by Jean M. Auel
They traveled south, following The River as it wound along its sinuous course downstream. The distance was not too great, though they had to cross back over The River and climb up the highland and back down again because the curving stream forced the water against the rock walls in one section, but the horses made the trek both easier and faster. By late afternoon, they were in sight of the sheer limestone cliff with the column near the top that appeared to be falling, which housed the large abri of the Ninth Cave. They strained to see if there were any differences that might warn them of damage to their home, or injury to its inhabitants.
They reached Wood Valley and made their way across the small river that fed into The River. People were standing on the northern end of the stone front porch that faced southwest waiting for them as they started up the path. Someone had seen them coming and told the others. When they passed by the jutting corner that held the hearth of the signal fire, Ayla noticed it was still smoldering from recent use and wondered why.
Because the Ninth Cave had so many people, the number who had stayed back from the Summer Meeting, for one reason or another, was nearly as great as those who made up the total of some of the smaller Caves, though it was comparable in proportion to the other groups. The Ninth Cave had the greatest number of people of any of the Caves of the Zelandonii, including the Twenty-ninth and the Fifth, which had several stone shelters. Their abri was extraordinarily large and had plenty of room to comfortably house their large number, and more. In addition, the Ninth Cave had individuals who were very skilled in many ways and had much to offer. As a result they had a very high status among the Zelandonii. People wanted to join them, but they could only take in so many and tended to be selective, choosing those who reinforced their standing, though once someone was born to them or became a member, they were very seldom turned out.
All who had not gone to the Summer Meeting, who were able, came out to watch the travelers arrive, many of them gaping with surprise; they had never seen their Donier sitting on a seat that was pulled by Ayla’s horse. Ayla stopped to let Zelandoni step off the pole-drag, which she did with unruffled dignity. The First saw a middle-aged woman, Stelona, whom she knew to be levelheaded and responsible, she had stayed at the Ninth Cave to care for her ailing mother.
“We were visiting the Fifth Cave and felt a strong earthquake. Did you feel it here, Stelona?” the First said.
“We felt it, and people were frightened, but it didn’t seem too bad. Some rocks fell, but mostly in the gathering area, not here. No one was hurt,” Stelona said, anticipating the Zelandoni’s next question.
“I’m glad to hear that. The Fifth Cave was not so lucky. A boy was severely injured when a large rock fell on his head. I’m afraid there’s little hope for him. He may already be walking the next world,” the Donier said. “Have you heard anything from the other Caves in this area, Stelona? The Third? The Eleventh? The Fourteenth?” the First said.
“Only smoke from their signal fires to let us know they were there and didn’t need any immediate help,” Stelona said.
“That’s good, but I think I’ll go see what damage, if any, they sustained,” the Donier said, then turned to look at Ayla and Jondalar. “Would you like to come along? And perhaps bring the horses? They could be useful if anyone does need help.”
“Today?” Jondalar asked.
“No, I was thinking of making a tour of our neighbors tomorrow morning.”
“I’d be glad to go with you,” Ayla said.
“Of course, I will, too,” Jondalar said.
Ayla and Jondalar unloaded Racer’s travois, except for their own things, and left the bundles on the ledge in front of the living section, then led the horses pulling the nearly empty pole-drags past the part of the shelter where most of the people lived. They lived at the the other end of the inhabited area, although the overhanging stone protected a much larger section, which was only used occasionally, except for the places they had made for the horses. As they walked along the front of the huge abri, they couldn’t help but notice some newly fallen pieces of stone, but nothing too large, nothing much bigger than pieces that sometimes split off by themselves for no reason that anyone could determine.
When they reached the large, flat stone near the edge of the front porch that Joharran and others sometimes used to stand on when they wanted to address a group, Ayla wondered when it fell and what had caused it. Was it an earthquake or had it just sheared off by itself? Suddenly the stone shelters that had seemed so protective didn’t feel quite so safe anymore.
As they started to lead the horses under the overhanging ledge toward their space, Ayla wondered if they would balk the way they had the night before. But the place was familiar to them and they apparently sensed no danger. They went right in, which gave her an immense feeling of relief. There is really no protection when the earth decides to shake, inside or out, but if the horses were to give her a warning again, she did think she would rather be outside.
They unhitched the two pole-drags and left them in their usual place, then led the horses to the corrals that they had made for them. They were not penned in. The structures they had constructed under the overhanging ledge were there for the animals’ comfort; they were free to come and go at any time. Ayla brought water from the spring-fed stream that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River, and poured it into their troughs, although the horses could just as easily have gotten water from the stream themselves. She wanted to make sure that water was available in the middle of the night, especially for the little one.
Only during the spring rutting season were there any constraints on the horses. Then not only did they fasten the gates closed, put halters on the animals, and tie them to posts to keep them from getting free, but Ayla and Jondalar usually slept nearby to drive away the stallions that were drawn to the mare. Ayla didn’t want Whinney to be captured by some stallion and driven to his herd, and Jondalar didn’t want Racer running off to be hurt fighting with other stallions in an effort to mount the tempting females. He even had to be kept away from his dam, whose mating scent was so overpoweringly close. It was a difficult time for all of them.
Some hunters took advantage of Whinney’s luring aroma, which could be detected by males more than a mile away, and killed a few of the wild horses, but they stayed out of sight of Ayla and made sure not to mention it to her. She was aware of the practice and couldn’t really blame them. She had lost her taste for horsemeat, and chose not to eat it, but she knew most people enjoyed it. Just so long as they didn’t go after her horses, she didn’t object to others hunting the animals. They were a valuable food source.
They walked back to their own dwelling and unloaded their belongings. Although they hadn’t been gone very long, not even as long as usual for a Summer Meeting, Ayla was happy to be back. Visiting other Caves and Sacred Sites along the way seemed to have taken more time than normal, and the effort left her tired. The earthquake had been particularly draining. She shuddered at the thought of it.
Jonayla had been fussing and she brought the baby to the changing place just outside the dwelling; then she went inside and settled down to nurse, happy to be there. The structure had rawhide-panel walls but no ceiling, at least none that was constructed. When she looked up, she saw the underside of the overhanging rock of the natural stone shelter. She could smell food cooking and knew they would share a meal with some of their usual community, and then she’d be able to crawl into her bedroll and cuddle up between Jondalar and Jonayla, with Wolf just beyond. She was glad to be home.
“There’s a Sacred Cave nearby that you haven’t really explored, Ayla,” Zelandoni said while they were sharing their morning meal the day after their return. “The one we call the Women’s Place, on the other side of Grass River.”
“But I’ve been to the Women’s Place,” Ayla said.
“Yes, you’ve been there, but how far in did you go? There is much more to it than you’ve seen. It’s on the way to Horsehead Rock and Elder Hearth
. I think we should make a stop on our way back.”
Ayla found the visits to the Sacred Caves fascinating, but it was exhausting, and she had seen so many recently, she was tired of visiting decorated caves. It was too much to take in all at once. She wanted some time to think about what she had already seen, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse Zelandoni’s suggestion, any more than she could refuse her request to accompany her when she went to visit the other Caves in the region to see how they had fared during the earthquake. She wanted to know, too, though she was also tired of traveling and wouldn’t have minded resting for a day or so.
The earthquake had been experienced by the Third, the Eleventh, and the Fourteenth Caves, their closest neighbors, as well as by Elder Hearth, the Second Cave, and Horsehead Rock, the Seventh, with little damage, if the signal fires had been interpreted right, but the First wanted to check on the Caves that were a little farther away just to make sure. A few people from the nearby Caves had some bruises from falling stones, and a beautiful lamp that had been carved out of sandstone was smashed. The Donier wanted to make sure that any injuries that might have been sustained really weren’t serious. Ayla had the sense that the quake hadn’t been as strong in this region as it had been at Old Valley, and wondered if it had been more severe farther north.
On the way to Horsehead Rock, they stopped by a couple of homesites of smaller Caves near Little Grass River that were being formed by some young people who were beginning to feel crowded out. Several caves and abris in the region were inhabited, at least part of the year, and people had started to refer to the area as New Home. They were all empty, even the most settled one, called Bear Hill. Zelandoni explained that the young people who lived there still thought of themselves as belonging to the Cave of their families and traveled with them to the Summer Meeting. Those who couldn’t or didn’t go gathered with the ones who stayed behind from their primary Cave. Though they didn’t see any people, going that way allowed Jondalar and Zelandoni to show Ayla the “back way” to Horsehead Rock and Elder Hearth, and Sweet Valley, the rich, moist lowland between them.
After checking out Bear Hill, they crossed Little Grass River—the stream was low at this time of year and easy to traverse, especially where it widened out—and headed over the highland toward Sweet Valley and Horsehead Rock, the Seventh Cave of the Zelandonii. The ones who had stayed back from the Second Cave had joined the Seventh Cave, but there were still just a few people left behind, and they welcomed the visitors eagerly, partly because the ones who were ill or failing were glad to see the Doniers, but mostly because it broke up the tedium of seeing only the same few people. The Zelandonii were a sociable folk, used to living in close quarters with a number of others, and most, even if they were unable to go, missed the excitement of the Summer Meeting. Since the people were still at the Summer Meeting, or doing some other summer activity—hunting, fishing, gathering, exploring, or visiting—it felt a bit strange to visit the Caves when they were nearly empty.
They had all felt the earthquake, but no one had been injured, though some were still nervous about it and sought out reassurance from the First. Ayla observed how the woman managed to comfort them with her words, though she didn’t really say anything specific, and couldn’t have done anything about the natural upheaval anyway. It was her way of speaking, her assured manner, her posture, the younger woman thought. Zelandoni even made her feel better. They stayed overnight; people had started preparing a place for them to sleep and making food for a small feast as soon as they had arrived. It would have been impolite, not to mention unkind, for them to have left any sooner.
On the way back the next day, Zelandoni wanted to check a place they had bypassed on the way out. They rode back over the raised ground again, toward Little Grass River but more upstream, to a community on the edge of the highland called Lookout. It was well named. A settled area around rocky outcrops that offered some protection from weather was unoccupied by its inhabitants at the moment, but from a rise nearby, they could see for a long distance in many directions, particularly toward the west.
Ayla felt unsettled from the moment they drew near to the place. She didn’t know why, but she had an uncanny feeling in the middle of her back and as far as she was concerned, they couldn’t get away fast enough. The moment she dismounted from her horse, Wolf sought her out, rubbing against her leg and whining. He didn’t like the place either, but the horses seemed unperturbed. It was a perfectly normal summer day, with a warm sun and green grass growing on the hillside, and the place had an excellent view of the countryside. There was nothing she could see or detect to account for her discomfort, and she hesitated to say anything.
“Do you want to stop and rest, and have a midday meal here, Zelandoni?” Jondalar asked.
“I don’t think there is any reason for us to stay here,” the woman replied, heading back to the pole-drag, “especially if we are going to stop and see the Women’s Place. And if we don’t take too long, it’s close enough to the Ninth Cave that we can get home before dark.”
Ayla wasn’t at all sorry that Zelandoni decided to continue and was glad now that the First had wanted to show her the sacred deep of the Women’s Place. They worked their way down the western side of the highland to Little Grass River, and near its confluence with Grass River they crossed over. Just a short distance beyond was a small U-shaped valley surrrounded by tall limestone cliffs that opened out onto Grass River, and across that, the green valley that gave the waterway its name, Grass Valley.
The little meadow’s lush grass often enticed various grazers, but the high walls of the sides eased to a comfortably climbable slope, especially for hoofed animals, some three hundred feet back, which made it not quite suitable for a hunting trap without extensive construction of fences and corrals. Such work had been started once, but never finished. Only part of a rotting back fence remained of the effort.
The area was known as the Women’s Place. Men were not restricted, but since it was used primarily by women, few men outside of the zelandonia visited the site. Ayla had stopped there before, but it was usually to bring a message to someone, or she was with someone who was on the way to some other place. She had never had occasion to stay long. Usually she had come from the direction of the Ninth Cave, and she knew that when entering the small meadow with Grass River at her back, on the outside of the wall on the right was a small cave, a temporary shelter and sometime storage place. Another small cave penetrated the same limestone wall just after rounding the corner into the enclosed valley.
Of much greater importance were two caves, narrow winding fissures that opened out of a small rock shelter that was at the back of the meadow somewhat raised from the level of the floodplain floor. Those caves at the rear of the valley had contributed to the reluctance to make the site into a hunting site, though it would not have mattered if it had been ideally suited to the purpose. The first passage, on the right, wove its way within the limestone wall back toward the way they had come until it came out at a small, narrow exit not far from the first small cave in the right wall. Though it had many engravings on its walls, it and the rock shelter where it started were used primarily as a place to stay while visiting the other cave.
No one was there when Ayla, Jondalar, and Zelandoni arrived. Most people had not yet returned from their summer activities, and the few who stayed at their living sites had no reason to visit. Jondalar unhitched the pole-drags from the horses to give them a rest. The women who used it kept the area generally neat and orderly, but it was visited often and was well used, and a Women’s Place was inevitably a children’s place as well. When Ayla had visited before, the usual activities of ordinary living were apparent. There had been wooden bowls and boxes, woven baskets, toys, clothing, and racks and posts for drying or making things. Implements of wood, bone, antler, or flint were sometimes lost or broken, or carried off by children and ended up kicked aside or left in the cave, unnoticed in the dark. Food was cooked, trash piled up, and, particula
rly when the weather was bad, was disposed of inside the cave, but, Ayla had learned, only in the right-hand cave.
Some things were still around. Ayla found a log with a trough dug out of it that had obviously been used to hold liquid, but she decided to use their own utensils to make tea and soup. She gathered some wood and, using an existing black depression filled with charcoal, started a fire and added cooking stones to heat water. Some logs and chunks of limestone had been dragged close to the fireplace by previous occupants, and Zelandoni took the stuffed pads from her travois and placed them around to make the seating more comfortable. Ayla nursed, then put Jonayla down on her blanket on the grass while she ate, and watched the baby fall asleep.
“Do you want to come along, Jondalar?” Zelandoni asked when they had finished. “You probably haven’t seen it since you were a boy and made your mark inside.”
“Yes, I think I will,” he said.
Nearly everyone made a mark on the walls of this cave at some time, occasionally more than once, although the males of the community were usually children or young adolescents when they made theirs. He remembered the first time he went inside by himself. It was a simple cave with no passages leading off to get lost in, and youngsters were allowed to find their own way. Generally, they went in alone or at most in pairs to make their own private marks, whistling or humming or chanting along the way until the walls seemed to answer back. The marks and engravings did not symbolize or represent names; they were a way that people told the Great Earth Mother about themselves, how they defined themselves to Her. Often they only made finger tracings. It was enough.
After they finished their meal, Ayla wrapped her infant securely to her back and they each lit a lamp and started into the cave, Zelandoni in front and Wolf bringing up the rear. Jondalar recalled that the left cave felt exceedingly long—it was more than eight hundred feet deep, winding through the limestone—and that the beginning of the fissure was fairly easy to enter, and unremarkable. Only a few markings on the walls near the entrance indicated that someone had been there before.