by Jean M. Auel
Jondalar smiled. “Wolf protects Ayla,” he said. “It doesn’t matter who or what it is, if it threatens her, he’ll attack it.”
“Even you, Jondalar?” he asked.
“Even me.”
There was an uncomfortable silence; then Joharran said, “How many lions did we get?” Several of the big cats were down, some with a number of spears in them.
“I count five,” Ayla said.
“The lions with spears from more than one person should be shared,” Joharran said. “Those hunters can decide what to do with them.”
“The only spears in the male and this female belong to Ayla and me, so we can claim them,” Jondalar said. “We did what was necessary, but they were defending their family and we want to honor their spirits. We don’t have a Zelandoni here, but we can give each a drink of water before we send them on their way to the spirit world, and we can bury their hearts, give them back to the Mother.”
The other hunters nodded in agreement.
Ayla walked to the lioness that she had killed and took out her waterbag. It was made of the carefully washed stomach of a deer, with the lower opening tied off. The upper opening was pulled up around a deer vertebra, with the projections cut away, and sinew wrapped tightly around it. The natural hole in the center of the section of spine made a more than serviceable pour spout. The stopper was a thin leather thong that had been knotted several times in the same place, and stuffed into the hole. She pulled out the knotted leather cord stopper, and took a mouthful. Then she kneeled over the head of the lioness, pulled it around and opened the jaws, and squirted the water from her mouth into the mouth of the big cat.
“We are thankful, Doni, Great Mother of All, and we are grateful to the Spirit of Cave Lion,” she said aloud. Then she began speaking with the silent hand signs of the formal language of the Clan, the one they used when addressing the spirit world, but in a quiet voice, she translated the meaning of the signs she was making. “This woman is grateful to the Spirit of the Great Cave Lion, the totem of this woman, for allowing a few of the Spirit’s living ones to fall to the spears of the people. This woman would express sorrow to the Great Spirit of the Cave Lion for the loss of the living ones. The Great Mother and the Cave Lion Spirit know it was necessary for the safety of the people, but this woman wants to express gratitude.”
She turned around to the group of hunters who were watching her. It wasn’t done in quite the manner they were used to, but it was fascinating to watch her, and felt utterly right to those hunters who had faced their fears to make their territory safer for themselves and for others. It also made them understand why their Zelandoni Who Was First had made this foreign woman her acolyte.
“I will not make a claim to any other lions that may have been pierced by one of my spears, but I would like the spear back,” Ayla said. “This lion has only my spear in it, so I will claim it. I will keep the skin and tail, the claws and the teeth.”
“What about the meat?” Palidar said. “Are you going to eat some?”
“No. The hyenas can have it as far as I’m concerned,” Ayla said. “I don’t like the taste of the meat of meat-eaters, especially cave lions.”
“I’ve never tasted lion,” he said.
“Neither have I,” said Morizan of the Third Cave, who had paired up with Galeya.
“Did none of your spears reach a lion?” Ayla asked. She saw them shake their heads in a sadly negative response. “You’re welcome to this one’s meat, if you want it, after I bury the heart, but I wouldn’t eat the liver if I were you.”
“Why not?” Tivonan asked.
“The people I grew up with believed the liver of meat-eaters could kill you, like a poison,” she said. “They told stories about it, especially of a selfish woman who ate the liver of a cat, a lynx, I think, and died. Perhaps we should bury the liver, too, with the heart.”
“Is the liver of animals who eat any meat bad for you?” Galeya asked.
“I think bears are all right. They eat meat, but they eat everything else, as well. Cave bears don’t eat much meat at all, and they taste good. I knew some people who ate their liver and didn’t get sick,” Ayla said.
“I haven’t seen a cave bear in years,” Solaban said. He’d been standing close by, listening. “There aren’t many around here anymore. Have you really eaten cave bear?”
“Yes,” Ayla said. She considered mentioning that cave bear meat was sacred to the Clan, eaten only for certain ritual feasts, but decided it would just encourage more questions that would take too long to answer.
She looked at the lioness, and took a deep breath. It was big and would be a lot of work to skin. She could use some help, and observed the four young people who had been asking her questions. None of them had used spear-throwers, but she guessed that might change now, and though they hadn’t landed a spear, they had been a willing part of the hunt and exposed themselves to danger. She smiled at them. “I’ll give each of you a claw if you’ll help me skin this lioness,” she said, and watched them smile back.
“I’ll be glad to,” Palidar and Tivonan said almost simultaneously.
“Me too,” said Morizan.
“Good. I can use the help.” Then she said to Morizan, “I don’t think we have been formally introduced.”
She faced the young man and held out both her hands, palm up, in the formal gesture of openness and friendship. “I am Ayla of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, acolyte of Zelandoni, First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother, mated to Jondalar, Master Flint-Knapper and brother of Joharran, leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. Formerly I was Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Chosen by the spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, and friend of the horses, Whinney, Racer, and Gray, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf.”
It was enough of a formal introduction, she thought, watching his expression. She knew the first part of the formal recitation of her names and ties was probably somewhat overwhelming—her associations were among the highest ranked of all the Zelandonii, and the last part would be completely unfamiliar to him.
He reached for her hands and began his names and ties. “I am Morizan of the Third Cave of the Zelandonii,” he started nervously, then seemed to be trying to think what to say next. “I am the son of Manvelar, leader of the Third Cave, cousin of …”
Ayla realized he was young and not accustomed to meeting new people and making formal recitations. She decided to make it easy for him, and ended the formal meeting ritual. “In the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother, I greet you, Morizan of the Third Cave of the Zelandonii,” she said, then added, “and I welcome your help.”
“I want to help, too,” Galeya said. “I’d like to have a claw as a memory of this hunt. Even if I didn’t get a spear into any of them, it was exciting. A little frightening, but exciting.”
Ayla nodded in understanding. “Let’s get started, but I should warn you to be careful when you cut out the claws, or the teeth; don’t let them scratch you. You have to cook them before they can be safely handled. If you get a scratch, it can turn into a foul wound, one that swells up and suppurates with a bad-smelling discharge.”
She looked up and noticed in the distance that some people were coming around the jutting wall. She recognized several from the Third Cave who had not been with the first group that joined them before. Manvelar, the strong and vigorous older man who was their leader, was among them.
“Here come Manvelar and some others,” Thefona said. She had obviously seen and recognized them too.
When they reached the hunters, Manvelar walked up to Joharran. “I greet you, Joharran, leader of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, in the name of Doni, the Great Earth Mother,” he said, holding both hands out.
Taking both hands in his, Joharran returned the short formal greeting to acknowledge the other leader. “In the name of Great Earth Mother, Doni, I greet you, Manvelar, leader of the Third Cave of the Zelandonii.” It was a customary courtes
y between leaders.
“The people you sent back came up and told us what was going on,” Manvelar said. “We’ve seen the lions around here the past few days, so we came to help. They were returning regularly and we were wondering what we should do about them. It looks like you have taken care of the problem. I see four, no, five lions down, including the male. The females will have to find a new male now; maybe they’ll separate and find more than one. It will change the entire structure of the pride. I don’t think they will be back bothering us soon. We need to thank you.”
“We didn’t think we could pass them safely, and didn’t want them threatening Caves in the vicinity, so we decided to chase them away, especially since we had several people with us who could use spear-throwers. It’s a good thing we had them. Even though he was badly wounded, that big male attacked again, after we thought he was down,” Joharran said.
“Hunting cave lions is dangerous. What are you going to do with them?”
“I think the hides, teeth, and claws have all been claimed, and some say they want to taste the meat,” Joharran said.
“It’s strong,” Manvelar said, wrinkling his nose. “We’ll help you with the skinning, but it will take some time. I think you should plan on spending the night with us. We can send a runner ahead and tell the Seventh that you’ve been delayed, and why.”
“Good. We will stay. Thank you, Manvelar,” Joharran said.
The Third Cave served a meal to the visitors from the Ninth before they set out the next morning. Joharran, Proleva, Proleva’s son, Jaradal, and new baby daughter, Sethona, were seated together with Jondalar, Ayla, and her daughter, Jonayla, out on the sunny stone front porch, enjoying the view along with their food.
“It would seem that Morizan is taking quite an interest in Folara’s friend Galeya,” Proleva said. They were watching the group of not-yet-mated young people with the indulgent eye of older siblings with families.
“Yes,” Jondalar said, with a grin. “She was his backup yesterday during the lion hunt. Hunting together and depending on each other like that can create a special bond quickly, even if they didn’t land a spear so they could lay claim to a lion. But they helped Ayla skin out her lioness, and she gave each of them a claw. They were done so fast, they came over and helped me, and I gave each of them a small claw, too, so they all have mementos of the hunt.”
“That’s what they were showing off last night over that cooking basket,” Proleva said.
“Can I have a claw for a memento, Ayla?” Jaradal asked. The youngster had obviously been listening closely.
“Jaradal, those are mementos of a hunt,” his mother said. “When you get old enough to go on hunts, you’ll get your own mementos.”
“That’s all right, Proleva. I’ll give him one,” Joharran said, smiling gently at the son of his mate. “I got a lion, too.”
“You did!” the six-year boy said excitedly, “and I can have a claw? Wait until I show Robenan!”
“Make sure you cook it before you give it to him,” Ayla said.
“That’s what Galeya and the rest were cooking last night,” Jondalar said. “Ayla insisted that everyone cook the claws and fangs before they handled them. She says a scratch from a lion claw can be dangerous unless it’s cooked.”
“Why should cooking make a difference?” Proleva asked.
“When I was little, before I was found by the Clan, I was scratched by a cave lion. That’s how I got the scars on my leg. I don’t recall much about getting scratched, but I do remember how much my leg hurt until it healed. The Clan liked to keep the teeth and claws of animals, too,” Ayla said. “When she was teaching me to be a medicine woman, one of the first things Iza told me was to cook them before they were handled. She said they were full of evil spirits, and the heat of cooking them drove the foulness out.”
“When you think of what those animals do with their claws, they must be full of evil spirits,” Proleva said. “I’ll make sure Jaradal’s claw gets cooked.”
“That lion hunt did prove out your weapon, Jondalar,” Joharran said. “Those who just had spears probably would have been good protection, if the lions had gotten closer, but the only kills were made with spear-throwers. I think it’s going to encourage more people to practice.”
They saw Manvelar approach, and greeted him cordially.
“You can leave your lion skins here and pick them up on your way back,” he said. “We can store them in the back of the lower abri. It’s cool enough down there that they should keep for a few days; then you can process them when you get home.”
The tall limestone cliff they had passed just before the hunt, called Two Rivers Rock because Grass River joined The River there, had three deeply indented ledges, one above the other, that created protective overhangs for the spaces below them. The Third Cave used all of the stone shelters, but they lived mainly in the large middle one, which enjoyed an expansive panorama of both rivers and the area around the cliff. The others were mainly for storage.
“That would be a help,” Joharran said. “We’re carrying enough, especially with babies and children, and we’ve already been delayed. If this trip to Horsehead Rock hadn’t been planned for some time, we probably wouldn’t be making it. After all, we’ll be seeing everyone at the Summer Meeting, and we still have a lot to do before we leave. But the Seventh Cave really wanted Ayla to visit, and Zelandoni wants to show her the Horsehead. And since it’s so close, they want to go to Elder Hearth and visit the Second Cave, and see the ancestors carved in the wall of their lower cave.”
“Where is the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother?” Manvelar asked.
“She’s already there, has been for a few days,” Joharran said. “Conferring with several of the zelandonia. Something to do with the Summer Meeting.”
“Speaking of that, when are you planning to leave?” Manvelar asked. “Perhaps we can travel together.”
“I always like to leave a little early. With such a large Cave, we need extra time to find a comfortable place. And now we have animals to consider. I’ve been to the Twenty-sixth Cave before, but I’m not really familiar with the area.”
“It’s a large, flat field right beside West River,” Manvelar said. “It’s good for a lot of summer shelters, but I don’t think it’s a good place for horses.”
“I like the site we found last year, even if it was rather far from all the activities, but I don’t know what we’ll find this year. I was thinking of scouting it out earlier, but then we got those heavy spring rains and I just didn’t want to slog through the mud,” Joharran said.
“If you don’t mind being a bit out of the way, there may be a more secluded place nearer Sun View, the shelter of the Twenty-sixth Cave. It’s in a cliff near the bank of the old riverbed, somewhat back from the river now.”
“We may try that,” Joharran said. “I’ll send a runner after we decide when to leave. If the Third Cave wants to go then, we can travel together. You have kin there, don’t you? Do you have a route in mind? I know that West River runs in the same general direction as The River, so it isn’t hard to find. All we have to do is go south to Big River, then west until we reach West River, and then follow it north, but if you know a more direct way, it might be a little faster.”
“In fact, I do,” Manvelar said. “You know my mate came from the Twenty-sixth Cave, and we visited her family often when the children were younger. I haven’t been back since she died and I’m looking forward to this Summer Meeting and seeing some people I haven’t seen for a while. Morizan and his brother and sister have cousins there.”
“We can talk more when we return for the lion skins. Thank you for the hospitality of the Third Cave, Manvelar,” Joharran said, as he turned to leave. “We need to be going. The Second Cave is expecting us, and Zelandoni Who Is First has a cave with a surprise to show Ayla.”
Spring’s first shoots had made a watercolor smear of emerald on the cold, brown defrosting earth. As the short season advanced an
d jointed stems and slender sheathing leaves reached their full growth, lush meadows replaced the cold colors along the floodplains of the rivers. Billowing in the warmer winds of early summer, the green of rapid growth fading to the gold of ripening maturity, the fields of grass ahead named the river beside them.
The group of travelers, some from the Ninth Cave and some from the Third, walked beside Grass River, retracing their steps from the previous day. They walked around the jutting stone in single file along the trail between the clear running water of Grass River and the cliff. As they continued, some people moved forward to walk two or three abreast.
They took the path that angled toward the crossing place—it was already being called the Place of the Lion Hunt. The way the rocks had been placed naturally was not an easy crossing. It was one thing for agile young men to leap from stone to slippery stone; it was quite another for a woman who was pregnant or carrying a baby, and perhaps other packs of food, clothing, or implements, or for older women or men. Therefore, more rocks had been carefully positioned between those the lower water level had uncovered to make the spaces between the stepping-stones closer. After they all had reached the other side of the tributary, where the trail was wide enough, they tended to walk two or three abreast again.
Morizan waited for Jondalar and Ayla, who were bringing up the rear in front of the horses, and stepped in beside them. After a casual exchange of greetings, Morizan commented, “I didn’t realize how good your spear-throwing weapon could be, Jondalar. I’ve been practicing with it, but watching you and Ayla use it has given me a new appreciation for it.”
“I think it’s wise of you to make yourself familiar with the spear-thrower, Morizan. It is a very effective weapon. Is it something Manvelar suggested, or did you decide to do it on your own?” Jondalar asked.
“I decided, but once I started, he encouraged me. He said I was setting a good example,” Morizan said. “To be honest, I didn’t care about that. It just looked like a weapon I wanted to learn.”