"We put on their halters with lead ropes, and tie the ropes to the boat," Ayla said.

"I don't know… That may not be the best way. Maybe we should think about it some more," he said.

"What is there to think about?" she said, as she was wrapping cord around the three poles. Then she measured out a length and fastened it to the boat. "You were the one who wanted to get started," she added, while she put Whinney's halter on, attached a lead rope to it, then fastened it to the boat on the opposite side of the poles. Holding the slack, she stood beside the boat, then turned to Jondalar. "I'm ready to go."

He hesitated, then nodded decisively. "All right," he said, getting Racer's halter from his pack basket and calling the horse to him. The young stallion lifted his head and neighed when the man first tried to slip the halter over his head, but after Jondalar talked to him and stroked his face and neck, Racer calmed down and allowed it. He tied the rope to the boat, then faced Ayla. "Let's go," he said.

Ayla signaled to Wolf to get into the boat. Then, with both of them still holding the lead ropes, to maintain control of the animals, they pushed the boat into the water and scrambled to get in.

From the beginning, there was trouble. The swift current took hold of the small craft and swept it along, but the horses were not quite ready to enter the wide stream. They reared back as the boat was trying to pull away, jerking the boat so violently that it nearly tipped over, making Wolf stumble to regain his footing and eye the situation nervously. But the load was so heavy that the boat righted itself quickly, though it rode very low in the water. The poles had stretched out in front, trying to follow the strong current.

The pull on the horses by the river trying to propel the boat downstream, and the anxious words of encouragement from Ayla and Jondalar, finally convinced the balky animals to enter the water. First Whinney put in a tentative hoof and found bottom, then Racer, and, with the constant tug, they both finally jumped in. The bank fell off sharply, and they were soon swimming. Ayla and Jondalar had no choice but to let the current carry them along downstream until the entire, unlikely combination of three long poles, followed by a round, heavily laden boat carrying a woman, a man, and a very tense wolf, with two horses behind, stabilized. Then they let go of the lead ropes and each took up a paddle and attempted to change their direction so that they were moving across the current.

Ayla, on the side facing the opposite shore, was not at all familiar with using a paddle. It took several tries, with Jondalar giving advice while he was trying to row away from the shore, before she got the hang of it, and managed to use it in cooperation with him to direct the boat. Even then, it was slow going, with the long poles in front and the horses behind, eyes rolling with fear as they were involuntarily pulled along by the current.

They did begin to make progress in crossing the river, though they were traveling much faster downstream. But ahead, the large swift waterway, surging down the gradual decline of the land on its way to the sea, was making a sharp curve toward the east. A back current, eddying off a projecting sand spit of the near shore, caught the poles that were racing along in front of the boat.

The long shafts of birch, free-floating except for the cords that held them, turned back around and hit the hide-covered boat with a hard bump near Jondalar, making him fear that it had caused a hole. It jarred everyone aboard, and gave a spin to the small round bowl boat, which jerked on the lead ropes of the horses. The horses whinnied in panic, swallowing mouthfuls of water, and tried desperately to swim away, but the relentless current pulling the boat to which they were tied inexorably pulled them along.

But their efforts were not without effect. They caused the little boat to be jerked back and twist around, which yanked on the poles, making them bang into the boat again. The turbulent current, and the jerking and bumping of the overloaded craft, made it bob and bounce and ship water, adding more weight. It was threatening to sink.

The frightened wolf had been cowering with his tail between his legs beside Ayla on the folded tent, while she was frantically trying to steady the boat with a paddle she didn't know how to use, with Jondalar shouting instructions she didn't know how to apply. The whinnying of the panicked horses turned her attention to them and, seeing their fear, she suddenly realized she had to cut them free. Dropping her paddle to the bottom of the boat, she took her knife from the sheath at her waist. Knowing that Racer was more excitable, she worked at his rope first, and with only a little effort the sharp flint blade cut through.

His release caused more bumping and spinning, which was just too much for Wolf. He leaped from the boat into the water. Ayla watched him swimming frantically, quickly cut through Whinney's rope, and jumped in after him.

"Ayla!" Jondalar screamed, but he was jerked around again as the suddenly released and lighter-weight boat started rotating and crashing into the poles. When he looked up, Ayla was trying to tread water, encouraging the wolf who was swimming toward her. Whinney, and beyond her, Racer, were heading for the far shore, and the current was taking him even faster downstream, away from Ayla.

She glanced back and caught one last glimpse of Jondalar and the boat as it rounded the bend of the river and felt a heart-stopping moment of fear that she would never see him again. The thought flashed through her mind that she should not have left the boat, but she had little time to worry about it just then. The wolf was coming to her, struggling against the current. She took a few strokes toward him, but when she reached him, he tried to put his paws on her shoulders and lick her face and in his eagerness he dunked her under the water. She came up sputtering, hugged him with one arm, and looked for the horses.

The mare was swimming for the shore, pulling away from her. She took a deep breath and whistled, loud and long. The horse pricked up her ears and turned toward the sound. Ayla whistled again, and the horse altered direction and tried to swim to her as she reached out toward Whinney with strong strokes. Ayla was a good swimmer. Going generally with the current, though at a diagonal across it, it nevertheless took some effort to reach the wet shaggy animal. When she did, she almost cried with relief. The wolf reached them soon after, but he kept on going.

Ayla rested for a moment, holding on to Whinney's neck, and only then noticed how cold the water was. She saw the rope trailing in the water, attached to the halter Whinney still wore, and it occurred to her how dangerous it could be for the horse if the rope got tangled in some floating debris. The woman spent a few moments trying to unfasten the knot, but it was swollen tight, and her fingers were stiff with cold. She took a deep breath and started swimming again, not wanting to put an added burden on the horse and hoping the exercise would help warm her.

When they finally gained the far shore, Ayla stumbled out of the water, exhausted and shivering, and fell to the ground. The wolf and the horse were little better. They both shook themselves, spraying water everywhere, then Wolf dropped down, breathing hard. Whinney's shaggy coat was heavy even in summer, though it would be much thicker in winter when the dense underfur grew in. She stood with her feet spraddled and her body quivering, her head hanging down and her ears drooping.

But the summer sun was high, and the day had warmed, and once she had rested, Ayla stopped shivering. She stood up, looking for Racer, sure that if they had made it across, the stallion would have, too. She whistled, her call for Whinney first, since Racer usually came along whenever she whistled for his dam. Then she made Jondalar's call whistle for him, and she suddenly felt a stab of worry about the man. Had he made it across the river in that flimsy little boat? And if he had, where was he? She whistled again, hoping the man would hear and respond, but she wasn't unhappy when the dark brown stallion came galloping into view, still wearing the halter, with a short length of lead rope hanging from it.