Ayla's expression turned pensive. "I never really learned to laugh until then. The people of the Clan didn't laugh out loud. They didn't like unnecessary noises, and loud sounds were usually meant for warnings. And that look you like, with teeth showing, that we call a smile? They made it to mean they were nervous, or feeling protective and defensive, or with a certain hand sign as implying a threatening gesture. It wasn't a happy look to them. They didn't like it when I was little if I smiled or laughed, so I learned not to do it very much."
They rode along the river's edge for a distance, on a flat, wide stretch of gravel. "Many people smile when they're nervous, and when they meet strangers," Jondalar said. "It's not meant to be defensive or threatening, though. I think a smile is meant to show that you're not afraid."
Going ahead in single file, Ayla leaned to the side to guide her horse around some brush growing beside a streamlet that was making its way to the river. After Jondalar had developed the halter device that he used to guide Racer, Ayla also started using one to help lead Whinney occasionally, or to tie her to something to keep her in one location, but even when the horse was wearing it, Ayla never used it when she was riding. She had never intended to train the animal when she first got on the mare's back, and the mutual learning process had been gradual and, in the beginning, unconscious. Though once she realized what was happening, the woman did purposely train the horse to do certain things, it was always within the framework of the deep understanding that had grown between them.
"But if a smile is meant to show that you are not afraid, doesn't that mean you think you have nothing to be afraid of? That you feel strong and have nothing to fear?" Ayla said, when they rode abreast again.
"I never really thought about it before. Thonolan always smiled and seemed so confident when he met new people, but he wasn't always as sure as he seemed. He tried to make people think that he wasn't afraid, so I suppose you could say it was a defensive gesture, a way of saying I'm so strong I have nothing to fear from you."
"And isn't showing your strength a way of threatening? When Wolf shows his teeth to strangers, isn't he showing them his strength?" Ayla pressed.
"There may be something about them that is the same, but there is a big difference between a smile of greeting and Wolf baring his teeth and growling."
"Yes, that's true," Ayla conceded. "A smile makes you feel happy."
"Or at least relieved. If you've met a stranger and he smiles back at you, that usually means you've been welcomed, so you know where you stand. Not all smiles are necessarily meant to make you happy."
"Maybe feeling relieved is the beginning of feeling happy," Ayla said. They rode together in silence for a while; then the woman continued. "I think there is something similar about a person smiling in greeting when he is feeling nervous around strangers, and people of the Clan having a gesture in their language of showing their teeth that means they're nervous or implying a threat. And when Wolf shows his teeth to strangers, he's threatening them because he's feeling nervous and protective."
"Then when he shows his teeth to us, to his own pack, it's his smile," Jondalar said. "There are times when I'm convinced he's smiling, and I know he teases you. I'm sure he loves you, too, but the trouble is, it's natural for him to show his teeth and threaten people he doesn't know. If he's protecting you, how are you going to train him to stay where you tell him, if you're not there? How can you teach him not to attack strangers if he decides he wants to?" Jondalar's concern was serious. He wasn't sure that taking the animal with them was such a good idea. Wolf could create a lot of problems. "Remember, wolves attack to get their food; that's the way the Mother made them. Wolf is a hunter. You can teach him many things, but how can you teach a hunter not to be a hunter? Not to attack strangers?"
"You were a stranger when you came to my valley, Jondalar. Do you remember when Baby came back to visit me and found you there?" Ayla asked, as they again separated into single file to start up a gully leading away from the river toward the highland.
Jondalar felt a flush of heat, not exactly embarrassment, but a recollection of the strong emotions of that encounter. He had never been so scared in his life; he had been sure he was going to die.
It took some time to pick their way up the shallow ravine, around rocks that washed down during spring floods, and black-stemmed artemisia brush that burst into life when the rains came and retreated into dry stalks that appeared dead when they stopped. He thought about the time Baby came back to the place where Ayla had raised him and found a stranger on the broad ledge in front of her small cave.
None of them were small, but Baby was the biggest cave lion he'd ever seen, nearly as tall as Whinney, and more massive. Jondalar was still recovering from the mauling that same lion, or his mate, had given him earlier when he and his brother had foolishly broached their den. It was the last thing Thonolan was ever to do. Jondalar was sure he was seeing his last moments when the cave lion roared and gathered himself to spring. Suddenly Ayla was between them, holding up her hand in a motion to stop, and the lion stopped! It would have been comical the way that huge beast pulled himself up short and twisted around to avoid her, if he hadn't been so petrified. The next thing he knew, she was scratching the gigantic cat and playing with him.
"Yes, I remember," he said, when they reached the highland and again rode side by side. "I still don't know how you made him stop in the middle of that attack on me."
"When Baby was just a cub, he made a game of attacking me, but when he started to grow, he got too big for me to play that kind of game with him. He was too rough. I had to teach him to stop," Ayla explained. "Now I have to teach Wolf not to attack strangers, and to stay behind if I want him to. Not only so he won't hurt people, but so they won't hurt him."
"If anyone can teach him, Ayla, you can," Jondalar said. She had made her point, and if she could, it would make Wolf easier to travel with, but he still wondered how much trouble the wolf might cause them. He had delayed their crossing the river and chewed up their things, though Ayla had apparently worked out that problem, too. It wasn't that he didn't like the animal. He did. It was fascinating to observe a wolf so closely, and it surprised him how friendly and affectionate Wolf was, but he did require extra time, attention, and provisions. The horses took some extra care, but Racer was so responsive to him, and they were a real help. The trip back was going to be difficult enough; they didn't need the added burden of an animal that was almost as worrisome as a child.
A child, that would be a problem, Jondalar thought as he rode. I only hope the Great Earth Mother doesn't give Ayla a child before we get back. If we were already there and settled, it would be different. Then we could think about children. Not that we can do anything about it, anyway, except ask the Mother. I wonder what it would be like to have a small one around?
What if Ayla is right? What if children are started by Pleasures? But we've been together for some time, and there are no signs of children yet. It has to be Doni who puts the baby inside a woman, but what if the Mother decides not to give Ayla a child? She did have one, even if it was mixed. Once Doni gives one, She usually gives more. Maybe it's me. I wonder, can Ayla have a baby that would come from my spirit? Can any woman?