The Plains of Passage
Jean M. Auel
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Jean M. Auel’s enthralling Earth’s Children® series has become a literary phenomenon, beloved by readers around the world. In a brilliant novel as vividly authentic and entertaining as those that came before, Jean M. Auel returns us to the earliest days of humankind and to the captivating adventures of the courageous woman called Ayla.
With her companion, Jondalar, Ayla sets out on her most dangerous and daring journey--away from the welcoming hearths of The Mammoth Hunters and into the unknown. Their odyssey spans a beautiful but sparsely populated and treacherous continent, the windswept grasslands of Ice Age Europe, casting the pair among strangers.
Some will be intrigued by Ayla and Jondalar, with their many innovative skills, including the taming of wild horses and a wolf; others will avoid them, threatened by what they cannot understand; and some will threaten them. But Ayla, with no memory of her own people, and Jondalar, with a hunger to return to his, are impelled by their own deep drives to continue their trek across the spectacular heart of an unmapped world to find that place they can both call home.
wet in the crossing. It was not like crossing rivers in the warm summertime, when it didn’t matter if they got a little wet. The temperature was dipping down to freezing at night. They were chilled by the icy cold water, and they decided to camp on the far bank to get warm and dry. They continued due west. After passing through the hilly terrain, they reached the lowland again, a marshy grassland, but not like the wetlands downstream. These were on acid soils, and more swampy than marshy, with
be nice to share it with Whinney, too, since we both got pregnant on this Journey.” They rode in silence for a while. “She’s a lot younger than I am, though. I’m old to be having a baby.” “You’re not so old, Ayla. I’m the old man.” “I am nineteen years this spring. That’s old to have a baby.” “I am much older. I am past twenty and three years, by now. That is old for a man to be settling down to his own hearth for the first time. Do you realize I’ve been gone five years? I wonder if anyone
while she was looking downstream set her in motion. Casting one last yearning look at the vacant landscape, childishly hopeful that somehow the lean-to would still be there, she ran into the woods. Urged on by occasional grumbling as the earth settled, the child followed the flowing water, stopping only to drink in her hurry to get far away. Conifers that had succumbed to the quaking earth lay prostrate on the ground and she skirted craters left by the circular tangle of shallow roots—moist
eaten cold except for the hot herbal tea. Then she put cooking stones to heat for boiling water; she made tea often, varying the ingredients for taste or need. The horses wandered back as the last streaks of the departing sun colored the sky. Usually they fed during part of the night, since they traveled so much during the day and needed large quantities of the rough grass of the steppes to sustain them. But the meadow grass had been especially rich and green, and they liked to stay near the
shore, in the shade beside the water, she saw a familiar tall plant with blue-green leaves and looked around for any other plant with fairly large flexible leaves to protect her hands while she picked them. Though she would have to exercise care while they were fresh, the stinging nettle leaves would be delicious when cooked. A water dock, growing at the very edge of the water and standing nearly as tall as the man, had three-foot basal leaves that would work just fine, she decided, and they