Once inside, he continued his examination of the structure. It was completely bare, lacking even a sleeping pallet. He could not stand up straight, except in the very middle, but he bent over to get close to the side, then walked slowly around the small, dark space, studying it very carefully. He noticed that the hides were old and torn, some in such shreds that they seemed almost rotten, and they had been only roughly sewn together, as though done in a hurry. There were gaps at the seams through which he could see some of the area beyond his cramped quarters. He lowered himself to the ground and sat watching the entrance of the earthlodge, which was open. A few people walked past, but none entered.

After a time, he began to feel an urge to pass his water. With his hands tied, he could not even bare his member to relieve himself. If someone didn't come and untie him soon, he would wet himself. Besides that, his wrists were getting raw where the ropes were rubbing. He was getting angry. This was ridiculous! It had gone far enough!

"Hey, out there!" he shouted. "Why am I being held like this? Like an animal in a trap? I have done nothing to harm anyone. I need my hands free. If someone doesn't untie me soon, I will wet myself." He waited for a while, then shouted again. "Someone out there, come and untie me! What strange kind of people are you?"

He stood up and leaned against the structure. It was well made, but it gave a little. He stepped back and, aiming with his shoulder, ran into the framing, trying to break it down. It gave a little more, and he rammed it again. With a feeling of satisfaction, he heard a piece of wood crack. He stepped back, ready to try again, when he heard people running into the earthlodge.

"It's about time someone came! Let me out of here! Let me out of here now!" he shouted.

He heard the rustlings of someone unlashing the gate. Then the entrance flap was thrown back to reveal several women holding spears aimed at him. Jondalar ignored them and pushed his way out of the opening.

"Untie me!" he said, turning to the side so they could see him raising up the hands that were tied behind his back. "Get these ropes off me!"

The older man who had helped him drink water stepped forward. "Zelandonii! You… far… away," he said, obviously struggling to remember the words.

Jondalar hadn't realized that in his anger, he had been speaking in his native tongue. "You speak Zelandonii?" he said to the man with surprise, but his overwhelming need came first. "Then tell them to get these ropes off me before I make a mess all over myself!"

The man spoke to one of the women. She answered, shaking her head, but he spoke again. Finally she took a knife out of a sheath at her waist, and with a command that made the rest of the women surround him with pointing spears, she stepped forward and motioned him around. He turned his back to her and waited while she hacked at his bindings. They must need a good flint knapper around here, he couldn't help but think. Her knife is dull.

After what seemed forever, he felt the ropes fall away. Immediately he reached to unfasten his closure flap, and, too much in need to be embarrassed, he pulled out his organ and frantically looked for a corner or some out-of-the-way place to go. But the spear-holding women would not let him move. In anger and defiance, he purposely turned to face them and, with a great sigh of relief, let his water come.

He watched them all as the long yellow stream slowly emptied his bladder, steaming as it hit the cold ground and raising up a strong smell. The woman in command seemed appalled, though she tried not to show it. A couple of the women turned their heads or averted their eyes; others stared in fascination, as if they'd never seen a man pass his water before. The older man was trying very hard not to smile, though he couldn't hide his delight.

When Jondalar was through, he tucked himself back in and then faced his tormentors, determined not to let them tie his hands again. He addressed himself to the man. "I am Jondalar of the Zelandonii, and I am on a Journey."

"You Journey far, Zelandonii. Maybe… too far."

"I have traveled much farther. I wintered last year with the Mamutoi. I am returning home now."

"That's what I thought I heard you speaking before," the old man said, shifting into the language in which he was much more fluent. "There are a few here who understand the language of the Mammoth Hunters, but the Mamutoi usually come from the north. You came from the south."

"If you heard me speaking before, why didn't you come? I'm sure there's been some misunderstanding. Why was I tied up?"

The old man shook his head, Jondalar thought with sadness. "You will find out soon enough, Zelandonii."

Suddenly the woman interrupted with a spate of angry words. The old man started to limp away, leaning on a staff.

"Wait! Don't go! Who are you? Who are these people? And who is that woman who told them to take me here?" Jondalar asked.

The old man halted and looked back. "Here, I am called Ardemun. The people are the S'Armunai. And the woman is… Attaroa."

Jondalar missed the emphasis that had been put on the name of the woman. "S'Armunai? Where have I heard that name before… wait… I remember. Laduni, the leader of the Losadunai…"

"Laduni is leader?" Ardemun said.

"Yes. He told me about the Sarmunai when we were traveling east, but my brother didn't want to stop," Jondalar said.

"It's well you didn't, and too bad you are here now."

"Why?"

The woman in command of the spear holders interrupted again with a sharp order.

"Once I was a Losadunai. Unfortunately, I made a Journey," Ardemun said as he limped out of the earthlodge.

After he left, the woman in command said some sharp words to Jondalar. He guessed that she wanted to lead him someplace, but he decided to feign complete ignorance.

"I don't understand you," Jondalar said. "You'll have to call Ardemun back."

She spoke to him again, more angrily, then poked her spear at him. It broke the skin, and a line of blood trickled down his arm. Anger flared in his eyes. He reached over and touched the cut, then looked at his bloody fingers.

"That wasn't necess – " he started to say.

She interrupted with more angry words. The other women circled him with their weapons as the woman walked out of the earthlodge; then they prodded Jondalar to follow. Outside, the cold made him shiver. They went past the palisaded enclosure, and though he couldn't see in, he sensed that he was being watched through the cracks by those inside. The whole idea puzzled him. Animals were sometimes driven into surrounds like that, so they couldn't get away. It was a way of hunting them, but why were people kept there? And how many were in there?

It's not all that large, he thought, there can't be too many in there. He imagined how much work it must have taken to fence in even a small area with wooden stakes. Trees were scarce on the hillside. There was some woody vegetation in the form of brush, but the trees for the fence had to come from the valley below. They had to chop the trees down, trim them of branches, carry them up the hill, dig holes deep enough to hold them upright, make rope and cord, and then tie the trees together with it. Why had these people been willing to put forth so much effort for something that made so little sense?

He was led toward a small creek, largely frozen over, where Attaroa and several women were overseeing some young men who were carrying large, heavy mammoth bones. The men all looked half-starved, and he wondered where they found the strength to work so hard.

Attaroa eyed him up and down once, her only acknowledgment of him, then ignored him. Jondalar waited, still wondering about the behavior of these strange people. After a while he became chilled, and he began moving around, jumping up and down and beating his arms trying to warm himself. He was getting more and more angry at the stupidity of it all, and, finally deciding he wasn't going to stand there any longer, he turned on his heel and started back. In the earthlodge, at least he'd be out of the wind. His sudden movement caught the spear wielders by surprise, and when they put up their phalanx of points, he pushed them aside with his arm and kept on going. He heard shouts, which he ignored.