But now Crystal had work to do. Because she was small, she had to set down her lamps and scurry back to fetch more. This was why her father had brought her: to make his work easier. But of course he had known that she had been itching for years to get to see the fabulous caves, and never would be allowed in them once she became a woman. So he had made this one chance for her, giving her the experience of her life.
She made several trips, carrying two lamps each time. It was nervous work, because all she had for light was her father’s lamp at the end of the passage, and a lamp in the hall of bulls. Between them it got dark indeed. But she did her job without complaint, justifying her presence. Perhaps someone had said that she would panic and not be much help, and Scorch had stood up for her. She meant to justify his faith. So she made three extra trips, until there was a total of eight lamps.
When she was done, she rejoined her father and they moved on. Now she saw another panel of animals, mainly horses and bison. Then farther along there was a larger panel, with a herd of horses running back toward the entrance, and one great black cow going the opposite way. The horses were beautiful, and the cow magnificent. She was even sticking out her tongue!
But the cave had not yet ended. They went on into a narrowing, diminished passage. They had to stoop, and then to crawl on hands and knees, wriggling through crevices. Crystal had to go back to bring forward the collection of lamps, making several more trips.
At last they were in the farthest recess. Here, in a low cave, were pictures of cats. They were not as fancily drawn as the bison and horses, but that was understandable: there was hardly any room here to work. Nevertheless, the scenes were dynamic.
One showed a lion about to mount a lioness, to mate with her. Crystal of course knew all about mating, having seen her parents do it often enough. People did it from behind or face-to-face, depending on how friendly the woman felt. Animals always did it the unfriendly way. Indeed, the lioness’s ears were flattened and her mouth was snarling. But she was going to have to let him do it, if she didn’t want to get chomped. That was how it was, with animals, and she understood sometimes with people too.
Another scene showed several lions arguing about food or something. One was growling; the sound lines by its muzzle showed that. Its tail was switching in the air, and it was jetting urine, marking its territory. That was the way cats were, certainly!
But Crystal had a question as they left the lamps and started back. “Daddy—why?” she asked hesitantly.
“Why do we paint the pictures? It is for the hunt. Each time we get ready for a big hunt, we paint a picture of the animal we want to catch. That gives us power over it. Sometimes we want to be sure an animal can’t hunt us, so we paint it too. See those spears in the back of that lion above the mating pair? After a lion killed one of us, we painted it there, and riddled it with spears in the picture, and after that no lion has killed any more of us. They know we have stopped them with our picture.”
Crystal’s face brightened. So that was why! The cave was the secret to successful hunting! She knew it worked, because they had managed to kill all the kinds of animals shown in the pictures. It was certainly worth all the trouble.
Still, she had another question. “Sometimes several men go to the cave,” she said. “I know most of them aren’t painters or builders. So—”
“That is not for any woman to know,” he said gravely.
“But I’m not a woman,” she protested. “Not for another year or two, at least.”
He considered, and she knew he was teasing her again. “Will you promise to forget everything when you do become a woman?”
“Oh, yes!” she said eagerly, with her fingers crossed.
He pretended not to notice. “Then I will show you the secret place.”
He led her back to the chamber with the big black cow and beyond. Then he went to the side, and there was another passage. There was a knotted rope descending into the darkness. “There is the ceremonial chamber,” he said. “Can you climb well?”
“I think so.” The dark hole frightened her, but she was determined to learn everything she could, knowing that she would never have another chance.
He set the lamp in a kind of harness on the end of a second, lighter rope. “I will climb down. Then you lower the lamp to me. Carefully, so it doesn’t burn the cord! Then you will climb down into the light.”
She nodded, her mouth dry. She would have changed her mind, but lacked the courage to do that. So one fear canceled the other.
He took hold of the rope and swung on down, disappearing into the hole. After a time that seemed longer than she knew it was, he called back from the depth. “Now, Crystal.”
She lifted the cord and held the burning lamp over the edge. She let the rope slide slowly through her fingers. The light made changing shadows as it descended. It was as if ghostly spooks were trying to find their way out of the hole.
Then it steadied. “I have it,” Scorch called. “Now you come on down.”
She caught hold of the top knot on the heavy rope, as she had seen him do, and put her feet down. They found a lower knot, and then one lower still. She moved one hand down, and then the other. Then she clung tight and lowered her feet. It was awkward, because she wasn’t used to this, but she quickly found the next knot down. Knot by knot, she dropped into the hole, until she was amidst the light and saw the floor. She reached it and let go.
“This is where we hold our ceremony and make our offering, each hunt,” Scorch said, moving the light to show the nether region. “Here by the wounded bison.”
She saw the picture of the bison, its belly transfixed by a spear, its guts coming out. Before it was a crude sketch of a man; there was no mistaking it, because of the plain penis. This was a battle between man and bison.
Beyond the man was another figure, one she had not seen before: a woolly rhinoceros. Between them was a bird. On the opposite wall was the head of a horse. All around were cryptic markings.
“This is all I can tell you,” Scorch said. “Except that the cave does continue, but there are no more pictures, and we don’t try to go to its end. It isn’t safe. This is the only place we need.”
Crystal nodded. She had seen the ultimate secret of the cave. It was more than enough.
Then he held the lamp high while she climbed the rope back up. Her arms, already tired from the descent, got stiff with fatigue, but the horror of getting trapped in this hole drove her on, and she hauled herself up and over, panting. Now she urgently wanted to escape the cave, afraid that the ceiling would collapse on them, or that the river would come again and wash them into nowhere, or that the light would fail and they would lose their way and never find their way out. All these fears loomed, now that her curiosity was settled. Perhaps the spirits of the hole had found her and were harrying her, determined to punish her for spying on their secrets.
Then she drew up the thin rope with the lamp, almost burning her fingers in her nervousness. Her father climbed up, and her fear diminished; he had no concern. He was strong, and he knew the cave, and always had fire with him. He was male.
They came back to the chamber with the seven ibexes, and then to the hall of the bulls, where other men were working on what she now recognized as a ladder for the hole. How well she understood the need now!
At last they emerged to the blindly bright light of day. Scorch put his hand on her shoulder. “You did well, Crystal,” he said. Suddenly all her fears were forgotten and she felt wonderful.
Ember felt wonderful, too, hearing the story. She had known that her daughter, being insatiably curious about stones, had desperately wanted to see the secret cave while she could. She had urged her husband to take Crystal there. Once she had presented her case, he had understood, and then he had acted. He was a good man, once shown a proper course of action. So he had done it, giving the girl the complete tour on the pretext of needing assistance delivering new lamps, and it was evident that it had impressed her greatly. Crystal had see
n the secrets of the stone, and it had given her a new horizon.
Crystal finished her story, gave her father a hug, and came to join her mother. She was flushed and happy with her experience and her effort of narration. It was the first time she had told a story before the fire, and she knew she had done it well, once she got into it. All the children and most of the women had paid close attention, for the cave was a mystery to them too, being man’s business. It was as if they had all gone down into the amazing chambers, and seen the bulls and horses and cats, and then the deep hole where the lone rhino lurked. Now they all knew about the seven ibexes and the upside-down horse.
Ember put her arm around Crystal’s shoulders, hugging her. “You did well,” she agreed. Indeed, she was proud of her daughter for conquering her fear of the cave, and then of the audience by the fire. Crystal had grown doubly, this day.
Thus it is that we know of the paintings of ancient man, because those that were protected deep in the caves survived to modern times. There were a number of caves, and each had its particular style of art, and its periods of use or occupation. The cave described here is Lascaux, in south-central France; it is perhaps the most famous, but not unique. Thus we know that this was no fluke; Magdalenian man’s art flourished throughout, and surely appeared in many places other than cave walls. This one surviving evidence of it is the proof.
Storytelling too remains in our nature. We love stories, whether they are told around afire or come through a motion picture screen. Given our choice, we would spend more of our time absorbing stories than we would doing anything else—which is why television is so popular. Stories are relaxing exercise for the mind, entertaining us while reinforcing our human nature. Perhaps the simplest definition of mankind is that he is the storytelling animal.
CHAPTER 9
* * *
CAT
There have been claims that man colonized North and South America as early as 40,000 years ago. The expanding polar caps of the ice age took up so much water that the sea was anywhere up to four hundred feet below its current level, and as with the Sahul and Australia, the Bering land bridge made it possible to cross from Siberia to Alaska by foot almost anytime between 100,000 and 10,000 years ago. But it seems unlikely, not only because the archaeological evidence is scant and questionable, but because there was no evidence that eastern Siberia itself was inhabited that early. How could mankind reach America before he reached the broad region he had to cross to get there? If anyone came then, it was more likely to be Homo erectus—and there’s no credible evidence for that, either. So the more recent period of 15,000 to 12,000 years ago seems to be it, because we have plenty of evidence for that. Perhaps the record will change with future discoveries.
It seems to have started with a tiny population breaking through the retreating barrier of the glaciers and passing from Alaska through western Canada to the United States and points south. These few tribes, encountering what seemed like unlimited resources, expanded rapidly to fill both continents. They hunted the biggest game animals, by preference, such as the mastodon and mammoth, until they were extinct, then went on to the next largest species. There seemed to be plenty to go around, at first.
THE People were moving to new territory, because the hunting had turned bad where they were. But they needed food while they traveled, too. Bunny and their daughters were out gathering. Meanwhile Blaze took Stone out on a hunt for small game. There should be rabbits or prairie chickens in the brush, if they got far enough out from the camp and were quiet. At eleven, Stone was big enough to start thinking about doing for himself, mastering the manly arts, so that he could become ready for marriage. So this time the boy was leading the way, and he would have the first throw of the spear.
It was in fact a kind of a contest, to see whether the men of the family could bring in more food than the women. Bunny and the girls almost always found something, but Blaze and Stone hoped to find more and better. Meat was always better than nuts and berries or boiled roots.
But there were few signs of significant life. They moved swiftly through mixed pines and oaks and open terrain until noon, spying only small flying birds, lizards, and insects. It was as if the game had been warned about their approach, and moved elsewhere. More likely there had simply been too many people passing this way, leaving the smell. The animals were learning caution, and the mere whiff of man could send them quickly away.
Stone was getting impatient. That wasn’t good; hunting was mostly patience. They might have done better to have stopped an hour ago, climbed a tree, and waited to see if any animals came by. Rabbits were plentiful, and generally came out to forage as soon as they thought it safe. But this was a learning experience for the boy—and possibly they would after all find something. One could never tell, on a hunt. That was part of the thrill of it: the gamble against the unknown. Certainly Blaze was not going to say he would have preferred to remain at the camp and keep the fire. They wouldn’t need a fire unless there was meat to roast.
The forest thinned, then cleared, and an extended open, level area appeared. And there within it was a small herd of animals grazing. They had looked for small game—and found big game instead!
Stone looked at him. Blaze nodded. “You were right, son; this is a major discovery. Can you identify the animals?”
The boy squinted against the brightness of the day here. “I think— camels.”
“Camels. Not our favorite prey, but quite good enough. There’s a lot of meat on each animal. So what is our best course now?”
Stone considered. “Camels are too big for just one or two men to bring down. We need to bring the tribe.”
Blaze rubbed the scar on his forehead, pretending to be perplexed. “But what of your practice kill?”
“It must wait, for the good of the tribe.”
He had answered correctly. “Then how should we proceed?”
“If we both go back for the tribe, the camels will be gone by the time we return in force. So one of us must stay here to watch them while the other goes back. Then if the herd moves, he can stay with them, and leave signs for the tribe to follow, and we will still get the camels.”
Right again. The boy was shaping up well. “Then which of us will go?”
The boy considered longer this time. Blaze knew why. Stone relished neither the notion of returning from half a day’s trek alone, nor remaining out here in the wilds alone. He had undertaken this hunt with his father, expecting at least to have the company and support in case he blundered and needed to be extricated. Either role would deprive him of that competent backup. This was not mere juvenile foolishness; there were dangers in the field, making pair hunting advisable. He had a man’s decision to make.
“I will go back,” he decided. “I am younger, and maybe can move more quickly.” Then, realizing that this might not be diplomatic, considering his father’s age of thirty-two, he added: “And you can better handle the herd, if it starts to move, perhaps turning it back toward the tribe.”
“I agree,” Blaze said, smiling. He did feel better about remaining out here himself, instead of trusting his son not to panic. “I will wait, and try to turn the herd, if it moves. I will delay taking other action, in the hope that you will return in time to make your practice kill.”
“I will go now,” Stone said appreciatively. “I will run, and be there well before nightfall. But they may not come until morning.”
“Unless we are lucky, and you meet hunters partway back,” Blaze agreed. “I will make a fire if I need to. But don’t run too long; alternate with walking, to keep your strength, and pause if you suspect any danger. Safety is better than haste.”
“I will move safely,” the boy agreed. Then he was off, running lightly on his young feet.
Blaze smiled, watching him go. This was another test of manhood, perhaps as good as spearing a rabbit. They had come a long way, and would have been tired by day’s end, just walking. Running would hasten fatigue. But worse than that would be the fa
ct that Stone was alone. It took courage to be alone, until a person became sure of his powers.
He walked on around the edge of the clear region, seeking the cover of trees, watching the camels. He did not know a lot about this particular animal, except that it had once been more common and hunted more widely. It was a stroke of luck to find even a small herd here. It was odd how the populations of animals changed. Perhaps the herds traveled to new regions, in the way that mankind did.
His foot caught on something, and he stumbled and fell flat on the ground. His first concern was whether he had spooked the herd by his carelessness. Only when he saw that he hadn’t did he check himself. He had not been hurt. He had seriously injured himself some years ago, because of carelessness, and had taken several days to get back to the tribe. In fact he had survived only because of the sufferance of members of a normally hostile foreign tribe. He did not want to repeat that experience.
He continued circling, until at last he was beyond the herd. Now he saw that there was a neck of open land passing between forested hills. That avenue led to a much larger grassy plain beyond. If the camels entered that, it would be impossible to catch them. But it should be easy to prevent it, because they had to go through this narrow section, and he could spook them back if he needed to.
But already they were moving this way, with what looked like an ungainly stride. They were long-legged, scoop-necked beasts, each with a single hump on its back. But perhaps their aspect was no stranger than the monstrous mammoths, with their noses stretching right down to the ground.
He had to stop them. So he ran out into the center of the avenue, crying out and waving his hands. He was smaller than they were, but it was the nature of grazing beasts to flee anything they did not understand. He wanted to make them turn and run toward the camp of the People, or at least mill about and remain in the smaller field.
But the camels did not react in the manner of deer or horses. They did not turn; instead they veered slightly and ran faster. They were trying to get around Blaze and escape to the larger plain. It was as if they knew that they were better off defying his bluff than remaining in the smaller field.
Isle of Woman (Geodyssey) Page 12
