The Mammoth Hunters by Jean M. Auel
“Is like digging stick, I think,” she said, looking to Talut for confirmation.
He smiled. “Yes, it’s a mattock. We use pointed digging sticks, too, sometimes. They are easier to make in a hurry, but this is easier to use.”
Then he showed her a shovel made from the wide palmation of a giant antler of a megaceros, split lengthwise through the spongy center, then shaped and sharpened. Antlers of young animals were used; the antlers of mature giant deer could reach eleven feet in length, and were too big. The handle was attached by means of strong cord strung through three pairs of holes bored down the center. It was used, spongy side down, not to dig, but for scooping up and throwing out the fine loess soil loosened by the mattock, or, if they chose, for snow. He also had a second shovel, more scoop-shaped, made from an outer section of ivory flaked from a mammoth tusk.
“These are shovels,” Talut said, telling her the name. Ayla nodded. She had used flat pieces of bone and antler in much the same way, but her shovels had had no handles.
“I’m just glad the weather stayed nice for a while after you left,” the headman continued. “As it is, we didn’t dig down as far as we usually would. The ground is already hard underneath. Next year, we can dig down deeper and make some storage pits, too, maybe even a sweatbath, when we get back from the Summer Meeting.”
“Weren’t you going to hunt again, when the weather got nice?” Jondalar said.
“The bison hunt was very successful, and Mamut isn’t having much luck Searching. All he seems to find are the few bison we missed, and it isn’t worthwhile to go after them. We decided to make the addition instead, to make a place for the horses, since Ayla and her horse were such a help.”
“Mattock and shovel make easier, Talut, but is work … a lot of digging,” Ayla said, surprised and a little overcome.
“We had a lot of people to work at it, Ayla. Nearly everyone thought it was a good idea and wanted to help … to make you welcome.”
The young woman felt a sudden rush of emotion and closed her eyes to control tears of gratitude that threatened. Jondalar and Talut saw her, and turned aside out of consideration.
Jondalar examined the walls, still intrigued with the construction. “It looks like you dug it out between the platforms, too,” he commented.
“Yes, for the main supports,” Talut said, pointing to the six enormous mammoth tusks, wedged in at the base with smaller bones—parts of spines and phalanges—with their tips pointing toward the center. They were spaced at regular intervals around the wall on both sides of the two pairs of mammoth tusks, which were used for the arched doorways. The strong, long, curved tusks were the primary structural members of the lodge.
As Talut of the Mammoth Hunters continued describing the construction of the semisubterranean earthlodge, Ayla and Jondalar became even more impressed. It was far more complex than either had imagined. Midway between the center and the tusk wall supports were six wooden posts—tapering trees, stripped of bark and crotched on top. Around the outside of the annex, braced against the bottom of the bank, mammoth skulls stood upright in the ground, supported by shoulder blades, hipbones, spinal bones, and several strategically placed long bones, legs and ribs. The upper part of the wall, consisting mainly of shoulder blades, hipbones, and smaller tusks of mammoth, merged into the roof, which was supported by wooden beams stretched across and between the outer circle of tusks and the inner circle of posts. The mosaic of bones, all deliberately chosen and some trimmed to shape, were wedged in and lashed to the sturdy tusks, creating a curved wall that fit together like interlocking pieces of a puzzle.
Some wood was available from river valleys, but for building purposes mammoth bones were in greater supply. But the mammoths they hunted contributed only a small portion of the bones they used. The great majority of their building materials were selected from the prodigious pile of bones at the bend in the river. Some bones even came from scavenger-stripped carcasses found on the nearby steppes, but the open grasslands were more important for providing materials of another variety.
Each year the migratory herds of reindeer dropped their antlers to make way for the next year’s rack, and each year they were gathered up. To complete the dwelling, the antlers of the reindeer were bound to one another to make a strong framework of interlaced supports for a domed roof, leaving a hole in the center for smoke to escape. Then, willow boughs from the river valley were tied together into a thick mat, which was laid across and bound securely over and around the antlers, and tapered down the bone wall, to create a sturdy base over the roof and the wall. Next, an even thicker thatch of grass, overlapped to shed water, was fastened to the willows all the way to the ground. On top of the grass thatch was a layer of dense sod. Part of the sod came from the ground that had been excavated for the addition, and part from land nearby.
The walls of the entire structure were two to three feet thick, but one final layer of material remained to complete the annex.
They were standing outside admiring the new structure when Talut finished his detailed explanation of earthlodge construction. “I was hoping the weather would clear,” he said, making an expansive gesture toward the clear blue sky. “We need to finish it. Without finishing, I’m not sure how long this will last.”
“How long will a lodge last?” Jondalar asked.
“As long as I live, sometimes more. But earthlodges are winter homes. We usually leave in summer, for the Summer Meeting and the big mammoth hunt, and other trips. Summer is for traveling, to gather plants, to hunt or fish, to trade or visit. We leave most of our things here when we go, because we come back every year. The Lion Camp is our home.
“If you expect this part to be home to Ayla’s horses for very long, then we better finish it while we have the chance,” Nezzie interjected. She and Deegie set down the large, heavy skin of water they had hauled up from the partially frozen river.
Ranec arrived then, carrying digging tools and dragging a large basket full of compact wet soil. “I’ve never heard of anyone making a lodge, or even part of one, this late in the season,” he said.
Barzec was right behind him. “It will be an interesting test,” he said, setting down a second basket of slick mud, which they had dug from a particular place along the riverbank. Danug and Druwez appeared then, each carrying additional baskets of the wet mud.
“Tronie has a fire started,” Tulie said, picking up the heavy-skin of water brought up by Nezzie and Deegie, by herself. “Tornec and some others are piling up snow to melt, once we get this water heating.”
“I like to help,” Ayla said, wondering how much help she would be. Everyone seemed to know exactly what to do, but she didn’t have any idea what was going on, much less what she could do to help.
“Yes, can we help?” Jondalar added.
“Of course, it’s for the horse,” Deegie commented, “but let me get you something old of mine to wear, Ayla. It’s a messy job. Does Talut or Danug have something for Jondalar?”
“I’ll find something for him,” Nezzie said.
“If you are still so eager after we are through, you can come and help put up the new lodge Tarneg and I will be making to start our Camp … after I join with Branag,” Deegie added, smiling.
“Has anyone started fires in the sweatbaths?” Talut asked. “Everyone will want to clean up after this, especially if we’re going to have a celebration tonight.”
“Wymez and Frebec started them early this morning. They are getting more water now,” Nezzie said. “Crozie and Manuv have gone off with Latie and the young ones to get fresh pine boughs to make the baths smell nice. Fralie wanted to go, too, but I didn’t like the idea of her climbing up and down hills, so I asked her if she would watch Rydag. She’s watching Hartal, too. Mamut is busy doing something for the ceremony tonight, too. I have a feeling he’s planning some kind of a surprise.”
“Oh … Mamut asked me, when I was coming out, to tell you that the signs are good for a hunt in a few days, Talut. He wants t
“The signs are good for a hunt,” the big headman said. “Look at this snow! Soft underneath, melting on top. If we get a good freeze, it will have a crust of ice, and animals always get stuck when the snow is in that condition. Yes, I think it would be a good idea.”
Everyone had been walking toward the fireplace, where a large hide, filled with the icy water from the river, had been propped over a frame directly over the flames. The river water was only to start the process of melting the snow that was dumped in. As it melted, baskets of water were dipped out and poured into another large, stained, and dirty hide that lined a depression in the ground. The special soil, taken from a bank near the river, was added and mixed with the water to form a thick slurry of gummy, slick clay.
Several people climbed on top of the new sod-covered annex with waterproof baskets of the fine, smooth, runny mud, and, with scoops, began pouring it down the sides. Ayla and Jondalar watched, and soon joined them. Others at the bottom spread it around to make sure that the entire surface had a thick coat.
The tough, sticky clay, washed and sorted into fine particles by the river, would absorb no water. It was impervious to water. Rain, sleet, melting snow, nothing could penetrate. Even when wet, it was waterproof. As it dried, and with long use, the surface became quite hard, and was often used as a handy place to store objects and implements. When the weather was pleasant, it was a place to lounge, to visit, to expound in loud discussion, or to sit quietly and meditate. Children climbed up when visitors came, to watch without being in the way, and everyone used the perch when an audience was needed or there was something to see.
More clay was mixed and Ayla carried a heavy basket up, slopping it over the edge, and spilling it on herself. It didn’t matter. She was already covered with mud, just as everyone else was. Deegie was right. It was a messy job. As they finished the sides, they moved away from the edge and began coating the top, but as the surface of the dome became covered with wet slippery mud, footing became treacherous.
Ayla poured out the last of the mud from her basket, and watched it oozing slowly down. She turned to go, not watching carefully where she was stepping. Before she knew it, her feet slipped out from under her. She fell with a plop into the fresh, soft clay she had just poured, and went slipping and sliding over the rounded edge of the roof and down the side of the horse annex, letting out an involuntary scream.
The next instant she found herself caught by strong arms just as she reached the ground, and startled, looked at the mud-spattered, laughing face of Ranec.
“That’s one way to spread it down the side,” he said, steadying her, while she regained her composure. Then, still holding her, he added, “If you want to do it again, I’ll wait here for you.”
She felt warmth where he touched the cool skin of her arm, and she was entirely aware of his body pressing against her. His dark eyes, glistening and deep, were filled with a yearning that stirred an unbidden response from the core of her womanness. She trembled slightly, and felt her face flush before she looked down, and then moved away from his touch.
Ayla glanced at Jondalar, confirming what she expected to see. He was angry. His fists were clenched and his temples throbbed. She looked away quickly. She understood his anger a little more now, realizing it was an expression of his fear—fear of loss, fear of rejection—but she felt a touch of irritation at his reaction, nonetheless. She couldn’t help it that she slipped, and she was grateful that Ranec happened to be there to catch her. She flushed again, recalling her response to his lingering touch. She couldn’t help that either.
“Come on, Ayla,” Deegie said. “Talut says it’s enough and the sweatbaths are hot. Let’s go clean this mud off and get ready for the celebration. It’s for you.”
The two young women walked into the earthlodge through the new annex. As they reached the Mammoth Hearth, Ayla suddenly turned to the other young woman. “Deegie, what is sweatbath?”
“Haven’t you ever taken a sweatbath?”
“No.” Ayla shook her head.
“Oh, you’ll love it! You might as well take those muddy clothes off at the Aurochs Hearth. The women usually use the back sweatbath. The men like this one.” As she spoke, Deegie indicated an archway just beyond Manuy’s bed as they passed through the Reindeer Hearth and into the Crane Hearth.
“Is not for storage?”
“Did you think all the side rooms were for storage? I suppose you wouldn’t know, would you? You feel so much a part of us already, it’s hard to remember that you really haven’t been here that long.” She stopped then, and turned to look at Ayla. “I’m glad you will be one of us, I think you were meant to be.”
Ayla smiled shyly. “I am glad, too, and I am glad you are here, Deegie. Is nice to know woman … young … like me.”
Deegie smiled back. “I know. I just wish you had come sooner. I am going to be leaving after the summer. I almost hate to go. I want to be headwoman of my own Camp, like my mother, but I’m going to miss her, and you, and everyone.”
“How far away you go?”
“I don’t know. We haven’t decided yet,” Deegie said.
“Why go far? Why not build new lodge nearby?” Ayla asked.
“I don’t know. Most people don’t, but I guess I could. I didn’t think of that,” Deegie said, with a look of quizzical surprise. Then, as they reached the last hearth in the earthlodge, she added, “Take off those dirty things and just leave them in a pile there.”
Both Deegie and Ayla peeled off their muddy garments. Ayla could feel the warmth radiating from behind a drape of red leather suspended from a rather low mammoth tusk archway in the farthest back wall of the structure. Deegie ducked down and went in first. Ayla followed, but stopped a moment before entering with the drape held aside, trying to see in.
“Hurry in and close it! You’re letting the heat out!” a voice called from the steamy, dimly lit, somewhat smoky interior.
She quickly scuttled in, letting the drape fall in place behind her, but, rather than cold, she felt the heat assault her. Deegie led her down a rough stairway made of mammoth bones placed up against the dirt wall of a pit that was about three feet deep. Ayla stood at the bottom on a floor that was covered with a soft, deep-piled fur of some kind waiting for her eyes to adjust, then looked around. The space that had been excavated was about six feet wide and ten feet long. It consisted of two circular sections joined together, each with a low domed ceiling—from where she stood, only three or four inches above her head.
Hot bone coals scattered across the floor of the larger section glowed brightly. The two young women walked through the smaller section to join the others, and Ayla saw that the walls were covered with skins, and the floor of the larger space was covered with mammoth bones spaced carefully apart. It gave them a place to walk above the bits of burning coals. Later, when they poured water on the floor to make steam, or to wash, it would drain into the dirt below the bones, which would keep feet above the mud.
More coals were piled up in the fireplace at the center. They furnished both heat and the only source of light, except for a faint outline of daylight around the covered smoke hole. Naked women sat around the fireplace on makeshift benches made of flat bones stretched across other mammoth bone supports. Containers of water were lined up along one wall. Large, sturdy, tightly woven baskets held cold water, while steam issued from the stomachs of large animals supported by-frames of antlers. Someone picked a red-hot stone out of the fireplace with two flat bones and dropped it into one of the water-filled stomachs. A cloud of pine-scented steam rose and enveloped the room.
“Here, you can sit between Tulie and me,” Nezzie said, moving her ample body over one way, making room. Tulie moved the other way. She was a big woman, too, but most of her size was sheer muscular mass, though her full female shape left no doubt about her gender.
“I want to wash some of the mud off first,” Deegie said. “Probably Ayla will, too. Did you se
“No. Did you hurt yourself, Ayla?” Fralie asked, looking concerned, and slightly uncomfortable with her advancing pregnancy.
Deegie laughed before Ayla could answer. “Ranec caught her, and didn’t look at all unhappy about it, either.” There were smiles and nods.
Deegie picked up a mammoth skull basin, dipped both hot and cold water into it, accidentally picking up a twig of pine from the hot water, and from a dark mound of some soft substance, pulled off a handful for Ayla and one for herself.
“What is this?” Ayla asked, feeling the luxuriously soft and silky texture of the material.
“Mammoth wool,” Deegie said. “The undercoat they grow in winter. They shed it in big bunches every spring, right through the long outer hair. It gets caught on bushes and trees. Sometimes you can pick it up off the ground. Dip it in the water and use it to wash off the mud.”
“Hair muddy, too,” Ayla said, “should wash.”
“We’ll wash up good later, after we sweat awhile.”
They rinsed off to billows of steam, then Ayla sat down between Deegie and Nezzie. Deegie leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing contentedly, but Ayla, wondering why they were all sitting together sweating, observed everyone in the room. Latie, sitting on the other side of Tulie, smiled at her. She smiled back.
There was a movement at the entrance. Ayla felt a cool breeze and realized how hot she was. Everyone looked to see who was coming. Rugie and Tusie clambered down, followed by Tronie holding Nuvie.
“I had to nurse Hartal,” Tronie announced. “Tornee wanted to take him for a sweatbath, and I didn’t want him fussing.”
Were men not allowed here, not even male babies? Ayla wondered.
“Are all the men in the sweatbath, Tronie? Maybe I should get Rydag,” Nezzie said.
“Danug took him in. I think the men decided they wanted all the males this time,” Tronie said. “Even the children.”
“Frebec took Tasher and Crisavec,” Tusie mentioned.