Chapter 24

Glade couldn't recall a time when she'd ever felt more despair than when she was finally certain that she'd never be able sail back to her lover across the choppy waters of the billowing sea. Was there any point in even being alive without Demure?

It was only after many hours of weeping and cursing the spirits of her now extinct tribe that she at last returned her attention to the mundane but no less urgent task of staying alive. She was still adrift on a raft that was drifting aimlessly on waves that extended endlessly in all directions and where only the firmament was there to guide her way. There were two things she needed to do. First, she needed to fetch food from the unfamiliar waters. Second, she had to make sure that neither she nor her possessions slipped off the raft into the encircling sea, which she did by tying her ankles by rope to the raft's slatted logs and branches. She similarly secured the deer-hide sack in which she stored her fishing tools and sentimental souvenirs.

The task of finding food became no less difficult as each day passed and was succeeded by another. And then, having survived on the raw carcasses of the small fish she'd caught in her net (the only fishing tool she had of any actual use in these rough waters), that day was followed by yet another.

And there was still no sign of a shore or a beach or anywhere else towards which she should steer the raft.

Glade became ever more feeble and fatigued from having to survive on a small catch of fish and no fresh water. The days stretched ahead with nothing for her to do but scan the horizon for the elusive sign of land. She would dip her net again and again into the sea to catch fish that being raw and salty hardly at all assuaged her hunger and not at all her thirst. She tied herself to the raft at night to avoid being capsized and this made what little sleep she had fitful and uncomfortable.

Glade's woes worsened when the sea turned dark and forbidding under clouds that made day as gloomy as night and night dark and forbidding. Chill drops of water splattered on her naked skin that made her regret that she hadn't grabbed a fur to wear before she and Demure ran for the shore. When night came and the rain fell more steadily, Glade pulled tight the ropes that secured herself and her precious belongings to the security of the raft. She lay on one side away from the wind so that the hair that flowed over her shoulders and her left arm was soaked by water from the sky and her right arm and the rest of her hair was dampened by the sea-water that splashed through the slits between the raft's struts.

She squeezed her rain-drenched eyes together and prayed more than she ever had since she was a child for salvation from the woodland spirits in which she had once so fervently believed. All about her the raft swayed violently from side to side, up and down, back and forth, jerking her about and testing the tightness of her knots. She was so drained by fear, anxiety, hunger and cold that she soon lost all consciousness. Neither the fury of the open sea nor even the violence of the wind, rain and thunder could arouse her.

Glade survived, of course, as Ivory knew. And survived moreover in the Northern lands.

It was through her conversations with her older lover that Ivory possessed in her mind a more complete map of the world than anyone else born in her tribe. Somewhere to the south of the mountains where she and her tribe now lived was a stretch of water of greater extent than any lake. Further south still this body of water encompassed a land that was as warm, even hot, as the North was cold. This was a land in which pagans dwelt who wore no clothes and whose skin was dark as in the North it was pale. This was a land where even elephants and rhinoceroses weren't attired in thick fur.

Ivory understood that there were other still greater mysteries in the world and at the moment she was enchanted by reports of the great bounty in the hills above the Mountain Valley.

"There is so much more grazing land above the cliff edge," said Chief Cave Lion who was flanked on either side by his hunters and accompanied by the blithely uncomprehending stranger in well-stitched furs. "There is an abundance of horse, sheep, deer, aurochs and bison to hunt. There will be plenty of game during the snowy months. We shall shelter in the many caves in the hills, safe and secure against the evils of the winter demons."

It sounded very enticing, especially for hunters frustrated by the scarcity of sizeable game in the Mountain Valley. Large beasts, like mammoth, rhinoceros or even horse, would never venture into a relatively narrow wooded canyon of the kind Ivory and Ptarmigan had made their home. Yet, Ivory was wary. Although Chief Cave Lion was effusive and his huntsmen agreed fervently with his every word and vied with one another to show enthusiasm, she could see that this fervour wasn't shared by Glade. She was also distrustful of Ochre, the well-dressed stranger, whose eyes darted from side to side as he inspected what to him must have seemed a very ragged band of travellers. What did he think of the Mammoth Hunters?

Ivory knelt beside Glade in the shadows of the fire while her other lover, Ptarmigan, sat by her husband behind the flames. The meat that roasted on the flickering light of the fire was nothing more filling than hare, partridge and a very small deer. As she waited for the meat to roast, Ivory carefully scrutinised the returning heroes.

Chief Cave Lion had been in some kind of a fight or quarrel though he didn't allude even in passing whether it had been with an animal or a human. In addition to his broken arm, a freshly acquired scar trailed from his cheek to just over his left eye.

Glade was unusually quiet and the darkness of her skin hid from most eyes just how dusty and dirty she was, but Ivory's vision was more sharply focused. She was covered in bruises: some just slightly blue and others rather more lurid.

There was a clear divide between those hunters who'd been in the original expedition and those who'd only later sought them out. Those in the latter expedition, like Grey Wolf and Cave Bear, were still fresh and alert. When they ascended the hillside, they'd followed a trail which to the eyes of an experienced hunter was no more difficult than following a long thread of rope. After no more than three days, they encountered Chief Cave Lion and his entourage as they were returning home. Grey Wolf excitedly recounted his great joy on discovering that his chief was safe and sound. And there was even greater celebration when he was told the good news about the Great Hunting Grounds the chief had found.

What had not yet been explained was why those in the original party including Chief Cave Lion appeared to have come off so much the worst from a fight. Or indeed why several were absent. The suggestion that the missing warriors had strode ahead of everyone else to survey the new territory was enough to reassure their wives and children.

Ivory could see that the tall stranger, Ochre, hadn't been in a fight or quarrel. He was very trim. Not only were his furs expertly stitched, his beard was short and didn't bush out like the beards of every other man Ivory had seen before. His hair was tied back in neat plaits secured by bands of unnaturally rich red cloth. His shoes were so crafted that they had a distinct sole of thick and durable leather. The tribe to which this man belonged to was evidently in many ways more advanced than the Mammoth Hunters. For the first time in her life, Ivory became aware that there might be tribes whose craft and artistry were of superior quality to that of her tribe.

Glade had encountered many different tribes on her voyages, but even she had never before encountered people as strange as those who found her body washed up on a sandy beach of the Great Sea's northern shore.

She was still securely strapped to the raft and gripping tight the deer-hide sack that had been her only source of comfort as she was tossed to and fro by the unrelenting waves. The raft was easily visible to any hungry predator daring enough to cross the rain-soaked sand. And when Glade felt a nose sniff against the bare skin of her thigh and buttocks, her initial fear was that it belonged to a leopard or even a lion.

What she saw gathered around her through her aching eyes was a company of two men and three women. At first Glade was pleased. And then she became apprehensive. She knew only too well from her earliest exposure to people beyond the forest that it wasn't safe to assume that a strange tribe was friendly. And as she watched these people animatedly sign to each other and articulate in a language that was unusually throaty and nasal, she gradually became aware that these were probably the strangest people she had ever seen.

What initially astonished her was how pale their skin was. She'd seen many shades of skin colour from Demure's jet-black to shades slightly less brown than her own, but she'd never before seen skin that was almost totally free of pigment apart from peculiar flecks of red scattered about the shoulders and the face. These people were as naked as she was, so she could see that this paleness extended from their beetling forehead to the tips of their toes. Fine red hair covered their body. The long hair on their heads was thick and a rich russet red. It grew almost to the waist in thick tangled strands threaded with small bones and shells.

Also strange and unfamiliar was the cragginess of these people's features. Their noses were unusually long. Heavy brows sheltered their eyes from the sun but also rendered their faces dark and mysterious. Their jaws were thick but even under the men's thick red beards there was almost no chin at all. They had strong arms and huge hands. And Glade had never seen people with such powerful barrelled chests that suggested a strength normally possessed only by large apes. The women were shorter and less stocky than the men with no beards and pendulous sagging breasts.

What was also sure was that these were people, whether male or female, that Glade was never likely to find sexually attractive.

She at first wondered whether these people were human. Were they perhaps demons? They had some of the character of an ape with their forbidding brows and receding chins, but a look at their sturdy human feet and the intelligent curiosity of their eyes dispelled such thoughts. They were definitely people.

The five Red Haired People carefully inspected Glade. They were just as bemused by her physical appearance as she was of theirs. They stroked her bare skin and were particularly appreciative of its dark colour which they contrasted with the paleness of their own. They ran their fingers through Glade's relatively fine brown hair and let the strands drop from the tips of their large stubby fingers. And all the while they conversed with one another in their extraordinary language.