"I think it would be easier for them to cross if we are not on their backs," she said. "I think we should swim beside them."

"That's what I thought," Jondalar said.

"But we'll need a rope to hold on," she said.

They got out short lengths of rope, then checked over the harnesses and baskets to make sure their tent, food, and few precious belongings were secure. Ayla unhitched the travois from Whinney, deciding it might be too dangerous for her to try to swim the tumultuous river in full harness, but they did not want to lose the poles and bowl boat, if they could help it.

With that in mind, they bound the long poles together with cordage. While Jondalar fastened one end to the side of the bowl boat, Ayla secured the other end to the harness that was used to hold on Whinney's pack-saddle basket. She used a slip knot that could readily be released if she felt it was necessary. Then, to the flat braided cord that went down around behind the mare's front legs and up across her chest, used to hold Ayla's riding blanket on the mare, the woman attached another rope, much more securely.

Jondalar attached a similar rope to Racer; then he took off his boots, his inner foot-coverings, and his heavy outer clothes and furs. When soaked, they would weigh him down, making swimming all but impossible. He wrapped them together and piled them on top of the pack saddle, but he kept his under tunic and leggings on. Even when wet, the leather would provide some warmth. Ayla did the same.

The animals sensed the urgency and anxiety of the humans and were disturbed by the roiling water. The horses had shied away from the dead deer, and they were prancing around with short steps, tossing their heads and rolling their eyes, but their ears were perked up and alertly forward. Wolf, on the other hand, had gone to the edge of the water to investigate the deer, but he didn't go in.

"How do you think the horses will do, Ayla?" Jondalar asked, as big sloppy raindrops began to fall.

"They're nervous, but I think they'll be all right, especially since we will be with them, but I'm not so sure about Wolf," Ayla said.

"We can't carry him across. He has to make it on his own – you know that," Jondalar said. But seeing her distress, he added, "Wolf's a strong swimmer, he should be all right."

"I hope so," she said, kneeling down to give the wolf a hug.

Jondalar noticed that the raindrops were falling thicker and faster. "We better get started," he said, taking hold of Racer's halter directly, since the lead rope was fastened farther back. He closed his eyes for a moment and wished for good luck. He thought of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, but he couldn't think of anything to promise Her in return for their safety. He made a silent request for help in crossing the Sister anyway. Though he knew he would someday, he did not want to meet the Mother just yet, but even more, he did not want to lose Ayla.

The stallion tossed his head and tried to rear as Jondalar led him toward the river. "Easy now, Racer," the man said. The water was cold as it swirled around his bare feet, and up his covered calves and thighs. Once in the water, Jondalar let go of Racer's halter, giving him his head, and he wrapped the dangling rope around his hand, relying on the sturdy young stallion to find his way across.

Ayla wrapped the rope that was attached at the top of the mare's withers around her hand several times, tucking the end in and around, and she closed her fist tightly to hold it. Then she started in behind the tall man, walking beside Whinney. She pulled on the other rope, the one that was fastened to the poles and boat, making sure it did not get tangled as they entered the river.

The young woman felt the cold water and the tug of the strong current immediately. She looked back toward the land. Wolf was still on the riverbank, advancing and retreating, whining anxiously, hesitant to enter the fast-moving river. She called to him, encouragingly. He paced back and forth, looking at the water and the widening distance between him and the woman. Suddenly, just as the rain began to fall in earnest, he sat down and howled. Ayla whistled to him and, after a few more false starts, he finally plunged in and started paddling toward her. She turned her attention back to the horse and the river ahead.

The rain, coming down harder, seemed to flatten out the choppy waves in the distance, but nearby the wild water was even more cluttered with debris than she had thought. Broken trunks and branches swirled around or bumped into her, some still with leaves, others waterlogged and almost hidden. The bloated animals were worse, often torn open by the violence of the flood that had caught them and swept them down the mountain and into the muddy river.

She saw several birch mice and pine voles. A large ground squirrel was harder to recognize; its pale brown pelt was dark and the thick fluffy tail was plastered down. A collared lemming, long white winter hair, lank but shiny, growing out through fur of summer gray that looked black, showed the bottom of its feet already covered with white fur. It had probably come from high on the mountain near the snow. The large animals showed more damage. A chamois floated past with a horn broken off and the fur gone from half its face, exposing pinkish muscle. When she saw the carcass of a young snow leopard, she looked back again for Wolf, but he was not in sight.

She noticed, however, that the rope dragging behind the mare was hauling along a snag as well as the poles and boat. The broken stump with spreading roots was adding an unnecessary burden and slowing Whinney down. Ayla pulled and tugged on the rope, trying to bring it closer to her, but it suddenly came loose by itself. A small forked branch was still clinging, but it was nothing to worry about. She was concerned about not seeing any sign of Wolf, even though she was so low in the water that she couldn't see much. It upset her, especially since there was nothing she could do about it. She whistled for him once, but she wondered if he would hear it above the noise of the rushing water.

She turned back and took a critical look at Whinney, worried that the heavy snag might have tired her, but she was still swimming strongly. Ayla looked ahead and was relieved to see Racer with Jondalar bobbing along beside him. She kicked and pulled with her free arm, trying not to be a greater burden than she had to be. But as they continued, more and more she just hung on to the rope, beginning to shiver. She began to feel that it was taking an unreasonably long time to cross the river. The opposite shore still seemed so far ahead. The shivering wasn't too bad at first, but with more time in the cold water, it became more intense and wouldn't stop. Her muscles were becoming very tense, and her teeth were chattering.

She looked back for Wolf again, but she still did not see him. I should go back for him, he's so cold, she thought, as she shivered violently. Maybe Whinney can turn around and go back. But when she tried to speak, her jaw was so tense and chattering that she could not get the words out. No, Whinney shouldn't have to go. I'll do it. She tried to unwrap the rope from around her hand, but it was tight and tangled, and her hand was so numb that she could hardly feel it. Maybe Jondalar can go back for him. Where is Jondalar? Is he in the river? Did he go back for Wolf? Oh, there's a log caught up in the rope again. I have to… something… pull something… take rope away… heavy for Whinney.

Her shivering had stopped, but her muscles were so tense that she couldn't move. She closed her eyes to rest. It felt so good to close her eyes… and rest.