they seemed to be usable.
“Jondalar, I think we need to make a platform that won’t bend so easily, for Zelandoni. Do you think we could fasten these planks across the poles to use as a base for a seat?” Ayla asked.
He looked at the poles and the planks, and then at the abundantly endowed woman. His forehead wrinkled in a familiar knot. “It’s a good idea, Ayla, but the poles are flexible, too. We can try it, but we may have to use sturdier ones.”
There were always thongs or cords around the horse shelter. Jondalar and Ayla used some to fasten the planks across the poles. When they were done, the three of them stood back and looked at their handiwork.
“What do you think, Zelandoni? The planks are slanting, but we can fix that later,” Jondalar said. “Do you think you could sit on them?”
“I’ll try, but it may be a little high for me.”
While they were working, the Donier had become interested in the apparatus they were making
, and was curious herself to see how it would work. Jondalar had devised a halter for Whinney similar to the one he used for Racer, though Ayla seldom used it herself. She usually rode bareback with only a leather riding blanket, directing the animal with her position and the pressure of her legs, but for special circumstances, especially when other people were involved, it gave her an added measure of control.
While Ayla put the halter on the mare, making sure Whinney was calm, Jondalar and Zelandoni went to the reinforced travois behind the horse. The planks were a bit high, but Jondalar lent his strong arm and gave her a boost. The poles did bend under her weight, enough that her feet could touch the ground, but it gave her the feeling that she could get down easily enough. The slanting seat did feel somewhat precarious, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
“Are you ready?” Ayla asked.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Zelandoni said.
Ayla started Whinney at a slow walk in the direction of Down River. Jondalar walked behind, smiling encouragingly at Zelandoni. Then Ayla led the horse under the overhanging shelf and made a wide complete turn until they were facing in the opposite direction, and headed toward the east end of the front ledge, toward the dwellings.
“I think you should stop now, Ayla,” the woman said.