by Jean M. Auel
“The reason for names often gets lost in the depths of memory,” the First said. The big woman was out of breath and huffing a bit as she climbed the hill, but continued doggedly on. The zigzagging trail made the ascent a little easier, if longer.
Finally they reached an opening into the limestone hill at a point that was quite high above the valley floor. The entrance was not very exceptional, and if the path had not led to it, it would hardly have been noticed. The opening was high enough to enter without ducking or stooping and wide enough to accommodate two or three people, but a large bush growing in front of it would have made it difficult to find unless one knew exactly where to look. One of the acolytes brushed away a small spill of rubble spalling off the rocky slope above that had accumulated in front of the entrance. Ayla showed her skill with making fire quickly, which included a promise to show the Seventh how it was done; then lamps and torches were lit.
The Zelandoni of the South Land Seventh Cave led the way into the cave, followed by the First, then Jonokol, Ayla, Jondalar, and Willamar. They were followed by the local zelandonia who chose to come, including a couple of acolytes. The group numbered twelve in all. The entrance opened into the side of a passageway that required them to turn either right or left. They turned right and after a short distance, the passage widened and split into two tunnels. They had entered a room that had a stone blockage in the middle with a narrow passageway around it on one side and a wider one on the other.
“We could go either way; we’d end up in the same place, at a pile of rocks in the back with no way out except the way we came in, but there are some interesting things to see,” the Seventh said.
They took the narrow right fork and immediately came upon some small red dots on the right wall, which the Seventh pointed out. There were more on the left wall; then a little farther on they stopped to look at a horse painted on the right wall and more dots, and near it a lion with a fantastic tail held up but curled toward the back. Ayla wondered if the person who made the image had perhaps seen a lion with a broken tail that had healed with an odd twist. She knew how strangely broken bones sometimes healed.
Then on the right wall, after a few more paces along the narrow passage, they came to a panel that the Seventh called “the Deer.” The drawing made Ayla think of female megaceroses, and she remembered that they had seen the giant deer painted in the Sacred Cave near the South Land Fourth Cave. Across from it on the left were two large red dots. More red dots were painted on the wall beyond the deer, and then on the vaulted ceiling ahead were several rows of large dots.
Ayla was curious about the dots, but she was reluctant to ask questions. Finally she ventured a query. “Do you know what the dots represent?”
The tall man with the full brown beard smiled at the attractive acolyte, whose lovely features had a bit of a foreign aspect, which appealed to him. “They don’t necessarily mean the same thing to everyone, but to me, when I am in the right state of mind, they seem to be pathways leading to the next world and, more important, they show the way back.” She nodded at his answer, then smiled. He liked her look even better when she smiled.
They continued around the middle-section blockage through the narrow passage, which then opened wider. They kept veering toward the left until they were headed in the direction that led back to the place from which they started, through a much larger room that had obviously been used by bears, probably hibernating bears. The walls bore the traces of their claws as they raked them down the limestone. When they approached the opening through which they had entered the cave, the Seventh kept going straight ahead, the direction they would have been going if they had turned left when they first entered the cave.
They walked some distance, staying close to the right wall, through a long tunnel. It wasn’t until they reached an opening to the right that they saw more markings; on the low vaulted ceiling of the passage were four red negative handprints, somewhat smeared, three red dots, and some black marks. Across the opening were a series of eleven large black dots and two negative handprints that had been made by placing a hand on the wall and spattering red color on and around it. When the hand was taken away, a negative impression of the hand remained surrounded by the red ocher. The Seventh then turned right into the opening of the vaulted passage.
Beyond the smeared negative handprints, the stone on the wall became soft, as though covered with clay. The cave was high above the river valley floor, and reasonably dry inside, but it was calcareous rock, which was naturally porous, and water saturated with calcium carbonate constantly seeped through it. Sometimes, drip by infinitesimal drip, over millennia, huge stalagmite pillars formed, which seemed to grow from the floor of a limestone cave below stalactite icicles of equal size but different shape suspended from the ceiling. But sometimes the water accumulated in the limestone and left the surface of the cave walls softened enough that marks could be made with only the fingers. Significant areas of the softened stone had formed in the small room to the right, which seemed to invite visitors to mark. Portions of the walls were covered with a scrawl of fingermarks, which for the most part were unorganized scribbles, although one area included the partial drawing of a megaceros defined by a huge distinctive palmate antler and a small head.
There were other signs and dots painted in red or black color where the surface was hard enough, but except for the megaceros, Ayla felt the room was filled with disorganized marks that were meaningless to her. But she was beginning to learn that no one knew what everything in the painted caves meant. It was likely that no one actually knew what anything meant, except the person who put it there, and perhaps not even then. If something painted on the walls of a cave made you feel something, then whatever you felt was what it meant. It might depend on your state of mind, which could be altered, or how receptive you were. Ayla thought about what the Seventh said when she asked him about the rows of large dots. He put it in very personal terms and told her what the dots meant to him. The caves were Sacred Sites, but she was beginning to think it was a personal, individual sacredness. Maybe that’s what she was supposed to be learning on this trip.
When they left the small room, the Seventh crossed to the left side of the main passageway that led to it. The tunnel at that point turned toward the left and they walked along the left wall for a short distance. Then the Seventh held up his lamp. It illuminated a long panel filled with animals painted in black, many superimposed on others. At first she saw the mammoths—there were many of them—then she saw the horses, the bison, and the aurochs. One of the mammoths was covered with black marks. The Seventh said nothing about the panel; he just stayed there long enough for everyone to see what they wanted to see. When he saw most people starting to lose interest, except Jonokol, who could probably have stayed much longer just to study the painting, the Seventh moved on. He next showed them a cornice on which were painted bison and mammoths.
There were several more markings and a few animals that the Seventh pointed out as they moved slowly through the cave, but the next place he stopped was truly remarkable. On a large panel were two horses painted in black, back-to-back, and the inside of the outlines of their bodies was filled with large black dots. In addition there were more dots and handprints around the outside of the horse outlines, but the most unusual aspect was the head of the right-facing horse. The painted head was quite small, but it was painted inside a natural contour of the rock that resembled the head of a horse and framed the painted head. The shape of the rock itself had told the artist that a horse needed to be painted there. All the visitors were very impressed. The First, who had seen the horse panel before, smiled at the Seventh. They had both known what was coming and they were pleased that they got the response they had expected.
“Do you know who painted this?” Jonokol asked.
“An Ancestor, but not an ancient one. Let me show you some things you may not notice immediately,” the Seventh said, stepping up closer to the stone panel. He held his left hand up over the bac
k of the left-facing horse and bent the joint of his thumb. When he held his hand beside a red outline, it was obvious that the negative space was not a handprint, but a bent thumb. Now that it had been pointed out, they could see that there were several outlines of bent thumbs along the back of the left-hand horse.
“Why was that done?” a young acolyte asked.
“You would have to ask the Zelandoni who painted it,” the Seventh replied.
“But you said it was done by an Ancestor.”
“Yes,” the Zelandoni said.
“But the Ancestor walks in the next world now.”
“Yes.”
“Then, how can I ask?”
The Seventh only smiled at the young man, who frowned and fidgeted. There were some titters of laughter from those watching, which suddenly made the young acolyte blush.
“I can’t ask, can I?”
“Perhaps when you learn to walk in the next world,” the First said. “There are some Zelandonia who can, you know. But it is very dangerous, and not all choose to.”
“I don’t believe everything on that panel was made by the same person,” Jonokol said. “The horses probably were, and the hands, and most of the dots, but I think some of them were added later, and the thumbs, and I think I see a red fish on top of that horse, but it’s not clear.”
“You may be right,” said the Seventh. “That’s very perceptive.”
“He is an artist,” Willamar said.
Ayla noticed that Willamar often tended to keep his opinions to himself, and wondered if that was something he had learned to do on his travels. When you traveled a lot and met many new people, it probably wasn’t wise to advance your own opinions on strangers too readily.
The Seventh showed them many other marks and paintings, including a human-like figure with lines either coming out of or going into his body, similar to those they had seen at the Fourth South Land Cave’s Sacred Site, but after the unusual horses, nothing else seemed to stand out, except for some formations far older than any of the paintings. Large disks of calcite naturally formed by the same actions that had created the cave itself decorated one room in the cave and were left alone in their own space without any embellishments added, as though they were decorations in their own right made by the Mother.
After they returned from visiting the Sacred Site, the First was anxious for them to be on their way again, but she felt she had to stay for a while to fulfill her role as the First Among Those Who Served The Great Mother, especially for the zelandonia. It wasn’t often that they had an opportunity to spend time with her. For some of the groups who lived within Zelandonii territory, the First was almost a mythical figure, a figurehead whom they acknowledged but seldom saw, and in reality, did not need to see. They were more than capable of performing their functions without her, but for the most part they were very pleased and excited to see her. It wasn’t as though they thought of her as the Mother Herself, or even the Mother incarnate, but she was definitely Her representative, and with her huge size, she was impressive. Having an acolyte who could control animals added to her stature. She had to stay a little longer.
During the evening meal, the Seventh sought out the visitors. He sat beside the First with his plate of food and smiled, then spoke softly to her. It wasn’t exactly a conspiratorial whisper, but Ayla was sure she would not have heard him if she hadn’t been sitting on the other side of the First.
“We have been talking about having a special ceremony at the Sacred Cave later tonight, and would like you and your acolyte to join us if you feel up to it,” he said.
The First smiled at him encouragingly. This might make her decision to stay a little longer a bit more interesting, she thought.
“Ayla, would you be interested in going to this special ceremony?”
“If you would like me to, I would be happy to join you,” Ayla said.
“What about Jonayla? Can Jondalar watch her?” the First asked.
“I’m sure he could,” Ayla said, not as excited about going since Jondalar wasn’t invited, but then he wasn’t a part of the zelandonia.
“I’ll come for you later,” the Seventh said. “Dress warmly. It gets cool at night.”
After things had quieted down and most people had gone either to their beds or to some other activity—talking, drinking, dancing, gambling, or whatever else they chose—the Zelandoni of the South Land Seventh Cave returned to their camp. Jondalar was waiting with Ayla and Zelandoni beside the fire. He wasn’t particularly pleased about Ayla going off at night to participate in some secret ceremony, but he didn’t say anything. A Zelandoni was, after all, what she was training to be. Part of that was secret ceremonies with other zelandonia.
The Seventh had brought some torches and lit them from the small fire that was still burning in the fireplace. He took the lead when they started out, followed by the First and then Ayla, each holding a torch. Jondalar watched them as they headed up the trail that led to the Sacred Cave. He was even tempted to follow them, but he had promised to watch Jonayla.
Wolf had apparently had the same inclination, but not long after they left, the wolf came back to the camp. He went into the tent and sniffed the child, then walked out, looked in the direction Ayla had taken, then went to Jondalar and sat down close beside him. Soon he laid his head on his front paws, still watching the direction she had gone. Jondalar put his hand on the animal’s head and ran it down across his shoulders and back a few times, petting the great canine.
“She chased you away, too, didn’t she?” the man said. Wolf whined softly.
22
The Seventh led the two women along the path up toward the Sacred Cave. Some torches had been stuck in the ground beside the path to help guide them, and Ayla suddenly recalled the time she had followed the lamps and torches into the winding cave at the Clan Gathering until she came upon the mog-urs. She knew she wasn’t supposed to be there then and had stopped just in time, hiding behind a huge stalagmite so they wouldn’t see her, but Creb knew she was there. This time she was part of the group that had been invited to join the gathering.
It was a good walk up to the Sacred Cave and by the time they reached it they were all breathing hard. The First was thinking to herself that she was glad she had decided to make this trip now; in a few years she wouldn’t be able to. Ayla had been aware of her difficulty and had purposely slowed down to make it easier for the woman. They knew they were close when they saw a fire burning ahead, and soon after noticed several people standing or sitting around it.
They were greeted with enthusiasm by the gathering, then stood and talked while they waited for a few more to arrive. Soon another group of three appeared, Jonokol among them. He had been visiting the camp of another Cave whose Zelandoni was also inclined to make images. They were also greeted by all; then the Seventh addressed them.
“We are very fortunate to have the First Among Those Who Serve The Great Mother with us. I don’t think she has ever joined one of our Summer Meetings before and she makes this an especially memorable occasion. Her acolyte, and the Zelandoni who was her acolyte, are both with her, and we are pleased to welcome them as well.”
There were words and gestures of greeting and then the Seventh continued. “We should all make ourselves comfortable around the fire; we brought pads to sit on. I have a special tea to try, for any who would like to. It was given to me by a Zelandoni far to the south of here, in the foothills of the tall mountains that define the boundary of Zelandonii territory. She has watched over a very sacred cave there for many years and renews it frequently. All Sacred Caves are wombs of the Great Mother, but in some Her presence is so profound, we know they must be exceptionally close to Her; hers is one of those. I think the Zelandoni who maintains it for the Mother has pleased Her so well, it has made the Mother want to stay close to it.”
Ayla noticed that Jonokol was paying very close attention to the words of the Seventh, and thought it might be because he wanted to learn how to please the Mother s
o she would stay close to the white cave. He never said it in so many words, but she knew he considered it his special Sacred Cave. She did, too.
Someone had put cooking rocks in the fire previously and were now taking them out with bentwood tongs, and dropping them into a tightly woven container of water. Then the Seventh added the contents of a leather pouch to the steaming water. The scent pervaded the area and Ayla tried to identify the ingredients. She thought it was a mixture, some of which seemed familiar, but some not at all. Overlying everything else was a strong odor of mint, which she thought might have been added to disguise the smell of some other ingredient or to mask an unpleasant odor or taste. After the tea had steeped for a while, the Seventh dipped some out into two cups, one larger than the other.
“This is a powerful drink,” the Seventh said. “I have tried it once, and I will be very careful before using very much of it again. It can take you very close to the world of the spirits, but I think everyone can have a taste, if you are careful not to take too much. One of my acolytes has offered to drink a larger dosage so that she can be a way in, a conduit for us.”
The larger cup was passed around and each one there took a small drink. When it reached the First, she smelled it first, then took a small sip and rolled it around in her mouth, trying to distinguish the elements. Then she took a slightly larger taste, and passed it on to Ayla. She had observed the First closely, and did the same thing. It was very potent. The scent alone was strong and made her feel a bit dizzy. The sip filled her mouth with a powerful taste that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but wasn’t something she would want to drink every day like a normal cup of tea, and the small taste that she swallowed almost made her feel faint. She wished she knew what the ingredients were.
After tasting, everyone watched as the Seventh’s acolyte drank the small cupful. It wasn’t long before she was on her feet, weaving unsteadily toward the entrance to the Sacred Cave. The Seventh quickly got up to offer a hand to help her keep her balance. The rest of the zelandonia present followed them into the Sacred Cave, several of them carrying lit torches. They allowed the First, along with Ayla and Jonokol, to go ahead. Although it was quite a long way in, the acolyte went almost directly to the area of the cave where the painted horses that enclosed the large dots were. Several of those with torches went close to the wall to shine light on them.