“The weak one to the mother, the strong one to me”

Van’s father’s saying, “The weak one to the mother, the strong one to me,” names the Toga Mountain practice of separating one pyuika twin for human rearing while leaving the other with its mother. In the novel, it condenses a way of raising mounts that depends on close observation, selective intervention, and a lasting bond between animal and handler.

Meaning and Origin

Van recalls hearing the phrase from his father as they watched a young doe give birth. Pyuika bear twins, and the fawn chosen for human care is the larger one, which has received more milk; the weaker twin stays with its mother. The remembered scene places the saying within an inherited practice rather than presenting it as an abstract rule: Van learned pyuika husbandry by accompanying the adults and watching the herd.

The words describe a choice between the twins, but the surrounding account makes clear that the choice is not simply a matter of taking the strongest animal without regard for the herd. Van explains that the selected fawn is gradually accustomed to people, beginning with exposure to their scent while its mother is away. Wild pyuika do not become accustomed to people once mature, so the bond has to be formed early and carefully.

From Fawn to Riding Mount

The saying’s logic is borne out when Van teaches young men to assess a pair of fawns. One notices that the second-born walks faster. Van directs attention to their legs: the second fawn’s limbs sit closer together, helping it stand without splaying for balance, while its steady gait indicates that it is getting enough milk to build a sturdy body. He judges that both fawns are developing well, but that the second is likelier to become hardy enough to carry a rider and run without flinching. The decision rests on observed growth and movement, not the saying alone.

Choosing a promising fawn is only the start of the work. Van advises approaching the young animals when their mother is away and letting them gradually grow used to human scent. This attention to early familiarity reflects the wider character of pyuika: they are independent and difficult to confine, yet loyal once bonded. A pyuika raised alongside a person from fawnhood can remember that person and respond to his whistle.

Herd Care and Limits

The practice also sits within decisions about the health of the herd. Both male and female pyuika can be trained to ride, but bucks become impossible to control during mating season, so mounts are gelded. Because taking all the strongest males would weaken future generations, the clan considers the condition of the herd when deciding how many fawns to train. The saying’s selection of a strong young animal therefore belongs to a broader system that balances riding needs with reproduction.

Nor does selection mean turning pyuika into ordinary livestock. Van argues that they resist restraint and cannot be domesticated like reindeer; they do better roaming freely, with human handlers relying on familiarity and bonds rather than enclosure. When spring came, he persuaded the people caring for the animals to let them roam. The saying thus preserves a practical distinction: people may choose and train a mount, but successful raising depends on understanding the animal’s nature rather than simply controlling it.

Memory and Inheritance

For Van, the phrase carries the voice of his father into his teaching. Its recollection is attached to a specific scene of watching a doe calve, and it recurs as Van passes his knowledge on to younger handlers. As he studies the fawns with them, he remembers that his son is dead and wonders whether the boy would have listened to him with the same attention. The inherited words consequently connect husbandry to loss as well as skill: Van’s knowledge is something learned from a parent and now handed onward, while the memory of the child he cannot teach remains beside it.