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"Oh, Jondalar! Over there, by the river, is that smoke? Are people living near that river?" Ayla said, excited at the prospect.
"There could be," Jondalar said.
"Let's hurry then." She started back down the hill with Jondalar riding beside her. "Who do you think it might be?" she asked. "Someone you know?"
"Maybe. The Sharamudoi sometimes come this far in their boats to trade. That's how Markeno met Tholie. She was with a Mamutoi Camp that had come for salt and shells." He stopped and glanced around, looking more closely at the delta and the island just across a narrow cha
Jondalar closed his eyes, but Ayla saw the pain. "They were the last people my brother ever saw… except for me. We traveled together for a while longer. I kept hoping he would get over her, but he didn't want to live without Jetamio. He wanted the Mother to take him," Jondalar said. Then, looking down, he added, "And then we met Baby."
Jondalar looked up at Ayla, and she saw his expression change. The pain was still there, and she recognized that special look that showed when his love for her was almost more than he could bear; more than she could bear. But there was something else, too, something that frightened her.
"I could never understand why Thonolan wanted to die… then." He turned away and, urging Racer to a faster pace, called back, "Come on. You said you wanted to hurry."
Ayla signaled Whi
"Is this it? Have we reached the Great Mother River?" Ayla said, her eyes sparkling.
"Yes. This is it," Jondalar said, then looked toward the west, upstream. He did not want to dampen Ayla's excitement at reaching the river, but he knew how far they had yet to go.
They would have to retrace his steps all the way back across the breadth of the continent to the plateau glacier that covered the highland at the headwaters of the extensive river, and then beyond, almost to the Great Water at the edge of the earth, far to the west. Along its winding, eighteen-hundred-mile course, Donau – the river of Doni, the Great Earth Mother of the Zelandonii – swelled with the waters of more than three hundred tributaries, the drainage of two glaciered mountain chains, and acquired a burden of sediment.
Often splitting into many cha
The broad delta they had reached, twice as long as it was wide, began many miles from the sea. The river, too full to be held within a single cha
"Where was that smoke coming from?" Ayla asked. "There must be a Camp nearby."
"I think it might have been from that big island we saw downstream there, across the cha
When Ayla looked, all she saw at first was a wall of tall phragmite reeds, their feathery purple tops bending in the light wind, more than twelve feet above the waterlogged ground from which they grew. Then she noticed the beautiful silvery-green leaves of sallow extending up beyond them. It took a moment before she made another observation that puzzled her. Sallow was usually a shrub that grew so close to water that its roots were often flooded in wet seasons. It resembled certain willows, but sallows never grew to the height of trees. Could she be mistaken? Could those be willow trees? She seldom made a mistake like that.
They started downstream, and when they were opposite the island they headed into the cha
Ayla was the one who thought about fastening it to the poles, even though it meant Whi
There was a tendency for the current to drag at the boat and poles, which worried Ayla, especially after the way Whi
But the large open bowl was a container that invited filling. They started using it to carry wood, dry dung, and other materials for burning that they picked up along the way for the evening fire, and sometimes they left their pack baskets in the boat after crossing water. There had been several streams of various sizes that had found their way to the inland sea, and Jondalar knew that many tributaries would cut across their path as they continued their Journey, traveling beside the Great Mother River.
As they waded into the clear water of the outside cha