Jean Auel: The Valley Of Horses

"What do you think?" Thonolan asked, gesturing toward the stream. "It's about where Dalanar said she would be."

"If that's Donau, we should know soon enough. We'll know we are following the Great Mother River when we reach three small rivers that come together and flow east; that's what he said. I'd guess almost any of these runoffs should lead us to her eventually."

"Well, let's keep to the left now. Later she won't be so easy to cross."

"That's true, but the Losadunai live on the right, and we can stop at one of their Caves. The left side is supposed to be flathead country."

"Jondalar, let's not stop at the Losadunai," Thonolan said with an earnest smile. "You know they'll want us to stay, and we stayed too long already with the Lanzadonii. If we'd left much later, we wouldn't have been able to cross the glacier at all. We would have had to go around, and north of it is really flathead country. I want to get moving, and there won't be many flatheads this far south. And so what if there are? You're not afraid of a few flatheads, are you? You know what they say, killing a flathead is like killing a bear."

"I don't know," the tall man said, his worry lines puckered. "I'm not sure I'd want to tangle with a bear. I've heard flatheads are clever. Some people say they are almost human."

"Clever, maybe, but they can't talk. They're just animals."

"It's not the flatheads I'm worried about, Thonolan. The Losadunai know this country. They can get us started right. We don't have to stay long, just long enough to get our bearings. They can give us some landmarks, some idea of what to expect. And we can talk to them. Dalanar said some of them speak Zelandonii. I'll tell you what, if you agree to stop now, I'll agree to pass the next Caves by until the way back."

"All right. If you really want to."

The two men looked for a place to cross the ice-banked stream, already too wide to jump. They saw a tree that had fallen across, making a natural bridge, and headed for it. Jondalar led the way, and, reaching for a handhold, he put a foot on one of the exposed roots. Thonolan glanced around, waiting his turn.

"Jondalar! Look out!" he cried suddenly.

A stone whizzed past the tall man's head. As he dropped to the ground at the warning cry, his hand reached for a spear. Thonolan already had one in his hand and was crouching low, looking in the direction from which the stone had come. He saw movement behind the tangled branches of a leafless bush and let fly. He was reaching for another spear when six figures stepped out from the nearby brush. They were surrounded.

"Flatheads!" Thonolan cried, pulling back and taking aim.

"Wait, Thonolan!" Jondalar shouted. "They've got us outnumbered."

"The big one looks like the leader of the pack. If I get him, the rest may run." He pulled back his arm again.

"No! They may rush us before we can reach for a second spear. Right now I think we're holding them off – they're not making a move." Jondalar slowly got to his feet, keeping his weapon ready. "Don't move, Thonolan. Let them make the next move. But keep your eye on the big one. He can see you're aiming for him."

Jondalar studied the big flathead and had the disconcerting feeling that the large brown eyes staring back were studying him. He had never been so close to one before, and he was surprised. These flatheads did not quite fit his preconceived ideas of them. The big one's eyes were shaded by overhanging brow ridges that were accentuated by bushy eyebrows. His nose was large, narrow, rather like a beak, and contributed to making his eyes seem more deep-set. His beard, thick and tending to curl, hid his face. It was on a younger one, whose beard was just beginning, that he saw they had no chins, just protruding jaws. Their hair was brown and bushy, like their beards, and they tended to have more body hair especially around the upper back.

He could tell they had more hair because their fur wraps covered mainly their torsos, leaving shoulders and arms bare despite the nearly freezing temperature. But their scantier covering didn't surprise him nearly as much as the fact that they wore clothing at all. No animals he'd ever seen wore clothes, and none ever carried weapons. Yet each one of these had a long wooden spear – obviously meant to be jabbed, not thrown, though the sharpened points looked wicked enough – and some carried heavy bone clubs, the forelegs of large grazing animals.

Their jaws aren't really like an animal's, Jondalar thought. They just come forward more, and their noses are just large noses. It's their heads. That's the real difference.

Rather than full high foreheads, like his and Thonolan's, their foreheads were low and sloped back above their heavy brow ridges to a large fullness at the rear. It seemed as though the tops of their heads, which he could easily see, had been flattened down and pushed back. When Jondalar stood up to his full six feet six inches, he towered over the biggest one by more than a foot. Even Thonolan's mere six feet made him seem a giant beside the one who was, apparently, their leader, but only in height.

Jondalar and his brother were both well-built men, but they felt scrawny beside the powerfully muscled flatheads. They had large barrel chests and thick, muscular arms and legs, both bowed somewhat in an outward curvature, but they walked as straight and comfortably upright as any man. The more he looked, the more they seemed like men, just not like any men he'd seen before.

For a long tense moment, no one moved. Thonolan crouched with his spear, ready to throw; Jondalar was standing, but with his spear firmly gripped so it could follow his brother's the next instant. The six flatheads surrounding them were as unmoving as stones, but Jondalar had no doubts about how quickly they could spring into action. It was an impasse, a stand-off, and Jondalar's mind raced trying to think of a way out of it.

Suddenly, the big flathead made a grunting sound and waved his arm. Thonolan almost threw his spear, but he caught Jondalar's gesture waving him back just in time. Only the young flathead had moved, and he ran back into the bushes they had just stepped out of. He returned quickly, carrying the spear Thonolan had thrown, and, to his amazement, brought it to him. Then the young one went to the river near the log bridge and fished out a stone. He returned to the big one with it and seemed to bow his head, looking contrite. The next instant, all six melted back into the brush without a sound.

Thonolan breathed a sigh of relief when he realized they were gone. "I didn't think we were going to get out of that one! But I was sure going to take one of them down with me. I wonder what that was all about?"

"I'm not sure," Jondalar replied, "but it could be that young one started something the big one didn't want to finish, and I don't think it was because he was afraid. It took nerve to stand there and face your spear, and then make the move he did."

"Maybe he just didn't know any better."

"He knew. He saw you throw that first spear. Why else would he tell that youngster to go get it and give it back to you?"

"You really think he told him to do it? How? They can't talk."

"I don't know, but somehow that big one told the young one to give you back your spear and get his stone. Like that would make everything even. No one was hurt, so I guess it did. You know, I'm not so sure flatheads are just animals. That was smart. And I didn't know they wore furs and carried weapons, and walked just like we do."

"Well, I know why they're called flatheads! And they were a mean-looking bunch. I would not want to tangle with one of them hand to hand."

"I know – they look like they could break your arm like a piece of kindling. I always thought they were small."

"Short, maybe, but not small. Definitely not small. Big Brother, I've got to admit, you were right. Let's go visit the Losadunai. They live so close, they must know more about flatheads. Besides, the Great Mother River seems to be a boundary, and I don't think flatheads want us on their side."