Jondalar shook out one garment, helping her to hang up the clothes, and discovered it was his tunic. He held it up to show her. "I thought you said you washed your clothes while you were waiting for me," he said.
"I washed yours after you changed. Too much sweat makes the leather rot, and they were getting badly stained," she explained.
He didn't recall worrying too much about sweat or stains when he had traveled with his brother, but he was rather pleased that Ayla did.
By the time they were ready to go into the river, Whinney was coming out. She stood on the bank with her legs spread apart, then started shaking her head. The vigorous shake worked back along her body all the way to her tail. Jondalar held up his arms to ward off the spray. Ayla, laughing, ran into the water and, with both hands, rapidly scooped out more water to splash at the man as he was wading in. As soon as he was knee deep, he returned the favor. Racer, who had finished his bath and was standing nearby, received a share of the dousing and backed away, then he headed for the shore. He liked water, but under conditions of his own choosing.
After they tired of playing and swimming, Ayla began to notice the possibilities for their evening meal. Growing out of the water were spearhead-shaped leaves and white three-petaled flowers that darkened to purple at the center, and she knew the starchy tuber of the plant was filling and good. She dug some out of the muddy bottom with her toes; the stems were fragile and broke off too easily to pull them out. As Ayla waded back to the shore, she also gathered water plantain to cook, and tangy watercress to eat raw. A regular pattern of small wide leaves growing out from a center that was floating on the surface drew her attention.
"Jondalar, be careful not to step on those water chestnuts," she said, pointing out the spiky seeds littering the sandy shore.
He picked one up to look more closely. Its four barbs were arranged in such a way that while one always caught the ground, the others pointed upward. He shook his head, then threw it down. Ayla bent to pick it up again, along with several others.
"These are not so good to step on," she said in answer to his quizzical look, "but they are good to eat."
On the shore, in the shade beside the water, she saw a familiar tall plant with blue-green leaves and looked around for any other plant with fairly large flexible leaves to protect her hands while she picked them. Though she would have to exercise care while they were fresh, the stinging nettle leaves would be delicious when cooked. A water dock, growing at the very edge of the water and standing nearly as tall as the man, had three-foot basal leaves that would work just fine, she decided, and they could be cooked, too. Nearby there was also coltsfoot and several kinds of ferns that had flavorful roots. The delta offered an abundance of foods.
Offshore, Ayla noticed an island of tall grass reeds with cattails growing along the edges. It was likely that cattails would always be a staple for them. They were widespread and prolific, and so many parts were edible, both the old roots, pounded to remove the fibers from the starch, which was made into dough or soup thickening, and the new roots, eaten fresh or cooked, along with the base of the flower stalks, not to mention the heavy concentration of pollen, which could also be made into a kind of bread, were all delicious. When young, the flowers, bunched together near the end of the tall stalk, like a piece of a cat's furry tail, were also tasty.
The rest of the plant was useful in other ways: the leaves for weaving into baskets and mats, and the fuzz from the flowers after they went to seed made absorbent padding and excellent tinder. Though with her iron pyrite firestones Ayla didn't need to use them, she knew that the previous year's dry woody stems could be twirled between the palms to make fire, or they could be used as fuel.
"Jondalar, let's take the boat and go out to that island to collect some cattails," Ayla said. "There's a lot of other good things to eat growing out there in the water, too, like the seed pods of those water lilies, and the roots. The rootstalks of those reeds are not bad either. They're under the water, but since we are wet from swimming anyway, we might as well get some. We can put everything in the boat to bring it back."
"You've never been here before. How do you know these plants are good to eat?" Jondalar asked as they unfastened the boat from the travois.
Ayla smiled. "There were marshy places like this near the sea not far from our cave on the peninsula. Not as big as this, but it got warm there in the summer, too, like it is here, and Iza knew the plants and where to find them. Nezzie told me about some others."
"I think you must know every plant there is."
"Many of them, but not every plant, especially around here. I wish there was someone I could ask. The woman on that big island, who left while she was cleaning roots, would probably know. I'm sorry we couldn't visit with them," Ayla said.
Her disappointment was apparent, and Jondalar knew how lonely she was for other people. He missed people, too, and wished they could have visited.
They brought the bowl boat to the edge of the water and scrambled in. The current was slow but more noticeable from the buoyant round craft, and they had to start using the paddles quickly to keep from being carried downstream. Away from shore and the disturbance they had caused with their bathing, the water was so clear that schools of fish could be seen darting over and around submerged plants. Some were of fairly good size and Ayla thought she would catch a few later.
They stopped at a concentration of water lilies that was so dense, they could hardly see the surface of the lagoon. When Ayla slipped out of the boat and into the water, it was not easy for Jondalar by himself to keep the bowl boat in place. The boat had a tendency to spin when he attempted to back-paddle, but when Ayla's feet found the bottom while she was holding on to the side, the small floating bowl steadied. Using the stems of the flowers as a guide, she searched out the roots with her toes and loosened them from the soft soil, collecting them when they floated to the surface in a cloud of silt.
When Ayla hoisted herself back into the boat, she sent it spinning again, but with both of them using the paddles, they got it under control, then aimed for the island that was densely covered with reeds. When they drew near, Ayla noticed that it was the smaller variety of cattail that grew so thickly near the edge, along with bay willow brush, some nearly the size of trees.
They paddled into the heavy growth looking for a bank or sandy shore, forcing their way through the vegetation. But when they pulled the reeds aside, they could not find solid ground, not even a submerged sandbar, and after they pushed through, the passage they made closed rapidly behind them. Ayla felt a sense of foreboding, and Jondalar an eerie feeling of being captured by some unseen presence as the jungle of tall reeds surrounded them. Overhead they saw pelicans flying, but they had a dizzying impression that their straight flight was curving around. When they looked between the large grassy stalks, back the way they had come, the opposite shore seemed to be slowly revolving past them.
"Ayla, we're moving! Turning!" Jondalar said, suddenly realizing that it was not the land opposite but they who were revolving as the winding stream swung the boat and the entire island around.
"Let's get out of this place," she said, reaching for her paddle.
The islands in the delta were impermanent at best, always subject to the whims of the Great Mother of rivers. Even those that supported a rich growth of reeds could wash out from underneath, or the growth that started on a shallow island could become so dense that it would extend a tangle of vegetation out over water.