It was a good thing that the cooking took place outside, because the lodge would have been much too warm with a large fire. Only small fires burned in the several hearths of the long lodge, their light augmented by fat-burning lamps. Nearly all the people of Saiga Camp combined with the guests from Aurochs Camp seemed to fill every available space. If there was any room between them, the children and wolves took it up twice over.
Labanie came in, ruddy-cheeked from tending to the firepit in the chill autumn wind. She looked about at the milling chaos and threw up her hands. "Out!" she cried. "Out with the wolves, right now. Round 'em up, you little rascals. Telec, Chamar - come on, you know better. Out - now!" With laughter in her eyes, the woman tried to herd her grandchildren and their wolf friends toward the door. Other children added to the confused mess.
Durec rose to help. "Brunez, let it be," he said to the youngest boy of his own hearth. "You get the wolves too excited."
"But you let me handle the pack at home," the boy protested.
"They know your signals. These wolves speak best with those they have known all their lives." He motioned the lad aside, and added with Clan signs, "You know that."
Brunez shrugged, with a half smile. "Yeah. I get too excited too," he murmured.
Durec patted him on the back. The boy was wise for his age -- the Mamutoi version of a great Clan leader's name fit him well. "Round up the girls, it's time to sit down and await the feast."
Brunez dodged between seated and standing bodies to where his sisters huddled with a group of Saiga Camp girls. Durec swung his gaze over the firelit groups in search of Novec. The young man stood in the light of the next hearth in, apparently telling the story of his manhood hunt. Again. Durec sighed. It was one thing to be proud of an accomplishment, but Novec wore it thin. He would do better to listen to what others had to say. His domineering ways were not winning him any solid friendships among the young hunters of other Camps. But next summer, Sarie's brother Harlev and his mate were going to take him in for a while. That might straighten him up a bit, being away from home for a year. Just living at Lion Camp would surely have a good influence.
***
It was dark long before the meat was done, and the night grew biting cold very quickly. Sarie was thankful for the sheltering wall of mammoth tusk and hide that tempered the prevailing wind. It was warmer close to the firepit. She and the two women who had brought out the carrying hides now prepared to lift steaming chunks of well-cooked mammoth meat from over the pit. One at each end of a spit-pole, their hands protected by bag-like leather mitts, they hoisted the dripping roasts and stepped carefully over to lay them on a hide. With a large flint cleaver, Shanarie cut through one side of the meat so that Sarie and Domie could remove the spit. Labanie came back out while they were at it and pitched in. Sarie had to laugh as her mother broke off several times to shoo away the wolves and children that had preceded her out.
When all of the meat was on the hides, they picked them up, two to a hide, holding the skins by the leg-flaps, and carried the meat into the lodge. A cheer arose to greet the main dish. As soon as the children--especially those who had come back in at the tail-end of the parade--settled down, the elderly Mamut of Saiga Camp arose. He struck the packed earth of the lodge floor with an ivory staff. Complete silence ensued.
"People of Saiga Camp, and honored guests," Turbez began, "we are gathered tonight in the name of Mut to celebrate Her gift of plentiful food. More than two hands of years have passed since She led us out of our old homeland to this place where we have found not only greater abundance, but new friends, and even new ways to hunt. For all this we give thanks." He nodded to Durec, who raised his hands and eyes to the unseen heavens beyond the lodge roof.
"Thanks be to Mut, from whom all blessings flow," Durec declaimed. His voice sent the same wonderful thrill through Sarie that it always had.
"Thanks be to Mut," all the people in the lodge echoed.
"Thanks be to Mut, and to the spirits of all Her creatures," Turbez intoned.
Again, everyone repeated, "Thanks be to Mut," with one tot coming in rather late, having had to take his thumb out of his mouth. Several giggles were shushed down.
"Thanks be to Mut, and to Her mighty ones, the mammoths, who feed us this day," Durec said. His hands made the Clan signs for mammoth spirit as he spoke.
"Let us partake of this meat with thankful hearts, that it may strengthen us in spirit as well as in body. Thanks be to Mut," Turbez finished, striking the floor once more with his staff.
Immediately the buzz of conversation resumed. Some of the youngest children were dancing in place with excitement as their mothers and aunts cut the gloriously juicy meat.
Sarie sat next to Durec with her plate of choice slices. "It's odd being a guest at my mother's hearth, but I can't say I mind," she said, and licked her fingers.
He chuckled, then slurped at a drip that almost got away to hide in his beard. "Nor do they," he said, indicating their daughters with a greasy hand. Josie and Lanie smiled back but continued their chattering with a couple of Saiga Camp girls of the same age.
"I wonder if I was such a chatterbox at their age," Sarie said.
"You were," Labanie cackled from the other side of the hearth.
"Oh, Mama, your ears are as sharp as ever!" Sarie laughed with her mother.
After the meat came a round of bouza, and singing. Some of the young folk--and some of the old as well--got up and danced in the limited space. Sarie remained by Durec, leaning against his side. He had one arm around her. She laid her head against his shoulder. He was humming along with the singers, not in tune at all, but she loved to feel the vibrations of his deep voice against her head.
It was interesting to observe the people of Saiga Camp, those she had known all her life and those who had been born in this land of slightly different Mamutoi. The two variant cultures were blending. The old ways had begun to fade somewhat, though some had simply mixed. Many of the older folks stuck stubbornly to their lifelong ways of dress and speech, while the young absorbed more of the ways of the western Mamutoi. They said "Mut" instead of "Mutaa," "Mamut" instead of "Mamauta." Even Turbez--though she noticed that he adopted his manner of speech according to who he spoke to.
But what mattered was that they were well and happy, thriving in their new home.
Sarie sighed contentedly. Durec gave her a little squeeze and bent his head for a tender kiss. "I am thankful that you are happy," he said.