The water was slow moving, but so transparent that they could see fish swimming among the water plants. After making their way through the tall reeds, they gained the long, narrow island. Wolf was the first to reach the tongue of land. He shook himself vigorously, then ran up the sloping shore of hard-packed wet sand mixed with clay, which led to a bordering woods of beautiful silver-green sallows grown to the size of trees.

"I knew it," Ayla said.

"What did you know?" Jondalar said, smiling at her satisfied expression.

"These trees are just like those bushes we slept in that night it rained so hard. I thought they were sallows, but I've never seen any the size of trees before. Sallows are usually bushes, but these could be willows."

They dismounted and led the horses into the cool airy woods. Walking in silence, they noticed the shadows of the leaves, swaying in the light breeze, dappling the rich, grassy, sunlit ground cover, and through the light open woodland they saw aurochs grazing in the distance. They were downwind, and, when the wild cattle caught their scent, the animals moved away rapidly. They've been hunted by people, Jondalar thought.

The horses clipped off mouthfuls of the green fodder with their front teeth as well, while they moved through the delightful wooded land, prompting Ayla to stop and begin untying Whinney's harness.

"Why are you stopping here?" Jondalar asked.

"The horses want to graze. I thought we might stop for a while."

Jondalar looked worried. "I think we should go a little farther. I'm sure there are people on this island, and I'd like to know who they are before we stop."

Ayla smiled. "That's right! You did say this was where the smoke was coming from. It's so beautiful here – I almost forgot."

The terrain had been gradually rising in elevation, and farther inland alders, poplars, and white willows began to appear in the sallow woods, lending variation to the light grayish-green foliage. Later a few firs and an ancient variety of pines, that had existed in that region as long as the mountains themselves, added a background of deeper green to the mosaic, with larch contributing a lighter shade, all highlighted by the greenish-gold tufts of ripening steppe grasses waving in the wind. Ivy climbed up tree trunks while liana hung down from branches of the denser forest canopy, and in the sunlit glens prostrate shrubs of pubescent oak and taller hazel brush played their tone against the living landscape.

The island rose no more than twenty-five feet above the water, then leveled out into a long field that was a steppeland in miniature with fescues and feather grasses turning gold in the sun. They crossed the narrow width of the island and looked down a far more precipitous slope of sand dunes, anchored with beach grass, sea holly, and sea kale. The sandy slopes led to a deeply curved inlet, almost a lagoon, outlined with tall, purple-topped reeds, mixed in with cattails and bulrushes, and many varieties of smaller aquatic plants. On the inlet, the water-lily pads were so thick that the water was hardly visible, and perched on them were uncountable numbers of herons.

Beyond the island was a wide, muddy-brown channel, the northernmost arm of the great river. Close to the end of the island they watched a stream of clear water enter the main channel, and Ayla was amazed to see the two currents, one transparent, one brown with silt, running next to each other, with a distinct division of color. Eventually, though, the brown water dominated as the main channel muddied the clear stream.

"Look at that, Jondalar," Ayla said, pointing to the sharp definition of the parallel running waters.

"That's how you know when you're on the Great Mother River. That arm that will take you directly to the sea," he said. "But look over there."

Beyond a grove of trees, off to the side of the inlet, a thin stream of smoke reached for the sky. Ayla smiled with anticipation, but Jondalar had reservations as they headed for the smoke. If that was smoke from a fireplace, why hadn't they seen anyone? The people must have seen them by now. Why hadn't they come to greet them? Jondalar shortened the rope he was using to lead Racer and patted his neck reassuringly.

When they saw the outline of a conical tent, Ayla knew they had arrived at a Camp, and she wondered what people these were. They could even be Mamutoi, she thought, as she signaled Whinney to follow close. Then she noticed Wolf standing in his defensive posture, and she whistled the signal she had taught him. He retreated to her side as they entered the small encampment.

Whinney followed closely behind Ayla as the woman walked into the Camp, to the fireplace that was still sending up a wavering wisp of smoke. There were five shelters arranged in a semicircle, and the firepit, dug slightly into the ground, was in front of the central one. The fire was burning briskly, the Camp had obviously been used recently, but no one announced any claim to the place by coming out to greet them. Ayla looked around, glancing inside the dwellings that were open, but she saw no one. Puzzled, she studied the shelters and the Camp more closely to see if she could learn any more about who the people were, and why they were gone.

The main part of each of the structures was similar to the conical tent used by the Mamutoi for their summer Camps, but there were noticeable differences. Where the Mammoth Hunters often enlarged their living space by attaching semicircular side tents made of hides to the main dwelling unit, often using another pole to help support the side additions, the shelters of this Camp had, instead, additions made of reeds and marsh grasses. Some were simply sloping roofs mounted on slender poles, others were completely enclosed, rounded additions made of thatch and woven mats, attached to the main dwelling.

Just outside the entrance flap of the nearest one, Ayla saw a pile of brown cattail roots on a mat of woven reeds. Beside the mat were two baskets. One was tightly woven and held slightly muddy water, the other was half-full of shiny white, freshly peeled roots. Ayla walked over and took a root out of the basket. It was still wet; it must have been placed there only a moment before.

As she put it back, she noticed a strange object lying on the ground. It was made of cattail leaves woven to resemble a person, with two arms sticking out the sides and two legs, and a piece of soft leather wrapped around it like a tunic. Two short lines for eyes had been drawn on the face with charcoal, and another line shaped into a smile. Tufts of feather grass had been fastened to the head as hair.

The people Ayla had grown up with did not make images, except for simple totem signs, such as the marks on her leg. She had been deeply scratched by a cave lion as a small girl, leaving her left thigh scarred with four straight lines. A similar mark was used by the Clan to indicate a cave lion totem. That was why Creb had been so sure that the Cave Lion was her totem, in spite of the fact that it was considered a male totem. The Spirit of the Cave Lion had chosen her and marked her himself, and would therefore protect her.

Other Clan totems were indicated in similar ways, with simple signs often derived from the movements or gestures of their sign language. But the first truly representative image she had ever seen was the rough sketch of an animal Jondalar had drawn on a piece of leather used for a target, and she was puzzled at first by the object on the ground. Then, with a flash of recognition, she knew what it was. She had never had a doll when she was growing up, but she recalled similar objects that Mamutoi children played with and realized it was a child's plaything.

It was suddenly obvious to Ayla that a woman had been sitting there with her child only moments before. Now she was gone and she must have left in a great hurry, since she had abandoned her food and had not even taken her child's toy with her. Why would she leave in such a hurry?