by Jean M. Auel
“This is as far as we need to go,” Shevola said. “If we go straight, it just ends. There is another very tight passage to the left, but once you get through it there’s nothing except another little room that also just ends. We should go back.”
“Do you ever do ceremonies or rituals when you come here?” Ayla asked as she turned around and stroked the wolf, who was patiently waiting.
“The ritual was the making of these images,” the young acolyte said. “The person who came here, perhaps once, or maybe more times, was making a ritual Journey. I don’t know, it may have been a Zelandoni, or an acolyte becoming a Zelandoni, but I can imagine that it was someone who felt a need to reach for the Spirit World, for the Great Earth Mother. There are some sacred caves that are meant for people to visit and conduct rituals, but I think this was done as a personal Journey. In my mind I try to acknowledge that person when I come here, in my own private way.”
“I think you are going to be a very good Zelandoni,” Ayla said. “You are already so wise. I was feeling the need to recognize this place and the one who created this work. I think I will follow your advice and reflect on it and the one who made it, and offer a personal thought to Doni, but I would like to do more, perhaps reach for the Spirit World, too. Have you ever touched the walls?”
“No, but you can if you want.”
“Will you hold my torch?” Ayla asked.
Shevola took the torch and held both of them high to shed more light in the tiny cramped cave. Ayla reached up with both hands outstretched and put them palm down on the wall, not on any of the engravings or paintings, but near them. One hand felt the wet clay, the other the rough surface of the limestone. Then she closed her eyes. It was the clay surface that first gave her a tingling feeling; then a sense of intensity seemed to flow out of the rock wall. She wasn’t sure if it was real or if she was imagining it.
For an instant, her thoughts flashed back to when she was living with the Clan and her trip to the Clan Gathering. She had been the one who was required to make the special drink for the mog-urs. Iza had explained the process to her. She had to chew the hard, dry roots, and spit the mash into the water in the special bowl, then stir it with her finger. She wasn’t supposed to swallow any, but she couldn’t help it, and she felt the effects. After Creb tasted it, he must have thought it was too strong, and gave each mog-ur less to drink.
After she consumed the women’s special drink and danced with them, she went back and found the bowl with some of the white milky liquid still in the bottom. Iza had told her it should never be wasted, and Ayla wasn’t sure what to do, so she drank it, then found herself following the lights of lamps and torches into a sinuous cave to the special meeting of the mog-urs. The rest didn’t know she was there, but The Mog-ur, her Creb, did. She never did understand the thoughts and visions that filled her head that night, but afterward they came back to her sometimes. That’s how she was feeling now, not as strongly, but the same sensation. She lifted her hands from the cave wall, and felt a shiver of apprehension.
Both young women were quiet as they retraced their steps, stopping for a moment to look again at the first reindeer and its accompanying signs. Ayla noticed some curved lines that she hadn’t seen the first time. They continued past the unstable scree slope, which made Ayla shudder, and the narrowed places until they reached the very difficult passage. This time Wolf went first. When they reached the place that required them to proceed ahead on hands and knees, one hand since the other was holding the light, she saw that her torch was burning low, and hoped it would last until they were through.
When they reached the other side, Ayla could see light coming in from the opening, and her breasts felt full. She hadn’t thought they were gone that long, but she knew Jonayla needed feeding or would soon. They hurried to the stones where they had left their backframes, and both young women reached for their waterbags. They were thirsty. Ayla dug down in the bottom of her pack for a small bowl she kept for Wolf. She poured some into the bowl for the animal, then took a drink from the bag herself. When they were through, and she had repacked Wolf’s bowl, they hoisted their packs to their backs and started out of the cave to return to the place called Summer Camp of Three Rocks, the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.
16
“There’s Reflection Rock,” Jondalar said. “Did you plan to stop at the South Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave, Zelandoni?”
The small procession of people, horses, and Wolf came to a halt beside The River and looked up at the impressive limestone cliff divided into five and in some places six levels. Like most of the cliff walls in the region, there were naturally occuring black vertical streaks of manganese that gave a distinctive look to the face of the cliff. They noticed some movement of people who were looking at them but apparently didn’t necessarily want to be seen. Ayla recalled that several people of this Cave, including the leader, were quite apprehensive around the horses and Wolf, and she rather hoped they would not be stopping here.
“I’m sure there are a few people there who stayed back from the Summer Meeting,” the woman said, “but we visited last year and we didn’t get the chance to visit the Fifth Cave. I think we should keep going.”
They continued upstream, following the same trail that they had the year before, heading for the place where the river spread out and the water became shallow, and more easily crossed. If they had planned to follow The River, and if they had made arrangements before they left, they could have traveled by raft, a journey that required poling the bulky craft upstream. Or they could walk on the trail beside The River, which would require going due north, then east as the waterway started into a broad bend that curved around in a large loop, and then south and east again, making another large loop that would end up bearing north again, a trek of ten miles. After the large looping S curves, the path along The River proceeded upstream with gentler meandering turns toward the northeast.
There were some small living sites near the northern end of the first loop, but Zelandoni was planning to visit a sizable settlement at the southernmost end of the second loop, the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii, sometimes known as Old Valley. It was easier to reach Old Valley by going across country rather than following the river around the extensive S curves. Starting from Reflection Rock on the left bank of The River, it was only a little more than three miles east and just slightly north to the large Fifth Cave, though the trail, following the easiest way across the hilly terrain, was not quite so direct.
When they arrived at the shallow crossing of The River, they stopped again. Jondalar got down from Racer’s back and scrutinized the river crossing. “It’s up to you. Would you rather get down and wade across, or stay on the pole-drag, Zelandoni?”
“I’m not sure. I think both of you would know better,” the Donier said.
“What do you think, Ayla?” Jondalar said.
She was in front of the group, using the carrying blanket to secure Jonayla in front of her on the mare’s back. She twisted around to look at the others. “The water doesn’t look deep, but it could be deeper farther on and you might find yourself sitting in water,” Ayla said.
“If I get out and wade, I will certainly get wet. Maybe I’ll take a chance and see if this seat keeps me drier,” the First said.
Ayla looked around at the sky. “It’s a good thing we got here now while the river is low. I think it might rain, or … I don’t know,” she muttered. “It feels like something is coming.”
Jondalar remounted his horse and Zelandoni stayed on the pole-drag. As they crossed, the horses were in water up to their belly and the two on horseback got their lower legs and bare feet wet. The Wolf, who had to swim a short distance, actually got fully soaked, but he shook it off when they reached the opposite bank. But the wooden pole-drag floated a bit, and the water level was low. Except for a few splashes, Zelandoni stayed quite dry.
Once across The River, they followed a well-marked path heading away from the river,
traversed up the side of a ridge, over a rounded top where another trail joined it, then down the opposite side and along the customary shortcut. The walking distance to the Fifth Cave of the Zelandonii was about four miles. As they were traveling, the First offered them some information and history about the Fifth Cave. Although Jondalar knew most of it, he still listened attentively; Ayla had heard some of it before, but learned much that was new.
“From the counting word in their name, you know that the Fifth Cave is the third oldest existing group of the Zelandonii,” the Donier began, speaking in her instructional voice, which carried quite a distance though it was not excessively loud. “Only the Second and Third Caves are older. While the Histories and Elder Legends speak of the First Cave, no one seems to know what happened to the Fourth. Most people assume that some illness reduced its numbers until they were less than viable, or a difference of opinion among a number of the people caused some to leave, with the remaining ones then joining another Cave. Such an occurrence is not uncommon, as the missing counting words in a naming and tallying of all the various Caves will attest. Most Caves have Histories of assimilating members or joining other groups, but none has any stories about the Fourth Cave. Some people imagine that a terrible tragedy befell the Fourth Cave, which caused the death of them all.”
The First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother continued to lecture as they proceeded, thinking that Ayla in particular needed to know as much as possible about her adopted people, especially since she would someday have to teach the younger ones of the Ninth Cave. Ayla found herself listening with fascination, watching the trail they were following only peripherally, guiding Whinney unconsciously with the pressure of a knee or a shift in her position as the woman behind her spoke, and though facing backward, filled the surrounding air with her voice.
The home of the Fifth Cave was a comfortable little valley between limestone cliffs below a high promontory with a clear stream running down the middle, which began in a lively spring and ended where it debouched straight into The River several hundred feet away. The high cliffs rearing up on both sides of the small stream offered nine rock shelters of various sizes, some rather high up on the walls, but not all of them had people living in them. The valley had been in use for as long as anyone could remember, which is why it was called Old Valley. The Histories and Elder Legends of the Zelandonii affirmed that many Caves had ties to the Fifth Cave.
Each one of the Caves in the Zelandonii territory was essentially independent, and could take care of its own basic needs. Members could hunt and fish, gather foods, and collect materials to make whatever they needed, not just to survive, but to live well. They were the most advanced society not only in their region, but perhaps in all the world in their time. The Caves cooperated with each other because it was in their best interests to do so. They sometimes went on group hunting expeditions, especially for larger animals like mammoth and megaceros, the giant deer, or for dangerous animals like the cave lion, and shared the dangers and the results. They sometimes gathered produce in large parties and were able to collect an abundance in a short ripening season before the food was past its prime.
They negotiated for mates from the larger group because they needed a more extensive pool of people to draw from than their own small Cave, and they exchanged goods not because they needed to, but because they liked what other people made. Their products were similar enough to be understandable, but offered interest and diversity, and when things went wrong, it was good to have friends or relatives they could turn to for help. Living in a periglacial region, an area that skirted glaciers, with exceedingly cold winters, things could go wrong.
Each Cave tended to specialize in various ways, partly as a result of where each one lived, and partly because certain people developed ways to do certain things especially well and passed on the knowledge to their closest kith and kin. For example, the Third Cave were considered to have the best hunters, primarily because they lived high up on a cliff at the confluence of two rivers with large grassy meadows on the floodplains below that attracted most varieties of game as they migrated through, and they were usually the first to see them. Because they were considered the best, they were continually perfecting their hunting and observing skills. If it was a large herd, they would signal nearby Caves for a group hunt. But if it was only a few animals, their hunters often went out themselves, though they often shared their bounty with neighboring Caves, especially during gatherings or festivals.
The people of the Fourteenth Cave were known as exceptional fishers. Every Cave fished, but they specialized in catching fish. They had a fairly healthy stream running through their small valley that began many miles upstream and was home to several different varieties of fish, in addition to being a spawning creek for salmon in season. They also fished The River and used many different techniques. They developed weirs to trap fish, and were very skilled in spear-fishing, net fishing, and the use of fish gouges, a kind of hook that was straight and pointed at both ends.
The shelter of the Eleventh Cave was close to The River. They had access to trees, and had developed the skills to make rafts, which had been passed down and improved through several generations. They poled the rafts up and down The River, hauling their own goods as well as goods for the other Caves, thereby acquiring benefits and obligations from their neighbors, which could be traded for other goods and services.
The Ninth Cave was located next to Down River, a site that was used as a gathering place by the local artisans and craftspeople. As a result, many of those people moved to the Ninth Cave, which partly accounted for the fact that so many people lived there. If someone wanted a special tool or knife made, or rawhide panels that were used for constructing dwellings, or new cordage, whether heavy rope or strong twine or fine thread, or clothing or tents or the materials to make them, or wooden or woven bowls or cups, or a painting or carving of a horse or bison or any other animal, or any number of other creative things, they went to the Ninth Cave.
The Fifth Cave, on the other hand, thought of themselves as being very self-sufficient in every way. They counted themselves as having extremely skilled hunters, fishers, and artisans of every kind. They even made their own rafts, and claimed to be the Cave that invented them in the first place, though that claim was disputed by the Eleventh. Their Doniers were well respected and had always been. Several of the stone shelters in the small valley were decorated with paintings and carvings of animals, some in high relief.
However, most of the Zelandonii thought of the Fifth Cave as specializing in the making of jewelry and beads as personal decorations and ornamentation. When someone wanted a new necklace, or various kinds of beads to sew on clothing, they often went to the Fifth Cave. They were especially skilled at making beads out of ivory, and each single bead was a long and painstaking process to make. They also carved holes through the roots of the teeth of various animals for pendants and distinctive beads—fox teeth and red deer canines were favorites—and they managed to acquire seashells of various kinds from both the Great Waters of the West and the large Southern Sea.
When the travelers from the Ninth Cave reached the Fifth Cave’s little valley, they were quickly surrounded. People were coming out of several stone shelters in the cliffs on both sides of the small river. Several were standing in front of the large opening of a shelter that faced southwest. Others emerged from another shelter just to the north of it, and on the other side of the valley more people were coming out of shelters. The travelers were surprised to find so many people, more than they expected. Either a large proportion of the Cave had decided not to go to any Summer Meeting, or they had come back early.
The people approached with curiosity, but none came too close. They were held back a little by fear and awe. Jondalar was a familiar figure to all the Zelandonii, except for the younger people who had come of age while he was gone. And everyone knew about his return from a long Journey and had seen the woman and animals he had brought with him, but
the unusual procession of Jondalar and the foreign woman with her baby, the wolf, three horses, including a foal, and the One Who Was First sitting on a seat dragged by one of the horses made quite an impression. To many there was something eerily supernatural about animals behaving so docilely when they should be running away.
One of the first who saw them had run to tell the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave, who was waiting for them. The man, who was among those in front of the shelter on the right, approached, smiling cordially. He was middle aged, but on the young side of the range. He had long brown hair pulled back and wrapped around his head in a complicated coiffure, and the tattoos on his face that announced his important position were more elaborate than they needed to be, but he wasn’t the only Zelandoni who had embellished his tattoos. There was a soft roundness about him, and the fleshiness of his face tended to make his eyes look small and gave him an air of shrewd cleverness, which wasn’t entirely incorrect.
In the beginning, Zelandoni had reserved judgment of him, not sure if she could trust him, not even sure if she liked him. He could argue his opinions very strongly, even when they were opposed to hers, but he had proven his reliability and loyalty, and in meetings and councils, the First came to rely on the shrewdness of his advice. Ayla was still withholding her complete trust of him, but when she learned that Zelandoni thought well of him, she was more inclined to give him credence.
Another man followed him out of the stone shelter, one whom Ayla had distrusted the first time she met him. Madroman had been born to the Ninth Cave, though later he moved to the Fifth Cave, and obviously became an acolyte from that group. The Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave had several acolytes, and though Madroman may have been among the oldest of his acolytes, he was not the one ranked as first. But Jondalar was surprised to discover that he had been accepted into the zelandonia at all.