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The Shelters of Stone

Page 51

by Jean M. Auel


  “And you said I had interesting stories to tell, Willamar,” Jondalar said. “Fish that breathe air and stand on their tails on top of the water. It almost makes me want to go with you.”

  “Maybe next year when I go to trade for salt, you can come. It’s not such a long Journey, especially compared to the one you made,” Willamar said.

  “I thought you said you didn’t want to travel again, Jondalar,” Marthona said, “and here you are, home only a short time and planning another trip. Have you developed a traveling urge? Like Willamar?”

  “Well, trading missions aren’t exactly Journeys,” Jondalar said, “and I’m not ready to make a trip now, except to the Summer Meeting, but a year is a long way off.”

  Folara and Jaradal, curled up with Wolf on Folara’s bed, tried to stay awake. They didn’t want to miss anything, but with the wolf between them, listening to the stories and the soft buzz of conversation, they both fell asleep.

  The next day dawned with a gray drizzle, but the summer shower didn’t dampen the enthusiasm of the Cave for the impending trek. Despite staying up late the night before, the members of Marthona’s household were up early. They made a morning meal of the food they had set out the night before and then finished packing. The rain eased up, and the sun tried to burn off the clouds, but moisture from the night’s accumulation on leaves and in puddles made the air foggy, cool, and damp.

  When everyone who was going had gathered on the front terrace, they started out. With Joharran leading the way, they headed north, walking down from the stone front porch to Wood River Valley. It was a large party, much larger, Ayla observed, than the group from the Lion Camp when they went to the Mamutoi Summer Meeting. There were still many people Ayla did not know very well, but by now she at least knew almost everyone’s name.

  Ayla was curious which way Joharran would go. From the ride they took on the horses, she knew that when they started, the floodplain valley on the right bank of The River—the Ninth Cave side—was broad. If they headed upstream along The River in its meandering but generally northeast direction, trees would be close to the water, and a wide expanse of grassy field separated The River from the highlands on both sides, and climbed up to the highlands in a gradual slope. However, after a short distance, water hugged steep cliffs on the other side, the left bank, which was on the right-hand side as one traveled toward the source. “Left bank” and “right bank” were terms that always referred to the sides of rivers when going downstream in the direction of the flowing current. They were traveling upstream.

  Jondalar had told her that the next closest community of Zelandonii was only a few miles away, but that they would need a raft to complete the trip if they stayed close to The River because the course of the waterway changed. Farther upstream it curved in a more northerly direction, and the lay of the land forced the water to the wall of the cliff on the right bank, their side, with no space for even a narrow path after it turned north, and finally east again before the next abri was reached. The people of the Ninth Cave usually took an overland route to visit their nearest northern neighbors.

  The leader turned up the path beside the Wood River tributary to the shallow crossing, then cut directly across Wood River Valley. Ayla noticed that they were not following the route she and Jondalar had taken with the horses shortly after they arrived. Instead of cutting across to the narrow valley with the steep, dry streambed, Joharran took a trail that was parallel to The River, leading to the flat lowlands of the right bank. They turned left through grass and brush and started up the gradual slope, then switchbacked in a zigzag up the face of the highland.

  Ayla kept track of Wolf out of the corner of her eye as he ran ahead, following his nose. She recognized most of the plants she saw and registered in her mind their uses and where they were growing. There’s a stand of black birch over there by The River, she thought, the bark can help prevent miscarriage, and here’s some sweet rush, which can cause one. And it’s always good to know where willow grows; a decoction of the bark is so good for headaches, and the aching bones of the elderly, and other pains. I didn’t know there was marjoram around here. It makes a nice tea, adds a good flavor to meat, and it’s good for headaches, too, and helps a baby’s colic. I’ll have to remember this for later. Durc didn’t suffer from colic much, but some babies do.

  The trail steepened as they reached the sharper incline near the top, then opened out to the high level field. When they reached the windy plateau, she walked a ways ahead to the edge, then stopped to rest and wait for Jondalar, who was having a little trouble leading Racer and his travois up the steep, rocky path with the abrupt turns. Whinney cropped a few blades of fresh grass while they waited. Ayla adjusted the mare’s pole drag and checked the load she carried in panniers and on her back, then stroked her and talked to her in the special horse language. Ayla looked down at The River and its floodplain, and the long line of people, young and old, straggling up the trail, then the view beyond.

  The elevated plateau offered an expansive panorama of the surrounding countryside, and a misty, illusionary scene below. A few wisps of fog were still tangled in the trees near the water, and a shroud of soft white concealed The River in places, but the veil was lifting, revealing shafts of light from the brilliant orb glinting from the surging stream. Across in the distance, the fog thickened and the limestone hills faded into a gray-white sky.

  When Jondalar arrived with Racer, they started across the high plateau together. Walking with the tall man with whom she had Journeyed for so long, with the wolf at her heels and the horses pulling the pole drags following close behind, Ayla was euphoric. She was with the ones she loved most and could hardly believe the man beside her would soon be her mate. She remembered only too well her feelings during the similar trek they had made with the Lion Camp. Then, she had felt that every step she took brought her closer to an inevitable destiny she did not want. She had promised to mate a man she truly cared for, and might have been happy with, if she hadn’t met and loved Jondalar first. But Jondalar had become distant, didn’t seem to love her anymore, and there was no doubt that Ranec not only loved her, but wanted her desperately.

  Ayla had no such adverse feelings now. She was so filled with happiness, she felt sure it overflowed and suffused the air around her, permeating the ground she walked upon. Jondalar was also remembering the trip to the Mamutoi Summer Meeting. The problem had been his jealousy and his fear of facing his people with a woman who might not be acceptable. He had resolved his problems and was no less full of joy than she. Then, he had been sure Ayla was lost to him for ever, but here she was beside him. and every time he looked at her, she looked back at him with eyes full of love.

  They followed the trail across the level highland that took them to another viewpoint at the cliff’s edge, where they had stopped when they were there alone. Before they crossed the small stream, they paused to watch the thin waterfall dropping over the edge into The River directly below. The people of the Cave had spread out across the high field, some making their own trail. The walkers took with them only what they could carry, though packs could be heavy and some planned to go back to get a second load, usually of items they wanted to trade.

  Ayla and Jondalar had talked to Joharran and offered to the Cave the hauling services of the two horses. The leader spoke to several people, but he decided to load up the horses with meat from the recent deer and bison hunts. When he originally planned the hunts, he had expected that several people would need to make an extra trip back to the Ninth Cave to bring the meat to the site of the Summer Meeting.

  Using the horses saved them the trouble, and for the first time he realized that trained horses could be more than a novelty. They could be useful. Even the help they had provided on the hunt, and Jondalar’s fast trip back to the Ninth Cave to tell Zelandoni and Shevonar’s mate about the tragic accident, had not given him the full awareness of their potential benefit. He understood better when he and several others were saved a trek back to t
he Ninth Cave, but with the horses traveling so close, he also became aware that the animals required extra work.

  Whinney was used to the pole drag, she had pulled a travois during most of their Journey. Racer was less accustomed to hauling a load and was more unmanageable. Joharran had seen that his brother had to work with the horse, especially turning on the trail where the poles restricted his movement. It required patience to keep the young stallion calm and lead him around obstacles while maintaining the load intact. At the Ninth Cave, Ayla and Jondalar had started out near the front of the group, but by the time they crossed the small stream and angled northwest again, they were closer to the middle.

  They reached the place where Ayla and Jondalar had turned back before, where the path began to descend. This time they followed it as it twisted and turned along the easiest grade, winding through brush, open grassland, and, in a protected dip, trees. They reached a rock shelter that was so close to the water, part of it extended over the water. They had traveled just under two miles in actual distance, though the steep climbs made the journey longer.

  The shelter had a front porch that was so close to the edge of The River, a person could dive into water from it. The shelter was called River Front and faced south. It extended from west to east all the way to a southward-turning meander of The River that swung back around on itself so close, it would have joined at the neck of the loop it formed if it hadn’t been for the finger of highland between. Though it appeared to be a habitable shelter, no Cave lived there, though travelers, especially those on rafts, sometimes stopped off. The water was a little too close, and it sometimes overflowed into the shelter when The River flooded.

  The Ninth Cave didn’t stop at River Front, but climbed back up the cliff behind the shelter. The trail continued north, then curved around toward the east. About a mile after leaving River Front, the trail headed down a fairly steep grade to the valley of a small stream that was usually dry in summer. After crossing the muddy streambed, Joharran stopped and everybody rested while he waited for Jondalar and Ayla. Several people made small fires to boil water for a hot tea. Some took out traveling food, especially those with children, and had a snack.

  “We need to make a choice here, Jondalar,” Joharran said. “Which way do you think we should go?”

  Because The River meandered through its valley, crowding close to cliff walls on first one side and then the other, it was sometimes easier to travel between Caves across the highlands. To reach the next site, however, there was another possibility.

  “From here there are two ways we can go,” Jondalar said. “If we follow this trail across the top of the cliffs, we’ll have to climb up this slope, go across the highland for about half the distance we’ve already come, then go down again until we come to another little stream. It usually has water, but it’s shallow and easy to cross. Then we have another steep climb that traverses the front of the cliff overlooking The River, then down again. The River runs through the middle of a large grassy field there, the floodplain. We’ll stop and visit with the Twenty-ninth Cave, probably overnight.”

  “But there’s another way to go,” Joharran said. “The Twenty-ninth Cave is called Three Rocks because they have three shelters, not right next to each other, but spaced around The River and the large floodplain. Two of them are on this side, the third is on the other side of The River.”

  Joharran pointed to the slope ahead. “Instead of climbing this, we can turn east to The River. It turns north ahead and you have to cross to the other side because the water runs right next to the cliffs on this side, but there’s a long, shallow stretch that’s easy to get across. And the Twenty-ninth Cave keeps stepping-stones there, as we do at the Crossing. We go along the other side for a while, then The River turns east again and crowds the cliffs on the other side, so you have to cross back over, but it spreads out and gets shallow again and that crossing also has stepping-stones. We can stop at two of the shelters on this side to visit, but we have to cross over again to get to the third and biggest one, because that is probably where we’ll stay, especially if it rains.”

  “If we go that way, we have to climb; if we go this way, we have to cross running water,” Jondalar finished for him. “What do you think would be the best way with the horses and the pole drags?”

  “It’s easy to cross rivers with the horses, but if it’s very deep, the meat on the pole drags can get wet, which means it could spoil if it’s not dried out again,” Ayla said. “On our Journey, we had the poles attached to the bowl boat, so it always floated up when we had to cross rivers. But didn’t you say we have to cross The River at least once anyway?”

  Jondalar walked behind Racer’s pole drag. “I was thinking, Joharran. If we can get a couple of people to walk back here behind the horses and lift up the ends of the poles just enough to keep them out of the water, I think we could get across without getting anything wet.”

  “I’m sure we could find people to do that. There are always a few young men who like to splash through the water whenever there’s a crossing anyway. I’ll go ask around,” Joharran said. “I think most people would rather not climb any more than they have to, with the loads they’re all carrying.”

  When Joharran left, Jondalar decided to check Racer’s lead rope. He stroked the horse, gave him some grain that he had in a pouch. Ayla smiled at him; she was paying attention to Wolf, who came to see why they stopped. She felt the special bond she and Jondalar had formed on their Journey. Then it occurred to her that they had another. They were the only people who understood the connection that could develop between a person and an animal.

  “There is another way to go upriver … well, two more,” Jondalar said while they were waiting. “One is to pole up by raft, but I don’t think that would work too well with the horses. The other is to go along the top of the cliffs on the other side of The River. You have to take the Crossing, and it’s actually easier to go all the way to the Third Cave and start from there. They have a good path to the top of Two Rivers Rock that continues as a trail across the highland. It’s more level than this side, only a few minor dips. There aren’t as many tributaries on that side of The River, but if you plan to stop at the Twenty-ninth Cave, you have to come down and cross The River again. That’s why Joharran decided to stay on this side.”

  While they rested, Ayla asked about the people they were going to visit. Jondalar described the unusual arrangement of the people of the Twenty-ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. Three Rocks consisted of three separate settlements of stone shelters in three separate cliffs that formed a triangle around the floodplain of the meandering river, all within a mile and a half of each other.

  “The Histories say that they used to be separate Caves, numbered with earlier counting words, and there were more than three,” Jondalar explained, “but they all had to share the same field and rivers, and they were always disputing rights, arguing about which Cave could use what, and when. I guess it got rather bitter, some men actually started fighting with each other. Then the Zelandoni of South Face got the idea to join together into one Cave, work together and share everything. If a herd of aurochs migrated through, it wouldn’t be the hunters of all the different Caves going after them separately, but one hunting party from all the Caves working together.”

  Ayla thought for a while. “But the Ninth Cave works together with the neighboring Caves. On that last hunt, the hunters from the Eleventh, the Fourteenth, the Third, the Second, and a few people from the Seventh all hunted together and everyone shared the food.”

  “That’s true, but all of our Caves don’t have to share everything,” Jondalar said. “The Ninth Cave has Wood River Valley, and animals sometimes move along The River right in front of the porch, the Fourteenth has Little Valley, the Eleventh can raft to a big field right across The River, the Third has Grass Valley, and the Second and Seventh share Sweet Valley—when we get back, we’ll go and visit them. We can all work together when we want, but we don’t have to. All the Caves t
hat joined to become the Twenty-ninth had to share the same hunting area. They now call it Three Rocks Valley, but it is a part of The River Valley and North River Valley.”

  He explained that The River took an eastward turn, cutting through the middle of the large grassy floodplain. It was joined on the north by a healthy tributary and its valley. Two of the settlements were on the right bank of The River, the one to the west that could be reached overland from River Front and another to the north. A third massive cliff with several stories òf rock shelters was to the south, across The River on the left bank. It was one of the few inhabited rock shelters with a north-facing front.

  The western settlement, or the West Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave of the Zelandonii, consisted of several small rock shelters in the side of a hill. Jondalar told her they also maintained a more or less permanent campsite of lean-tos, fireplaces, and drying racks and, in summer, tents and other temporary shelters near West Holding. It was at the opening of a sheltered valley of stone pines, whose pine-nut-filled cones were a source of vegetable oil so rich, it could be burned in lamps, though it was so delicious, it was seldom used for that purpose.

  People from the entire community of Three Rocks, and others that were invited to help in return for a share, gathered for the pine-nut harvest. That was the primary purpose for the outdoor camp, but it was also near a very good fishing spot that lent itself to fish traps and weirs. It was used quite often by the community all through the warmer part of the year and usually not closed down until the freeze stilled The River for the winter. Though people lived in the various rock shelters of West Holding all year and the nut harvest, which was the original reason the campsite was established, was in autumn, the first tents went up at the beginning of the warm season to work the fish traps, and everyone always talked about going to “summer camp.” The western settlement came to be known as Summer Camp.

 

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