None of the other males approached the herd with the big bull nearby, though the chestnut was no less tempting. Besides lending male mammoths irresistible charm, to females, musth also conferred dominance over males, making them very aggressive even toward those who were larger, unless they were also in that excited state. The other bulls shied away, knowing the russet would be easily irritated. Only another musth bull would try to face him, and only if he was close to the same size. Then, if they were both attracted by the same female, and found themselves in the vicinity of each other, they would invariably fight, with severe injury or death a possible result.

Almost as though they knew the consequences, they took great pains to avoid each other and thus avoid fights. The deep-toned calls and the pungent urine trails of the musth male did more than announce his presence to eager females, they also announced his location to other males. Only three or four other bulls were in musth at the same time, during the six- or seven-month period that females might come into estrus, but it was unlikely that any of those who were also in lust would challenge the big russet for the female who was in heat. He was the dominant bull of the population, whether in musth or not, and they knew where he was.

As they continued to watch, Ayla noticed that even when the dark red female and lighter-colored male began to feed, they stayed close together. At one point the female strayed a few feet away, reaching for a particularly succulent trunkful of herbs. One young bull, hardly more than an adolescent, tried to inch toward her, but as she ran back to her consort, the russet bull lunged at him, voicing his rumbling growl. The sharp, pungent scent and distinctive deep roar made their impression on the young male. He quickly ran away, then lowered his head in deference and kept his distance. Finally, as long as she stayed near the musth bull, the chestnut female could rest and feed without being chased.

The woman and man could not quite bring themselves to leave immediately, though they knew it was over, and Jondalar was again beginning to feel the pressure of getting on their way. They felt awed, and honored, to have been included in witnessing the mating of the mammoths. More than merely having been allowed to observe, they felt a part of it, as though they had joined in on a moving and important ceremony. Ayla wished she could run up and touch them, too, to express her appreciation and share their joy.

Before they left, Ayla noticed that many of the plant foods she had seen all along the way were growing nearby, and she decided to gather some, using her digging stick for roots and a special knife, rather thick but strong, to cut stems and leaves. Jondalar got down beside her to help, though he had to ask her to point out exactly what she wanted.

It still surprised her. During the time they lived with the Lion Camp, she had learned the customs and patterns of work of the Mamutoi, which were different from the ways of the Clan. But even there, she often worked with Deegie or Nezzie, or many people worked together, and she had forgotten his willingness to do work that the men of the Clan would have considered the job of women. Yet, since the early days in her valley, Jondalar had never hesitated to do anything that she did, and he was surprised that she didn't expect him to share in the work that needed to be done. With just the two of them, she became aware of that side of him again.

When they finally did leave, they rode in silence for some time. Ayla kept thinking about the mammoths; could not get them out of her mind. She thought, too, about the Mamutoi, who had given her a home and a place to belong when she had no one. They called themselves the Mammoth Hunters, though they hunted many other kinds of animals, and gave the huge woolly beasts a unique place of honor, even while hunting them. Besides providing them with so much of what was necessary for existence – meat, fat, hides, wool for fibers and cordage, ivory for tools and carvings, bones for dwellings and even fuel – mammoth hunts had deep spiritual meaning to them.

She felt even more Mamutoi now, though she was leaving. It was not by chance, she felt, that they had come upon the herd when they did. She was sure there was a reason for it, and wondered if Mut, the Earth Mother, or maybe her totem, was trying to tell her something. She had found herself thinking often, lately, about the Great Cave Lion spirit that was the totem Creb had given her, wondering if he still protected her though she was no longer Clan, and where a Clan totem spirit would fit into her new life with Jondalar.

The tallgrass finally began thinning out, and they moved closer to the river looking for a place to camp. Jondalar glanced toward the sun descending in the west and decided it was too late to try to hunt that evening. He wasn't sorry they had stayed to watch the mammoths, but he had hoped to hunt for meat, not only for their meal that night, but to last for the next few days. He didn't want to have to use the dried traveling food they had with them unless they really needed it. Now they'd have to take the time in the morning.

The valley with its luxuriant bottomland near the river had been changing, and the vegetation altered with it. As the banks of the swift waterway were rising in elevation, the character of the grass changed and, to Jondalar's relief, became shorter. It barely reached the bellies of the horses. He preferred being able to see where they were going. Where the ground began to level out near the top of a slope, the landscape took on a familiar feel. It wasn't that they had ever been in that particular locality before, but that it was similar to the region around the Lion Camp, with high banks and eroded gullies leading to the river.

They climbed a slight rise and Jondalar noticed that the course of the river was veering to the left, toward the east. It was time to leave this watery vein of life-supporting liquid meandering slowly toward the south and angle westward across country. He stopped to consult the map Talut had carved on the slab of ivory for him. When he looked up, he noticed Ayla had dismounted and was standing on the edge of the bank looking across the river. Something about the way she stood made him think she was upset or unhappy.

He shifted his leg over, got down from his mount, and joined her on the bank. Across the river he saw what had drawn her to the edge. Tucked into the slope on a terrace halfway up the opposite side was a large, long mound with tufts of grass growing up the sides. It seemed to be a part of the riverbank itself, but the arched entrance closed by a heavy mammoth-hide drape revealed its actual nature. It was an earth-lodge like the one the Lion Camp called home, where they had lived during the previous winter.

As Ayla stared at the familiar-looking structure, she remembered vividly the inside of the Lion Camp's earthlodge. The roomy semisubterranean dwelling was strong and built to last many years. The floor had been carved out of the fine loess soil of the riverbank and was below ground level. Its walls and rounded roof of sod covered with river clay were firmly supported by a structure of more than a ton of large mammoth bones, with deer antlers entwined and lashed together at the ceiling, and a thick thatch of grass and reeds between the bone and the sod. Benches of earth along the sides were made into warm beds, and storage areas were dug down to the cold permafrost level. The archway was two large curved mammoth tusks, with the butt ends in the ground and the tips facing each other and joined. It was by no means a temporary construction, but a permanent settlement under one roof, large enough to support several large families. She was sure the makers of this earthlodge had every intention of returning, just as the Lion Camp did every winter.