The falls hadn't yet frozen when he and Thonolan first arrived, but his brother was in no shape to make the precarious ascent. They were both lifted up in a basket.
When he saw her from that perspective for the first time, Jondalar began to understand the full extent of the Great Mother River. The blood had drained from his face; his heart pounded with the shock of comprehension as he looked down at the water and the rounded mountains across the river. He was awed and overcome with a deep reverence for the Mother whose birth waters had formed the river in her wondrous act of creation.
He had since learned there was a longer, easier, if less spectacular ascent to the high embayment. It was part of a trail that extended from west to east over the mountain passes and dropped down to the broad river plain on the eastern end of the gate. The western part of the trail, in the highlands and foothills leading to the start of the series of gorges, was more rugged, but parts of it dipped to the river's edge. They were heading to one such place.
The boat was already pulling out of midchannel toward an excitedly waving group of people lining a beach of gray sand when a gasp caused the older brother to look around.
"Jondalar, look!" Thonolan was pointing upstream.
Bearing down on them in ominous splendor, following the deep midchannel, was a large, jagged, glittering iceberg. Reflecting crystal facets of the translucent edges haloed the monolith with insubstantial shimmer, but the blue-green shadowy depths held its unmelted heart. With practiced skill, the men rowing the boat changed pace and direction, then, feathering the stroke, they paused to watch a wall of glistening cold glide by with deadly indifference.
"Never turn your back on the Mother," Jondalar heard the man in front of him say.
"I'd say the Sister brought that one, Markeno," the man beside him commented.
"How did… big ice… come here, Carlono?" Jondalar asked him.
"Iceberg," Carlono said, first supplying him with the word. "It could have come from a glacier on the move in one of those mountains," he went on, moving his chin in the direction of the white peaks over his shoulder, since he had resumed rowing. "Or it could have come from farther north, probably by way of the Sister. She's deeper, doesn't have as many channels – this time of year especially. There's more to that berg than the part you see. Most of it is underwater."
"It is hard to believe… iceberg… so big, come so far," Jondalar said.
"We get ice every spring. Not always that big. It won't last much longer, though – the ice is rotten. One good bump and she'll break up, and there is a midchannel rock downstream, just below the surface. I don't think that iceberg will make it through the gate," Carlono added.
"One good bump from that and we would be the ones to break up," Markeno said. "That's why you never turn your back on the Mother."
"Markeno is right," Carlono said. "Never take her for granted. This river can find some unpleasant ways to remind you to pay attention to her."
"I know some women like that, don't you, Jondalar?"
Jondalar suddenly thought of Marona. The knowing smile on his brother's face made him realize that was who Thonolan had in mind. He hadn't thought of the woman who had expected him to mate her at the Summer Meeting Matrimonial for some time. With a pang of longing, he wondered if he would ever see her again. She was a beautiful woman. But then Serenio is too, he thought, maybe you ought to ask her. She's better than Marona in some ways. Serenio was older than he, but he'd often found himself attracted to older women. Why not mate when Thonolan did and just stay?
How long have we been gone? More than a year – we left Dalanar's Cave last spring. And Thonolan won't be going back. Everyone is excited about him and Jetamio – maybe you should wait, Jondalar, he said to himself. You don't want to take the attention from their day… and Serenio might think it was just an afterthought… Later…
"What took you so long?" a voice called from the shore. "We've been waiting for you and we came the long way, by trail."
"We had to find these two. I think they were trying to hide," Markeno replied, laughing.
"It's too late to hide now, Thonolan. This one has hooked you!" said a man from the shore, wading in behind Jetamio to grab the boat and help beach it. He made motions of throwing out a harpoon and jerking it back to engage the hook.
Jetamio blushed, then smiled. "Well, you must admit, Barono, he's a good catch."
"You good fisher," Jondalar returned. "He always before get away."
Everyone laughed. Though his command of the language wasn't perfect, they were pleased he had joined in the banter. And he did understand better than he spoke.
"What would it take to catch a big one like you, Jondalar?" Barono asked.
"The right bait!" Thonolan quipped, with a smile at Jetamio.
The boat was pulled onto the narrow beach of gravelly sand, and, after the occupants climbed out, it was lifted and carried up a slope to a large cleared area in the midst of a dense forest of durmast oak. The place had obviously been used for years. Logs, chunks, and scraps of wood littered the ground – the fireplace in front of a large lean-to on one side had no dearth of fuel – yet some wood had been there so long it was rotting. Activity was focused in several areas – each of them containing a boat in some stage of completion.
The boat they had come in was lowered to the ground, and the new arrivals hurried toward the beckoning warmth of the fire. Several others stopped work to join them. An aromatic herb tea was steaming from a wooden trough that had been hollowed out of a log. It was quickly emptied as cups were dipped out. Round heating stones from the river's edge were heaped in a pile nearby, and a soggy lump of wet leaves, indistinguishable as to variety, sat in the middle of a muddy runnel behind the log.
The trough was well used and about to be refilled again. Two people rolled over the large log to dump the dregs of the previous batch of tea, while a third put the heating rocks in the fire. Tea was kept in the trough, available whenever anyone wanted a cup, and cooking stones were kept in the fire to warm a cup when it cooled. After more pleasantries and gibes aimed at the about-to-be-mated couple, the assemblage put down their cups of wood or tightly woven fibers and drifted back to their various tasks. Thonolan was led off to begin his initiation in the building of boats with some hard work that took less skilclass="underline" the felling of a tree.
Jondalar had been having a conversation with Carlono about the Ramudoi leader's favorite topic, boats, and had encouraged him with questions. "What wood makes good boats?" Jondalar had asked.
Carlono, enjoying himself and the interest of the obviously intelligent young man, launched into an animated explanation.
"Green oak is best. It's tough, but supple; strong, but not too heavy. It loses flexibility if it dries out, but you can cut it in winter and store logs in a pool or bog for a year, even two. More than that, it becomes waterlogged and hard to work, and the boat has trouble finding the right balance in the water. But more important is selecting the right tree." Carlono was heading into the woods as he talked.
"A big one?" Jondalar asked.
"Not only size. For the base and the planks, you want tall trees with straight trunks." Carlono led the tall Zelandonii to a grove of close-packed trees. "In dense woods, trees grow up looking for the sun…"
"Jondalar!" The older brother looked up with surprise at Thonolan's voice. He was standing with several others around a huge oak, surrounded by other tall straight trees whose branches started far up the stem. "Am I glad to see you! Your little brother could use your help. Do you know I can't get mated until a new boat is built, and this," he nodded expressively at the tall tree, "has to be cut down for the 'strakes,' whatever they are. Look at the size of that mammoth! I didn't know trees grew that big – it will take forever to cut it down. Big Brother, I'll be an old man before I'm a mated one."