Without having to get close enough to put themselves in danger from a swift, break-away charge, Ayla and Jondalar could take their pick of the animals standing their ground and aim from a safe distance. It was almost too easy, although they had to be accurate and throw hard to make sure the spear would penetrate the dense undercoat.
With several varieties of animals to choose from, they didn't often lack for food, and they frequently left the less choice pieces of meat for other carnivores and scavengers. It wasn't a matter of waste but of need Their high-protein diet of lean meat often left them less than satisfied, even when they had eaten their fill. Inner barks, and teas made from the needles and twig tips of trees offered only limited relief.
Omnivorous humans could subsist on a variety of foods, and proteins were essential, but not adequate alone. People had been known to die of protein starvation without, at least, one or the other of vegetable produce or fats. Traveling at the end of winter with very little in the way of plant food, they needed fat to survive, but it was so late in the season that the animals they hunted had used most of their own reserves. The travelers selectively took the meat and inner organs that contained the most fat, and left the lean, or gave it to Wolf. He found ample nourishment on his own from the woods and plains along the way.
Another animal did inhabit the region, and though they always noticed them, neither Jondalar nor Ayla could bring themselves to hunt horses. Their fellow travelers fared well enough on the rough dry grass, mosses, lichens, and even small twigs and thin bark.
Ayla and Jondalar traveled west, following the course of the river and angling slightly north, with the massif across the river pacing them. When the river turned somewhat southwest, Jondalar knew they were getting close. The depression between the ancient northern highland and the southern mountains climbed upward toward a wild landscape that outcropped in rugged crags. They passed the place where three streams joined to form the recognizable beginning of the Great Mother River, then crossed over and followed the left bank of the middle course, the Middle Mother. It was the one that Jondalar had been told was considered the true Mother River, though any one of the three could have been.
Reaching what was essentially the beginning of the great river was not the profound experience that Ayla had thought it might be. The Great Mother River didn't spring forth from some clearly defined place, like the great inland sea where she ended. There was no clear beginning, and even the boundary of the northern territory, considered flathead country, was uncertain, but Jondalar had a familiar feeling about the area they were in. He thought they were close to the edge of the actual glacier, though they had been traveling over snow for some time and it was hard to tell.
Although it was only afternoon, they decided to start looking for a place to set up camp, and they cut across the land to the right bank of the upper feeder. They decided to stop ahead, just beyond the valley of a fairly large stream that joined from the north side.
When Ayla saw an exposed gravel bar beside the river, she stopped to pick out several smooth round stones that would be perfect for her sling, and she put them in her pouch. She thought she might go hunting for ptarmigan or white hare later in the afternoon, or perhaps the next morning.
Memories of their short stay with the Losadunai were already fading, replaced by concerns about the glacier ahead, particularly for Jondalar. On foot and heavily loaded, they had been traveling more slowly than he had planned and he feared the end of the long winter would come too soon. The arrival of spring was always unpredictable, but this was one year that he hoped it would be late.
They unloaded the horses and set up their camp. Since it was early, they decided to hunt fresh meat. They entered a lightly wooded area and came across deer tracks, which surprised them both and worried Jondalar. He hoped that returning deer were not a sign that spring would soon follow. Ayla signaled Wolf, and they continued through the woods single file, with Jondalar in front. Ayla followed close behind, with Wolf at her heel. She did not want him dashing off and scaring away their prey.
They followed the trail through the open woods toward a high jutting outcrop that blocked their view ahead. Ayla saw Jondalar's shoulders slump and the tension of his stalking relax, and she understood why when the tracks of the deer showed that it had bounded away. Something had obviously scared it off.
They both froze at the sound of Wolf's low growl. He sensed something and they had come to respect his warnings. Ayla was sure she heard scuffling noises from the other side of the large rock projecting out of the earth and blocking their path. She and Jondalar looked at each other; the man had heard it too. They crept ahead slowly, edging around the outcrop. Then there were shouts, the sound of something landing heavily, and, almost simultaneously, a scream of agony.
There was a quality to the scream that sent a chill down Ayla's back, a chill of recognition. "Jondalar! Someone's in trouble!" she said, dashing around the stone.
"Wait, Ayla! It could be dangerous!" he called in warning, but it was already too late. Clutching his spear, he raced to catch up.
Around the outcrop, several young men were struggling with someone on the ground who was trying to fight them off without much success. Others were making crude remarks to a man who was on his knees and stretched out on top of a person that two others were trying to hold down.
"Hurry up, Danasi! How much more help do you need? This one's struggling."
"Maybe he needs help finding it."
"He just doesn't know what to do with it."
"Then give someone else a chance."
Ayla caught a glimpse of blond hair and, with an angry feeling of disgust, she realized that they were holding down a woman and she knew what they were trying to do. As she ran toward them, she had another insight. Perhaps it was the shape of a leg or an arm, or the sound of a voice, but suddenly she knew it was a Clan woman – a blond Clan woman! She was stunned, but only for a moment.
Wolf was growling, eager, but watching Ayla and holding back.
"It must be Charoli's band!" Jondalar said, coming up behind her.
He dropped off his hunting pack with his spear holder, and in a few long strides he reached the three men who were molesting the woman. He grabbed the one on top by the back of his parka at the scruff of his neck and yanked him off the woman. Then he stepped around and, doubling up his fist, slammed it into the man's face. The man dropped to the ground. The other two gaped in shock, then let go of the woman and turned to attack the stranger. One jumped on his back, while the other threw punches at his face and chest. The big man flung off the one on his back, took a hard blow to his shoulder, and countered with a powerful belt to the stomach of the man in front of him.
The woman rolled over and backed off to get away when the two men went after Jondalar, and she ran toward the other group of struggling men. While one man was doubled over in pain, Jondalar turned to the other. Ayla saw the first one struggling to get up.
"Wolf! Help Jondalar! Get those men!" she said, signaling to the animal.
The big wolf raced eagerly into the fray, while she dropped her pack, loosened the sling from around her head, and reached into her pouch for stones. One man of the three was down again, and she watched another, with terror in his eyes, fling up an arm to fend off the huge wolf that was coming for him. The animal jumped up on his hind legs, sank his teeth into the arm of a heavy winter coat, and ripped off the sleeve, while Jondalar landed a solid punch on the jaw of the third.