The Shelters of Stone

by Jean M. Auel

  Ayla thought of the Clan, with their lives based on tradition, their reluctance to change, and their inability to cope with new ideas. “Yes, I know people like that,” she said. “But the people I’ve met recently seem to enjoy learning new things.”

  All the Others she had met seemed to adapt so easily to changes in their lives, to thrive on innovation. She hadn’t realized that there might be some who were not comfortable with a different way of doing things, who actually resisted it. It gave her a sudden insight, and she frowned at the thought. That could explain certain attitudes and incidents that had puzzled her, such as why some people seemed so unwilling to accept the idea that the Clan were people. Like that Zelandoni, the one from the Fourteenth Cave, who kept calling them animals. Even after Jondalar explained, she acted as if she didn’t believe him. I think she didn’t want to change her opinion.

  “It is true. Most people do like to learn a better or quicker way of doing something, but sometimes it depends upon how it is presented,” the First said. “For example, Jondalar has been away for a long time. He matured while he was gone and learned many new things, but the people he knows weren’t there to see it, so some of them still think of him the way he was when he left. Now he has returned and he’s eager to share what he’s learned and discovered, which is commendable, but he didn’t learn everything all at once. Even his new weapon, which is a valuable tool for hunting, takes practice to use. Those who have been successful and are comfortable with the weapons they know may not be willing to put forth the effort it will take to learn the new one, though I have no doubt it will be used by all hunters one day.”

  “Yes, the spear-thrower does take practice,” Ayla said. “We know it now, but in the beginning, we worked at it.”

  “And that is only one thing,” the donier continued, while she picked up a plate made from the shoulder bone of a deer and put some slices of meat on it. “What kind of meat is it?” she asked a woman who was standing nearby.

  “That’s mammoth. Some hunters from the Nineteenth Cave went north on a hunting trek and got a mammoth. They decided to share some. I understand they got a woolly rhinoceros, too.”

  “I haven’t had mammoth for a long time,” Zelandoni said. “I’m going to relish this.”

  “Have you tasted mammoth?” the woman asked Ayla.

  “Yes,” she said. “The Mamutoi, the people I lived with before, are known as mammoth hunters, although they hunted other animals, too. But it’s been some time since I’ve had any. I, too, will enjoy this.”

  Zelandoni thought about introducing Ayla to the woman, but once she started, there would be no end, and she still wanted to talk to her about a ceremony using the firestone. She turned back to Ayla while she added some round white roots, ground nuts, to her plate, and cooked greens, nettles, she thought, mixed with pieces of brown-capped, spongy, boletus mushroom.

  “Jondalar also brought you, and your animals, Ayla. You must know how astonishing that is. People have hunted horses, and observed them with other horses, but they have never seen horses behave as yours do. It is frightening, at first, to see those horses go where you want them to, or that this wolf will walk through a camp full of people and do what you tell him,” she said, specifically acknowledging Wolf for the first time, though she had certainly seen him. He yipped a small bark when she looked at him.

  It was a custom the wolf and the woman had developed that rather surprised Ayla. Zelandoni didn’t always acknowledge Wolf when she saw him, and he ignored her until she did, but when she did, he responded with a short yip. She seldom touched him, except for a pat on the head now and then, but on rare occasions, Wolf would take her hand in his teeth, never leaving any toothmarks. She always allowed it, saying only that they understood each other. It seemed to Ayla that they did, in their own way.

  “I know you say that anyone could do it, if one starts with a young animal, and that may be true, but people don’t know that. They can only see it as something not natural to this world, so it must come from another world, from the spirit world. I am frankly amazed at how well they have accepted the animals, but it is an uneasy acceptance. It will take rime. And now we want to show them something else you have brought that no one has seen before. People don’t know you yet, Ayla. I’m sure people will want to use the firestone, once they’ve seen how it works, but they may be afraid of it. I think it has to be seen as a Gift from the Mother, which can be done if it is first understood and accepted by the zelandonia, and presented with the proper ritual,” the donier said.

  The way she explained it seemed entirely logical, but in a quiet space in her own mind, it made Ayla realize how persuasive Zelandoni could be. “When you explain it like that, I understand,” Ayla said. “Of course I will show the zelandonia how the firestone works, and help you with whatever ritual you feel is necessary.”

  They joined Jondalar’s family and some of the people from the Ninth Cave who were sitting with a few people from other Caves. After the meal, Zelandoni took Ayla aside. “Can you leave the wolf outside the lodge for a while? I think it’s important to concentrate on the fire-making, and I’m afraid Wolf would be a distraction,” she said.

  “I’m sure Jondalar won’t mind keeping him,” Ayla said, turning to look at him. He nodded, and when she got up to leave, she told Wolf to stay with him, making hand signs as well, though they were not noticed by most people. The midday sun had been bright, which made the inside of the zelandonia lodge seem dark even though many lamps were lit. Her eyes adjusted quickly, but when the First stood up to begin speaking, the Zelandoni of the Fourteenth Cave objected.

  “Why is she here?” the Fourteenth said. “She may be a Zelandonii woman, but she is not zelandonia. She is an outsider and does not belong at this meeting.”

  24

  The One Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Mother repressed a sigh of frustration. She was not going to make any obvious display of her irritation and let the tall, thin Zelandoni of the Fourteenth Cave have the satisfaction of knowing how much she annoyed her. But the question brought frowns and disapproving looks from some of the other Zelandonia, and a smirk from the acolyte of the Fifth Cave with the missing front teeth.

  “You are right, Zelandoni of the Fourteenth,” the First said. “Outsiders, those who are not part of the zelandonia, are not usually invited to these meetings. This is a gathering of those who have had some experience with the world of the spirits, the ones who have been called, and the acolytes, who have shown promise and are in training. That’s why I have invited Ayla. You know that she is a healer. She was a great help to Shevonar, the man who was trampled when that bison bolted during the last community hunt,” the donier said.

  “Shevonar died, and I don’t know how much help she was, I didn’t examine him,” the Fourteenth said. “There are many who have some knowledge of certain medicinals. Almost everyone knows about willow bark and its ability to stop the pain of minor aches, for example.”

  “I assure you that she knows a great deal more than the uses of willow bark,” the One Who Was First said. “One of her names and des from her previous people is Daughter of the Mammoth Hearth. The Mammoth Hearth of the Mamutoi is the same as the zelandonia, they are Those Who Serve The Mother.”

  “Are you saying she’s a Zelandoni of the Mamutoi? Where is her tattoo?” The question was asked by an elderly woman with white hair and intelligent eyes.

  “Her tattoo, Zelandoni of the Nineteenth?” the large woman asked, and thought, what did the Nineteenth know that she didn’t? She was an experienced and reliable Zelandoni, who had learned a great deal in her long life. It was a shame she’d been having so much trouble with arthritis during the past years. The time was drawing near when she would not be able to walk to the Summer Meetings. If this meeting were not near the Nineteenth Cave, she might not have made it this year.

  “I know of the Mamutoi. Jerika of the Lanzadonii lived with them for a while when she was young and still traveling with her mother and the m
an of her hearth on their long Journey. One summer, many years ago, when she was pregnant with Joplaya, she was having some trouble and I attended her. She told me about the Mamutoi. Their doniers are also marked with tattoos on their faces, though not quite like ours, but if Ayla is the same as a Zelandoni, where is her tattoo?”

  “She was in training, but not fully trained when she left to come here with Jondalar. She is not the same as a Zelandoni, she is more like an acolyte, but with more knowledge of healing than most. In addition she was adopted to the Mammoth Hearth by the Mamut Who Was First, because he saw her potential,” the First said.

  “Are you sponsoring her to become an acolyte of the zelandonia?” the Nineteenth asked. Though they seldom spoke out, there were a few quiet murmurs from the acolytes in attendance.

  “Not at this time. I haven’t yet asked her if she wants to further her training,” the First said.

  Ayla felt a touch of consternation. Though she would not mind talking about healing with some of them, she had no desire to become a Zelandoni. She just wanted to mate with Jondalar and have children, and she noticed that few of the zelandonia had mates or children. It wasn’t that they couldn’t mate if they chose, but it seemed that there were so many other demands on their time and attention when they were in the service of the Great Earth Mother that they didn’t have time to be mothers themselves.

  “Then why is she here?” the Fourteenth asked. Her wispy gray hair had pulled loose from the small bun on the back of her head, more on one side than the other, giving her a careless, disheveled appearance. If someone were kind, they would tactfully suggest that she fix her hair before she went out, but the First wouldn’t dream of it. The contentious Zelandoni would take anything she said as criticism.

  “I asked her to come because I would like her to show you something that I think you will find very interesting.”

  “Is it about those animals she controls?” asked another donier.

  The First smiled. At least someone was willing to admit that Ayla had some unusual skills that might be worthy of the zelandonia. “No, Zelandoni of the South Holding of the Twenty-ninth Cave. That might be cause for another meeting, but this time, she has something else for you to see.” Though the South Holding Twenty-ninth was an assistant to the primary Zelandoni of the Twenty-ninth, it was only in terms of speaking for all of Three Rocks. He was a full-fledged Zelandoni in his own right, and the First knew him to be a good healer. He had the same right to speak out as any other donier.

  Ayla noticed that the One Who Was First addressed the members of the zelandonia by their full tides, which were sometimes quite long, since they included the counting words of their Caves, but sounded very formal and important. Then it occurred to her that the only way to differentiate among them was by the counting words. They had given up their personal names and were all “Zelandoni.” They had, she realized, exchanged their names for counting words.

  When she lived in her valley, she had scratched a mark on a stick every day she was there. By the time Jondalar arrived, she had a bundle of sticks full of marks. When he used the counting words to tally the cut marks and was then able to tell her how long she had lived in her valley, it had seemed to her magic that was so powerful, it was almost frightening. When he taught them to her, she had sensed that counting words were very important and highly valued by the Zelandonii. Now she realized that, at least among Those Who Served The Mother, they were more important than names, and their use by the zelandonia gave them the essence of those powerful symbols.

  The First beckoned to Jonokol. “First Acolyte of the Ninth Cave, will you use the sand I asked you to get and put out the fire? And First Acolyte of the Second Cave, will you put out all the lamps?”

  Ayla recognized the two acolytes the First had called upon for assistance. They had guided her when she visited the deep cave with the animals painted on the walls at Fountain Rocks. She heard comments and questions of curiosity from the assembled group who knew the First was setting them up for something dramatic. Most of the older, experienced ones were preparing themselves to be critical. They knew and understood the techniques and impact of dramatic presentations and were determined not to be easily deluded by tricks or misdirection.

  When all the fires had been put out, there was still enough light to see from the occasional beams of sunlight that filtered in here and there. The lodge was not completely dark. Ayla looked around and noticed light seeping in, particularly around the outline of the entrance, though it was closed, and around another less obvious access almost directly opposite it. Later, she thought, she might walk around the outside of the spacious zelandonia lodge to find out if she could see the second opening.

  The First knew the demonstration would be much more impressive at night when the dark was total, but that didn’t matter with the ones who were here. They would understand the possibilities immediately. “Would anyone like to come here and verify that the fire in this fireplace is completely out?” she said.

  The Fourteenth quickly volunteered. She patted the sand carefully and dug her fingers in at a few warm spots, then stood up to announce, “The sand is dry, warm in a few places, but the fire is out and there are no hot coals.”

  “Ayla, will you tell me what you need to start a fire?” the First said.

  “I have most of it here,” she said, taking out the fire-starting kit that she had used so often on her Journey, “but tinder is necessary; almost anything that catches fire quickly will work, fireweed fuzz, or rotted wood from an old stump, if it’s dry and especially if it’s pitchy, for example. Then it’s good to have some small kindling close by, and of course some larger pieces of wood.”

  There was a little buzz of noise, and the First picked up some words of irritation. They didn’t need a lesson in fire-making, they were saying. Everyone knew how to make a fire from the time they were small children. Good, she thought, feeling rather pleased. Let them grumble. They only think they know all there is to making fire.

  “Will you make a fire for us, Ayla?” the Zelandoni leader said.

  Ayla had fluffed up a small mound of fuzzy fireweed tops as tinder and had a piece of iron pyrite in her left hand and a flint striker in her right, but it wasn’t obvious. She struck the firestone, saw a good spark land in the fluff of fireweed, blew it into life, and added kindling. In less time than it took to explain it, she had a fire going.

  There were some involuntary oohs and “How did she do that?” comments, then the Zelandoni of the Third Cave said, “Can you do it again?”

  Ayla smiled at the Third. The older man had been so kind and supportive when she was trying to help Shevonar, she was pleased to see him. She moved over to another spot nearby and lit another fire beside the first one within the circle of stones that defined the fireplace, and then, without being asked, she lit a third.

  “All right, how does she do that?” a man asked the First. Ayla had not met him before.

  “Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave, since she is the one who discovered it, Ayla will explain her technique,” the First said.

  Ayla realized this was the Zelandoni of the Cave that had already left for the Summer Meeting when they’d stopped at Old Valley. He was a younger, middle-aged man with brown hair and a round face, which characterized his body as well. There was a round softness about him, and the fleshiness of his face tended to make his eyes look small, but she sensed a shrewd cleverness to him. He could see there might be some benefit to her fire-making technique and wasn’t too proud to ask. Then she recalled that the acolyte with the missing front teeth that Jondalar didn’t like and Wolf had threatened was also from the Fifth Cave.

  “First Acolyte of the Second, will you light the lamps again, and Ayla, would you demonstrate how you make fire to the zelandonia?” the large woman said, fighting to keep from gloating. She noticed that her acolyte, Jonokol, was grinning with delight. He loved to see his mentor outmaneuver the rest of the wise, canny, intelligent, strong-willed, and sometimes arrogant zeland
onia.

  “I use a firestone, like this, and strike it with a piece of flint.” She held out both her hands and showed the iron pyrite in one and the flint in the other.

  “I’ve seen those kinds of stones,” Zelandoni of the Fourteenth said, pointing to the hand that held the iron pyrite.

  “I hope you can remember where,” the First said. “We don’t know yet whether they are rare or plentiful.”

  “Where did you find stones like that?” the Fifth asked Ayla.

  “I found the first ones in a valley far to the east of here. Jondalar and I looked for more on our way here. They might not have been where we looked, but I didn’t find any until after we arrived here. A few days ago, I found a few near the Ninth Cave,” Ayla explained.

  “And you will show us how they work?” said a tall blond woman.

  “That’s what she came here to do, Zelandoni of the Second Cave,” the First said.

  Ayla knew she had not met the One Who Served The Mother from the Second Cave, but there was a familiarity about her. Then she remembered Jondalar’s friend Kimeran, the age-mate with whom he shared a superficial resemblance because of their height and hair color. He was the leader of the Second Cave, and though the woman looked a little older, Ayla could definitely see the resemblance. With the brother as leader and the sister as spiritual leader, the arrangement was reminiscent of the brother-sister leadership customs of the Mamutoi—she smiled at the memory—except with them the leadership was shared and Mamut was their spiritual leader.

  “I have only two firestones with me,” Ayla said, “but we have more at camp. If Jondalar is nearby, perhaps he can bring some so several people can try it at once.” The large woman nodded, and Ayla continued. “It’s not hard to do, but it takes a little practice to get the knack of it. First make sure you have some good tinder nearby. Then, if you strike them together right, you can draw a long-lived spark that you can blow into a flame.”