"Jondalar, I can't keep going. I'm exhausted. I've got to stop," Ayla said with a sob, then started crying. "We'll never make it."
He stopped, then went back and comforted her. "We're almost there, Ayla. Look. You can see how close the edge is."
"But we almost walked into a crevasse, and some of those puddles have become deep blue holes with streams falling into them."
"Do you want to stay here?" he said.
Ayla took a deep breath. "No, of course not," she said. "I don't know why I'm crying like this. If we stay here, we'll die for sure."
Jondalar worked his way around the large crack, but as they turned south again, the winds were as strong as any from the north had been, and they could feel the temperature rising. Rivulets turned into streams crisscrossing the ice and grew into rivers. They worked their way around two more large cracks and could see beyond the ice. They ran the last short distance, and then they stood looking down over the edge.
They had reached the other side of the glacier.
A waterfall of milky clouded water, glacier milk, was just below them, gushing out of the bottom of the ice. In the distance, below the snowline, was a thin cover of light green.
"Do you want to stop here and rest a while?" Jondalar asked, but he looked worried.
"I just want to get off this ice. We can rest when we reach that meadow," Ayla said.
"It's farther than it looks. This is not the place to rush or be careless. We'll rope ourselves together, and I think you should go first. If you slip, I can support your weight. Pick a way down carefully. We can lead the horses."
"No, I don't think we should. I think we should take off their halters and packs, and the pole drag, and let them find their own way down," Ayla said.
"Maybe you're right, but then we'll have to leave the packs here… unless…"
Ayla saw where he was looking. "Let's put everything in the bowl boat and let it slide down!" she said.
"Except a small pack with some necessities that we can take with us," he said, smiling.
"If we tie it all down well, and watch which way it goes, we should be able to find it."
"What if it breaks up?"
"What would break?"
"The frame could crack," Jondalar said, "but even if it did, the hide would probably hold it together."
"And whatever was inside would still be all right, wouldn't it?"
"It should be." Jondalar smiled. "I think that's a good idea."
After the round boat was repacked, Jondalar picked up the small pack of essentials while Ayla led Whinney. Although somewhat fearful of slipping, they walked along the edge looking for a way down. As if to make up for the delays and dangers they had endured in the crossing, they soon found the gradual slope of a moraine, with all its gravel, that appeared possible, just beyond a somewhat steeper grade of slick ice. They dragged the boat to the icy slope; then Ayla unfastened the travois. They removed all the halters and ropes from both animals, but not the mammoth-hide horse boots. Ayla checked them to make sure they were securely tied; they had conformed to the shape of the horses' hooves and now fit snugly. Then they led the horses to the top of the moraine.
Whinney nickered, and Ayla calmed her, calling her by the whinny name she was most familiar with, and she spoke in their language of signals and sounds and made-up words. "Whinney, you need to make your own way down," the woman said. "No one else can find your footing on this ice better than you can."
Jondalar reassured the young stallion. The descent would be dangerous, anything could happen, but at least they had gotten the horses across. They would have to get themselves down. Wolf was pacing nervously back and forth along the edge of the ice, the way he did when he was afraid to jump into a river.
With Ayla's urgings, Whinney was the first to go over the edge, picking her way carefully. Racer was close on her heels and soon outdistanced her. They came to a slick spot, slipped and slid, gained momentum, and moved down faster to keep up. They would be down safely – or not – by the time Ayla and Jondalar reached the bottom.
Wolf was whining at the top, his tail tucked between his legs, not ashamed to show the fear he felt as he watched the horses go.
"Let's push the boat over and get started. It's a long way down, and it won't be easy," Jondalar said.
As they pushed the boat near the steeper icy edge, Wolf suddenly jumped in it. "He must think we're getting ready to ride across a river," Ayla said. "I wish we could float down this ice." They both looked at each other and started to smile. "What do you think?" Jondalar said.
"Why not? You said it should hold together."
"But will we?"
"Let's find out!"
They shifted a few things around to make room, then climbed into the bowl-shaped boat with Wolf. Jondalar sent a hopeful thought to the Mother, and, using one of the travois poles, they pushed off.
"Hold on!" Jondalar said as they started over the edge.
They gained speed quickly, but headed straight ahead at first. Then they hit a bump and the boat bounced and spun around. They swerved sideward, then rode up a slight incline and found themselves in midair. They both screamed with the fearful excitement. They landed with a jolt that lifted them all up, the wolf included, then spun around again while they clutched the edge. The wolf was trying to crouch down and poke his nose over the side at the same time.
Ayla and Jondalar held on for all they were worth; it was all they could do. They had absolutely no control over the round boat that was racing down the side of the glacier. It zigged and zagged, bounced and spun around as though leaping with joy, but it was heavily loaded, bottom heavy enough to resist tipping over. Though the man and woman screamed involuntarily, they couldn't help smiling. It was the fastest, most thrilling ride either of them had ever taken, but it was not over.
They didn't think about how the ride would end, and, as they neared the bottom, Jondalar remembered the usual crevasse at the foot separating the ice from the ground below. A hard landing on gravel could throw them out and cause injury, or worse, but the sound didn't make an impression on him when he first heard it. It wasn't until they landed with a hard bump and a huge splash into the middle of a roaring waterfall of cloudy water that he realized their descent down the wet slippery ice had taken them back toward the river of meltwater that was gushing out of the bottom of the glacier.
They landed at the bottom of the falls with another splash, and soon they were floating calmly in the middle of a small lake of cloudy green glacier melt. Wolf was so happy that he was all over both of them, licking their faces. He finally sat down and lifted his head in a howl of greeting.
Jondalar looked at the woman, "Ayla, we made it! We made it! We're over the glacier!"
"We did, didn't we?" she said, smiling broadly. "That was a dangerous thing to do, though," he said. "We could have been hurt, or even killed."
"It may have been dangerous, but it was fun," Ayla said, her eyes still sparkling with excitement.
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and for all his concern about getting her home safely, he had to smile. "You're right. It was fun, and fitting, somehow. I don't think I'll ever try to cross a glacier again. Twice in one lifetime is enough, but I'm glad I can say I did it, and I'll never forget that ride."
"Now, all we have to do is reach that land over there," Ayla said, pointing toward the shore, "and then find Whinney and Racer."