She reached for another spear, making sure it was seated right—that the point, which was affixed to a short length of tapering shaft made to detach from the main spear shaft, was firmly in place and the hole in the butt of the long spear shaft was engaging the hook at the back of the spear-thrower. Then she looked around again. The huge male was down, but moving, bleeding but not dead. Her female was also bleeding, but not moving.
The lions were disappearing into the grass as fast as they could, at least one leaving a trail of blood. The human hunters were gathering themselves together, looking around and beginning to smile at each other.
“I think we did it,” Palidar said, a huge grin starting.
He had barely gotten the words out when Wolf’s menacing growl caught Ayla’s attention. The wolf bounded away from the human hunters with Ayla on his heels. The heavily bleeding male lion was up and coming at them again. With a roar, he sprang toward them. Ayla could almost feel his anger, and she didn’t really blame him.
Just as Wolf reached the lion and leaped up to attack, keeping himself between Ayla and the big cat, she flung her spear as hard as she could. Her eye caught another one hurled at the same time. They landed almost simultaneously with an audible thunk, and thunk. Both the lion and the wolf crumpled in a heap. Ayla gasped when she saw them fall, swathed in blood, afraid that Wolf was hurt.
2
Ayla saw the heavy paw of the lion moving, and caught her breath, wondering if the big male could still be alive with all the spears in him. Then she recognized Wolf’s bloody head working its way out from under the huge limb, and rushed toward him, still not sure if he was injured. The wolf squirmed free of the forearm of the lion, then grabbed the paw with his teeth and shook it with such vigor, she knew it had to be the blood of the lion on him, not his own. Jondalar was at her side the next moment and they walked toward the lion together, smiling with relief at the wolf’s antics.
“I’m going to have to take Wolf to the river to get him cleaned up,” Ayla said. “That’s all lion’s blood.”
“I’m sorry we had to kill him,” Jondalar said quietly. “He was such a magnificent beast, and only defending his own.”
“I feel sorry, too. He reminded me of Baby, but we had to defend our own. Think how much worse we would feel if one of those lions had killed a child,” Ayla said, looking down at the huge predator.
After a pause, Jondalar said, “We can both lay claim to him; only our spears reached him, and only yours killed this female who stood by his side.”
“I think I may have hit another lioness, too, but I don’t need to claim any part of that one,” Ayla said. “You should take what you want of the male. I’ll take this female’s pelt and tail, and her claws and teeth as tokens of this hunt.”
They both stood silently for a while, then Jondalar said, “I am grateful that the hunt was a success and no one was hurt.”
“I would like to honor them in some way, Jondalar, to acknowledge my respect for the Cave Lion Spirit, and show gratitude to my totem.”
“Yes, I think we should. It is customary to thank the spirit when we make a kill, and to ask the spirit to thank the Great Earth Mother for the food she has allowed us to take. We can thank the Cave Lion Spirit and ask the spirit to thank the Mother for allowing us to take these lions to protect our families and our Caves.” Jondalar paused. “We can give this lion a drink of water so the spirit won’t arrive in the next world thirsty. Some people also bury the heart, give it back to the Mother. I think we should do both for this great lion who gave his life defending his pride.”
“I will do the same for the female who stood with him, fighting at his side,” Ayla said. “I think my Cave Lion Totem protected me, and maybe all the rest of us. The Mother could have chosen to let the Cave Lion Spirit take someone to compensate for the pride’s great loss. I am grateful She didn’t.”
“Ayla! You were right!”
She spun around at the sound of the voice and smiled at the Ninth Cave’s leader coming up behind them. “You said, ‘A wounded animal is unpredictable. And one with the strength and speed of a cave lion, hurt and wild with pain, could do anything.’ We shouldn’t have assumed that because that lion was down and bleeding, he wouldn’t try to attack again.” Joharran addressed the rest of the hunters who had come to see the lions they had killed. “We should have made sure he was dead.”
“What surprised me was that wolf,” Palidar said, looking at the animal, still covered with blood, nonchalantly sitting at Ayla’s feet, with his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. “He’s the one who warned us, but I never imagined a wolf would attack a cave lion, wounded or not.”
Jondalar smiled. “Wolf protects Ayla,” he said. “It doesn’t matter who or what it is, if it threatens her, he’ll attack it.”
“Even you, Jondalar?” he asked.
“Even me.”
There was an uncomfortable silence; then Joharran said, “How many lions did we get?” Several of the big cats were down, some with a number of spears in them.
“I count five,” Ayla said.
“The lions with spears from more than one person should be shared,” Joharran said. “Those hunters can decide what to do with them.”
“The only spears in the male and this female belong to Ayla and me, so we can claim them,” Jondalar said. “We did what was necessary, but they were defending their family and we want to honor their spirits. We don’t have a Zelandoni here, but we can give each a drink of water before we send them on their way to the spirit world, and we can bury their hearts, give them back to the Mother.”
The other hunters nodded in agreement.
Ayla walked to the lioness that she had killed and took out her waterbag. It was made of the carefully washed stomach of a deer, with the lower opening tied off. The upper opening was pulled up around a deer vertebra, with the projections cut away, and sinew wrapped tightly around it. The natural hole in the center of the section of spine made a more than serviceable pour spout. The stopper was a thin leather thong that had been knotted several times in the same place, and stuffed into the hole. She pulled out the knotted leather cord stopper, and took a mouthful. Then she kneeled over the head of the lioness, pulled it around and opened the jaws, and squirted the water from her mouth into the mouth of the big cat.
“We are thankful, Doni, Great Mother of All, and we are grateful to the Spirit of Cave Lion,” she said aloud. Then she began speaking with the silent hand signs of the formal language of the Clan, the one they used when addressing the spirit world, but in a quiet voice, she translated the meaning of the signs she was making. “This woman is grateful to the Spirit of the Great Cave Lion, the totem of this woman, for allowing a few of the Spirit’s living ones to fall to the spears of the people. This woman would express sorrow to the Great Spirit of the Cave Lion for the loss of the living ones. The Great Mother and the Cave Lion Spirit know it was necessary for the safety of the people, but this woman wants to express gratitude.”
She turned around to the group of hunters who were watching her. It wasn’t done in quite the manner they were used to, but it was fascinating to watch her, and felt utterly right to those hunters who had faced their fears to make their territory safer for themselves and for others. It also made them understand why their Zelandoni Who Was First had made this foreign woman her acolyte.