"I guess I could look at it," the boy said.

Her backpack was on the ground nearby. She got her spear-thrower and a couple of spears and walked back.

"This is how it works," she said, taking a spear and laying it on top of the strange-looking implement. She made sure the hole carved into the butt end of the spear was up against the small hook at the back of the narrow board with the groove down the middle, then put her fingers through the loops attached to the front end. She sighted down the field, then launched the spear.

"That spear went a long way!" Lanidar said. "I don't think I've ever seen a man throw a spear that far."

"Probably not. That's what makes the spear-thrower such a good hunting weapon. I think you could throw a spear with this. Come here, I'll show you how to hold it."

Ayla could see that her spear-thrower was not made for someone of Lanidar's size, but it was good enough to demonstrate the principle of leverage behind it. It was his right arm that was deformed, which had forced him to develop his left arm. Whether he would naturally have been left-handed if his right arm had developed properly didn't matter. He was left-handed now, and he was strong on that side. She didn't worry about aiming for the moment, but she showed him how to pull back and cast the spear. Then she set it up and let him do it. The spear flew high and wide, but quite far, and the grin on Lanidar's face was ecstatic.

"I threw that spear. Look how far it went!" he nearly shouted. "Can you actually hit something with it?"

"If you practice," she said, smiling. She looked around the field, but didn't see anything. She turned to Wolf, who'd been lying on his belly with his head up, watching the whole thing. "Wolf, go find something for me," she said, although the hand signal she gave him said more.

He jumped up and raced into the meadow of full-grown grass turning from green to gold. Ayla followed behind slowly, and the boy walked behind her. Before long she saw movement of the grass ahead, then caught sight of a gray hare darting away from the wolf. She had the spear poised, watching carefully, and when she saw the direction it would likely bound the next time, she cast the small spear. It landed true, and when she reached it, the wolf was standing over it, looking up at her.

"I want that one, Wolf. You go catch one of your own now," she said to the carnivore, again signaling him at the same time. But the boy didn't really see the signals and was completely amazed at the way the huge wolf minded the woman. She picked up the hare and started back toward the horses.

"You should go and see the man demonstrate the spear-thrower he made. I think you might find it interesting, Lanidar, and just because you don't know how to throw a spear won't make any difference. No one else knows how to use a spear-thrower, either. Everybody will be learning from the beginning. If you want to wait a while, I'll walk over there with you," Ayla said.

Lanidar watched her brushing down the young stallion. "I've never seen a brown horse like that. Most horses look like the mare."

"I know," Ayla said, "but far to the east, beyond the end of the Great Mother River that starts on the other side of the glacier, some horses are brown like that. That's where these horses come from."

After a while the wolf returned. He found a spot, circled around it a few times, then lowered himself to his belly, panting and watching.

"Why do these animals stay around you, let you touch them, and do what you say?" Lanidar asked. "I've never seen animals do that."

"They are my friends. I was hunting and the mare's dam fell into my pit trap. I didn't know she was nursing until I saw the foal. A pack of hyenas saw the foal, too. I don't know why I chased them away. The foal couldn't have lived alone, but since I saved her, I raised her. I guess she grew up thinking I was her mother. Later we became friends, and learned to understand each other. She does things I ask her to do, because she wants to. I named herWhinney, " Ayla said, but the way she said the name was the perfect copy of a horse's whinny. In the field, the dun-yellow mare raised her head and looked in their direction.

"That was you! How did you do that?" Lanidar said.

"I paid attention and practiced. That is her real name. To most people I usually say 'Whinney' because they understand it better, but that's not how I said it when I named her. This stallion is her son. I was there when he was born. So was Jondalar. He named this horse Racer, but that was later," Ayla explained.

"Racer can mean someone who likes to go fast, or someone who likes to be ahead of everyone else," the boy said.

"That's what Jondalar said. He named him that because Racer loves to run, and likes to get ahead, except when I put him on a rope. Then he will follow behind his dam," Ayla said, and went back to grooming the horse. She was nearly through.

"What about the wolf?" Lanidar asked.

"Almost the same thing. I raised Wolf from a baby. I killed his mother because she was stealing ermine from some traps I set. I didn't know she was nursing. It was in winter with snow on the ground, and she had whelped out of season. I followed her tracks back to her den. She was a lone wolf, with no other wolves to help her, and all but one of her cubs had died. I pulled Wolf out of the den when his eyes were barely open. He grew up with Mamutoi children, and thinks of people as his pack," she said.

"What is that name you call him?" Lanidar said.

"Wolf. It's the word for a wolf in Mamutoi," Ayla said. "Would you like to meet him?"

"What do you mean, 'meet him'? How can you meet a wolf?"

"Come here and I'll show you," she said. He approached with caution. "Give me your hand, and we'll let Wolf smell it, and get used to your scent, then you can rub his fur."

Lanidar was a little hesitant about putting his good hand so close to the mouth of the wolf, but he extended it slowly. Ayla brought it to Wolf's nose. He sniffed it, then licked it.

"That tickles!" the boy said with a nervous titter.

"You can touch his head, and he likes to be scratched," Ayla said, showing Lanidar how. The boy broke into a delighted grin when he touched the animal, but looked up when the young stallion nickered. "I think Racer would like a little attention, too. Would you like to pet him?"

"Can I?" Lanidar asked.

"Come here, Racer," she said, signaling him to come as well as saying it. The dark brown stallion with black mane, tail, and lower legs nickered again, took a few steps toward the woman and the boy, and lowered his head toward the youngster, making the boy move back a ways from the large animal. He may not have been a carnivore with a mouth full of sharp teeth, but that didn't mean he was without defenses. Ayla reached into the backpack at her feet.

"Move slowly, let him smell you, too. That's how animals get to know you, then you can pat his nose, or the side of his face," Ayla said.

The boy did as she said. "His nose is so soft!" Lanidar said. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, Whinney was there, pushing Racer aside. The boy was startled. Ayla had seen Whinney approaching from the field, wanting to find out what was going on.

"Whinney likes attention, too," Ayla said. "Horses are very curious, and like to be noticed. Would you like to feed them?" He nodded. Ayla opened her hand and showed him two pieces of a white root that she knew the horses liked, fresh young wild carrot. "Is your right hand strong enough to hold something?"

"Yes," he said.

"Then you can feed them both at the same time," she said, putting a piece of root in each of his hands. "Hold one out to each horse, letting it rest on your open hand, so they can take it," she said. "They get jealous if you feed one and not the other, and Whinney will push Racer out of the way. She's his mother, she can tell him what to do."