by Jean M. Auel
The Earth was bereft. No green plants were left.
The Mother was weary, grieving and worn,
But She reached out again for the life She had borne.
She couldn’t give up, She needed to strive,
For the glorious light of Her son to survive.
She continued the fight. To bring back the light.
And Her luminous friend was prepared to contest,
The thief who held captive the child of Her breast.
Together they fought for the son She adored.
Their efforts succeeded, his light was restored.
His energy burned. His brilliance returned.
But the bleak frigid dark craved his bright glowing heat.
The Mother defended and would not retreat.
The whirlwind pulled hard, She refused to let go,
She fought to a draw with Her dark swirling foe.
She held darkness at bay. But Her son was away.
When She fought the whirlwind and made chaos flee,
The light from Her son glowed with vitality.
When the Mother grew tired, the bleak void held sway,
And darkness returned at the end of the day.
She felt warmth from Her son. But neither had
won.
The Great Mother lived with the pain in Her heart,
That She and Her son were forever apart.
She ached for the child that had been denied,
So She quickened once more from the life-force inside.
She was not reconciled. To the loss of Her child.
When She was ready, Her waters of birth,
Brought back the green life to the cold barren Earth.
And the tears of Her loss, abundantly spilled,
Made dew drops that sparkled and rainbows that
thrilled.
Birth waters brought green. But Her tears could be
seen.
With a thunderous roar Her stones split asunder,
And from the great cave that opened deep under,
She birthed once again from Her cavernous room,
And brought forth the Children of Earth from Her
womb.
From the Mother forlorn, more children were born.
Each child was different, some were large and some small,
Some could walk and some fly, some could swim and some crawl.
But each form was perfect, each spirit complete,
Each one was a model whose shape could repeat.
The Mother was willing. The green earth was
filling.
All the birds and the fish and the animals born,
Would not leave the Mother, this time, to mourn.
Each kind would live near the place of its birth,
And share the expanse of the Great Mother Earth.
Close to Her they would stay. They could not run
away.
They all were Her children, they filled Her with pride,
But they used up the life-force She carried inside.
She had enough left for a last innovation,
A child who’d remember Who made the creation.
A child who’d respect. And learn to protect.
First Woman was born full-grown and alive,
And given the Gifts she would need to survive.
Life was the First Gift, and like Mother Earth,
She woke to herself knowing life had great worth.
First Woman defined. The first of her kind.
Next was the Gift of Perception, of learning,
The desire to know, the Gift of Discerning,
First Woman was given the knowledge within,
That would help her to live, and pass on to her kin.
First Woman would know. How to learn, how to
grow.
Her life-force near gone, The Mother was spent,
To pass on Life’s Spirit had been Her intent.
She caused all of Her children to create life anew,
And Woman was blessed to bring forth life, too.
But Woman was lonely. She was the only.
The Mother remembered Her own loneliness,
The love of Her friend and his hovering caress.
With the last spark remaining, Her labor began,
To share life with Woman, She created First Man.
Again She was giving. One more was living.
To Woman and Man the Mother gave birth,
And then for their home, She gave them the Earth,
The water, the land, and all Her creation.
To use them with care was their obligation.
It was their home to use. But not to abuse.
For the Children of Earth the Mother provided,
The Gifts to survive, and then She decided,
To give them the Gift of Pleasure and sharing,
That honors the Mother with the joy of their pairing.
The Gifts are well-earned. When honor’s returned.
The Mother was pleased with the pair She created,
She taught them to love and to care when they mated.
She made them desire to join with each other,
The Gift of their Pleasures came from the Mother.
Before She was through. Her children loved too.
Earth’s Children were blessed. The Mother could
rest.
LIST OF CHARACTERS
Ayla—of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, formerly Ayla of the Lion Camp of the Mamutoi, Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth, Chosen by the Spirit of the Cave Lion, Protected by the Cave Bear, Friend of the horses, Whinney and Racer, and the four-legged hunter, Wolf
Jondalar—of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, Ayla’s intended, son of former leader, brother of leader; called Jondé by his sister Folara
Zelandoni (Zolena)—Current Zelandoni, former lover of Jondalar
Thonolan/d—Jondalar’s younger brother, killed on Journey
Folara—Jondalar’s younger sister
Marthona—Jondalar’s mother, former leader, also mother of Joharran, Folara
Willamar—Marthona’s mate, Trade Master, Traveler
Tivonan—Willamar’s apprentice trader
Joconan/d—Marthona’s first mate, dead, man of Joharran’s hearth
Joharran—Jondalar’s older brother, leader of Ninth Cave
Proleva—Joharran’s mate
Jaradal—Proleva’s son, Joharran’s hearth child
Levela—Proleva’s younger sister, Jondecam’s mate
Jondecam—Levela’s mate, nephew of Kimeran and son of Zelandoni of the Second Cave
Velima—mother of Proleva and Levela
Solaban—Hunter, adviser, and friend of Joharran
Ramara—Solaban’s mate
Robenan—Ramara’s son
Rushemar—Hunter, adviser, and friend of Joharran
Salova—Rushemar’s mate
Marsola—Salova’s daughter
Marona—Jondalar’s former girlfriend
Wylopa—Marona’s cousin
Portula—Marona’s friend
Lorava—Portula’s younger sister
Ramila—Folara’s friend
Galeya—Folara’s friend
Charezal—New member of Ninth Cave, stranger to Jondalar
Shevonar/d—Man who dies while hunting
Relqna—Shevonar’s mate
Ranokol—Shevonar’s brother
Brukeval—Jondalar’s distant cousin (part Clan)
Madroman—Formerly called Ladroman, acolyte of Fifth Cave
Laramar—Man who makes barma
Tremeda—Laramar’s mate
Bologan—son of Tremeda, eldest, twelve
Lanoga—daughter of Tremeda, ten
Lorala—daughter of Tremeda, about six months
Stelona—Older woman who nurses Lorala
Thefona—Third Cave’s best lookout, best vision
Thevola—Maker of rawhide panels
Lanidar—Boy of the Nineteenth Cave with
deformed right arm, twelve
Mardena—Lanidar’s mother
Denoda—Mardena’s mother
Janida—Peridal’s mate
Peridal—Janida’s mate
Matagan—Young man who was gored by a woolly rhinoceros
Tishona—Marsheval’s mate
Marsheval—Tishona’s mate
Palidar—Tivonan’s friend
Whinney—Ayla’s horse, dun-yellow mare, Przwalski horse
Racer—Jondalar’s horse, bay (brown) stallion, Cherski horse (rare)
Wolf—Ayla’s wolf
LEADERS
Manvelar—Leader of Third Cave, Two Rivers Rock
Morizan—Son of Manvelar’s mate, son of his hearth
Kareja—Leader of Eleventh Cave, River Place
Dorova—Kareja’s mother
Brameval—Leader of Fourteenth Cave, Little Valley
Kimeran—Leader of Second Cave of the Zelandonii, Elder Hearth, brother of Zelandoni of the Second Cave, uncle of Jondecam
Denanna—Leader of the three holdings of the Twenty-ninth Cave, Three Rocks, and specifically of the South Holding, Reflection Rock
Tormaden—Leader of the Nineteenth Cave of the Zelandonii
ZELANDONIA
Zelandoni—of the Eleventh Cave, River Place, homosexual man
Marolan—man who is the Eleventh’s friend and mate
Zelandoni—of the Third Cave, Two Rivers Rock, older man
Zelandoni—of the Fourteenth Cave, Little Valley, middle-aged woman
Zelandoni—of the Second Cave, Elder Hearth, older sister of Kimeran, mother of Jondecam
Zelandoni—of the Seventh Cave, Horsehead Rock, white-haired grandfather of Zelandoni Second, and Kimeran
Zelandoni—of the Nineteenth Cave, white-haired older woman
Zelandoni—of the Fifth Cave, Old Valley, middle-aged man
Zelandoni—of the Twenty-ninth Cave, Three Rocks, and mediator between the three assistant zelandonia and three leaders of the three separate locations of the Twenty-ninth Cave
Assistant Zelandoni of the Twenty-ninth Cave, Zelandoni of Reflection Rock (South Holding), middle-aged man
Assistant Zelandoni of the Twenty-ninth Cave, Zelandoni of South Face (North Holding), young man
Assistant Zelandoni of the Twenty-ninth Cave. Zelandoni of Summer Camp (West Holding), middle-aged woman
First Acolyte of the Second Cave (almost Zelandoni), young woman
Jonokol—First Acolyte of the Ninth Cave, artist, young man
Mikolan—Second Acolyte of the Fourteenth Cave, very young man
Mejera—Acolyte of the Third Cave (formerly Fourteenth Cave), very young woman
Madroman—Acolyte of the Fifth Cave (formerly Ladroman of the Ninth Cave), young man
FIRST CAVE OF THE LANZADONII (DALANAR’S CAVE)
Dalanar—Man of Jondalar’s hearth, Marthona’s former mate, founder of the Lanzadonii
Jerika—Dalanar’s mate, co-founder of Lanzadonii
Ahnlay/d—Jerika’s mother, died
Hochaman—Man of Jerika’s hearth—Great Traveler
Joplaya—Jerika’s daughter, daughter of Dalanar’s hearth
Echozar—Joplaya’s half-Clan mate
Andovan/d—Man who helped raise Echozar
Yoma/d—Echozar’s mother, Clan woman
Turn the page to read an exciting preview from Jean M. Auel’s latest novel—
The Land of Painted Caves
Available spring 2011 from Crown Publishers
1
The band of travelers walked along the path between the clear sparkling water of Grass River and the black-streaked white limestone cliff, following the trail that paralleled the right bank. They went single file around the bend where the stone wall jutted out closer to the water’s edge. Ahead a smaller path split off at an angle toward the crossing place, where the flowing water spread out and became shallower, bubbling around exposed rocks.
Before they reached the fork in the trail, a young woman near the front suddenly stopped, her eyes opening wide as she stood perfectly still, staring ahead. She pointed with her chin, not wanting to move. “Look! Over there!” she said in a hissing whisper of fear. “Lions!”
Joharran, the leader, lifted his arm, signaling the band to a halt. Just beyond the place where the trail diverged, they now saw pale-tawny cave lions moving around in the grass. The grass was such effective camouflage, however, that they might not have noticed them until they were much closer, if it hadn’t been for the sharp eyes of Thefona. The young woman from the Third Cave had exceptionally good vision, and though she was quite young, she was noted for her ability to see far and well. Her innate talent had been recognized early and they had begun training her when she was a small girl; she was their best lookout.
Near the back of the group, walking in front of three horses, Ayla and Jondalar looked up to see what was causing the delay. “I wonder why we’ve stopped,” Jondalar said, a familiar frown of worry wrinkling his forehead.
Ayla observed the leader and the people around him closely, and instinctively moved her hand to shield the warm bundle that she carried in the soft leather blanket tied to her chest. Jonayla had recently nursed and was sleeping, but moved slightly at her mother’s touch. Ayla had an uncanny ability to interpret meaning from body language, learned young when she lived with the Clan. She knew Joharran was alarmed and Thefona was frightened.
Ayla, too, had extraordinarily sharp vision. She could also pick up sounds above the range of normal hearing and feel the deep tones of those that were below. Her sense of smell and taste were also keen, but she had never compared herself with anyone, and didn’t realize how extraordinary her perceptions were. She was born with heightened acuity in all her senses, which no doubt contributed to her survival after losing her parents and everything she knew at five years. Her only training had come from herself. She had developed her natural abilities during the years she studied animals, chiefly carnivores, when she was teaching herself to hunt.
In the stillness, she discerned the faint but familiar rumblings of lions, detected their distinctive scent on a slight breeze, and noticed that several people in front of the group were gazing ahead. When she looked, she saw something move. Suddenly the cats hidden by the grass seemed to jump into clear focus. She could make out two young and three or four adult cave lions. As she started moving forward, she reached with one hand for her spear-thrower, fastened to a carrying loop on her belt, and with the other for a spear from the holder hanging on her back.
“Where are you going?” Jondalar asked.
She stopped. “There are lions up ahead just beyond the split in the trail,” she said under her breath.
Jondalar turned to look, and noticed movement that he interpreted as lions now that he knew what to look for. He reached for his weapons as well. “You should stay here with Jonayla. I’ll go.”
Ayla glanced down at her sleeping baby, then looked up at him. “You’re good with the spear-thrower, Jondalar, but there are at least two cubs and three grown lions, probably more. If the lions think the cubs are in danger and decide to attack, you’ll need help, someone to back you up, and you know I’m better than anyone, except you.”
His brow furrowed again as he paused to think, looking at her. Then he nodded. “All right … but stay behind me.” He detected movement out of the corner of his eye and glanced back. “What about the horses?”
“They know lions are near. Look at them,” Ayla said.
Jondalar looked. All three horses, including the new young filly, were staring ahead, obviously aware of the huge felines. Jondalar frowned again. “Will they be all right? Especially little Gray?”
“They know to stay out of the way of those lions, but I don’t see Wolf,” Ayla said. “I’d better whistle for him.”
“You don’t have to,” Jondalar said, pointing in a different direction. “He must sense something, too. Look at him coming.”
Ayla turned and saw a wol
f racing toward her. The canine was a magnificent animal, larger than most, but an injury from a fight with other wolves that left him with a bent ear gave him a rakish look. She made the special signal that she used when they hunted together. He knew it meant to stay near and pay close attention to her. They ducked around people as they hurried toward the front, trying not to cause any undo commotion, and to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Joharran said softly when he saw his brother and Ayla with the wolf quietly appear with their spear-throwers in hand.
“Do you know how many there are?” Ayla asked.
“More than I thought,” Thefona said, trying to seem calm and not let her fear show. “When I first saw them, I thought there were maybe three or four, but they are moving around in the grass, and now I think there may be ten or more. It’s a big pride.”
“And they are feeling confident,” Joharran said.
“How do you know that?” Thefona asked.
“They’re ignoring us.”
Jondalar knew his mate was very familiar with the huge felines. “Ayla knows cave lions,” he said, “Perhaps we should ask her what she thinks.” Joharran nodded in her direction, asking the question silently.
“Joharran is right. They know we’re here. And they know how many they are and how many we are,” Ayla said, then added, “they may see us as something like a herd of horses or aurochs and think they may be able to single out a weak one. I think they are new to this region.”
“What makes you think so?” Joharran said. He was always surprised at Ayla’s wealth of knowledge of four-legged hunters, but for some reason it was also at times like this that he noticed her unusual accent more.
“They don’t know us, that’s why they’re so confident,” Ayla continued. “If they were a resident pride that lived around people and had been chased or hunted a few times, I don’t think they would be so unconcerned.”
“Well, maybe we should give them something to be concerned about,” Jondalar said.
Joharran’s brow wrinkled in a way that was so much like his taller though younger brother’s, it made Ayla want to smile, but it usually showed at a time when smiling would be inappropriate. “Perhaps it would be wiser just to avoid them,” the dark-haired leader said.