The Shelters of Stone

by Jean M. Auel

  Winters in the land where Jondalar’s people lived were cold, but not dry. Their main feature was snow, heavy, air-choking, high-drifting snow. She hadn’t seen so much snow since she lived with the Clan. She had become more used to the dry, frozen loess steppes that leached moisture from the atmosphere, farther inland around her valley and the territory of the Mammoth Hunters. Here, where the climate was subject to the maritime influences of the Great Waters of the West, the landscape was known as continental steppes. Winter was wetter and snowier, resembling somewhat the climate of the place where she grew up, the mountainous tip of a peninsula jutting into an inland sea far to the east.

  The heavy snow piled up on the front ledge filled the lower half of the opening under the overhang with a solid barrier of soft snow that gleamed at night in the golden reflection of the fires inside the abri. Now Ayla knew why stout logs were used to support the many crosspieces covered with hides for the protected passageway leading to the exterior enclosure that was used instead of the trenches for wastes during the winter.

  The second morning after the snow began, Ayla woke to the smiling face of Jondalar standing beside the sleeping platform, shaking her gently His cheelçs were red with cold, and his heavy outer clothing still bore traces of unmelted snow. He had a hot cup of tea in his hand.

  “Come on, sleepy, get up. I remember when you used to be up long before me. There’s still some food left. The snow has stopped. Dress warmly and come outside,” he said. “Maybe you should wear those undergarments you got from Marona and friends.”

  “Have you been out already?” she asked, sitting up and taking a drink of the hot tea. “I do seem to need more sleep lately.” Jondalar waited while she freshened up, had a quick morning meal, and began to dress, trying to refrain from urging her too much.

  “Jondalar, I can’t close these pants over my stomach. And that top will never fit. Are you sure you want me to wear this outfit? I don’t want to stretch them out.”

  “The pants are most important. It won’t matter if you can’t close them all the way. Do the best you can. You’ll be wearing your other clothes over them. Here are your boots. Where is your parka?” Jondalar said.

  As they headed out of the abri, Ayla could see the radiant blue sky and the glowing sunlight streaming down on the ledge. Several people had obviously been up early. The path down to Wood River had been cleared of the accumulation of snow, and limestone gravel from underneath the abri had been strewn on the downslope to make it less slippery. On either side the walls of snow were chest high, but as she looked out over the countryside, she caught her breath.

  The landscape was transformed. The glistening white blanket had softened the contours of the land, and the sky seemed even bluer in contrast with a white so brilliant, it hurt the eyes. It was cold; the snow crunched beneath her feet and her breath steamed. She saw several people on the flat flood-plain across The River.

  “Careful when you go down the path. It can be dangerous. Let me take your hand,” Jondalar said. They reached the bottom and crossed the small frozen river. Some of the people who saw them coming waved and started toward them.

  “I didn’t think you were ever going to get up, Ayla,” Folara said. “There’s a place we usually go every year, but it takes half the morning to get there. I asked Jondalar if we could take you, but he said it was too far for you right now. When the snow gets packed down a little more, we can build a seat on a sledge and take turns pulling you. Most of the time sledges are used to pull wood or meat or something. But when they’re not needed for that, we can use them.” She was filli of excitement.

  “Slow down, Folara,” Jondalar said.

  The snow was so deep that when Ayla tried to walk through it, she floundered, lost her balance, and grabbed for Jondalar, pulling him over with her. They both sat covered with snow, laughing so hard that they couldn’t get up. Folara was laughing, too.

  “Don’t just stand there,” Jondalar called out. “Come and help me get Ayla up.” Between them both, they got her back on her feet.

  A round white missile flew through the air and landed with a splat on Jondalar’s arm. After looking up and seeing Matagan laughing at him, Jondalar grabbed a handful of snow with both hands and began shaping it into a round ball. He heaved it toward the young man, whom he was considering taking on as an apprentice. Matagan ran away with a limp, but some speed, and the snowball fell short.

  “I think that’s enough for today,” Jondalar said.

  Ayla had a snowball hidden from view, and as Jondalar approached, she threw it at him. It landed on his chest and snow exploded into his face.

  “So you want to play games,” he said, picking up a handful of snow and trying to put it inside the back of her parka. She struggled to get away, and soon both were rolling around in the snow, laughing and trying to get snow into each other’s necks. When they finally sat up, they were both covered from head to foot with the wet white stuff.

  They went to the edge of the frozen river, crossed over, and climbed back to the ledge. They passed Marthona’s dwelling on the way to their own, and she had heard them coming.

  “Do you really think you should have taken Ayla out there and gotten her wet with snow in her condition, Jondalar?” his mother said. “What if she had fallen down and it started the baby coming early?”

  Jondalar looked stricken. He hadn’t thought about that.

  “It’s all right, Marthona,” Ayla said. “The snow was soft, and I didn’t hurt myself or overdo. And I never knew snow could be so much fun!” Her eyes were still sparkling with excitement. “Jondalar helped me down the path, and up again. I feel fine.”

  “But she’s right, Ayla,” Jondalar said, full of contrition. “You could have hurt yourself. I wasn’t thinking. I should have been more careful. You’re going to be a mother soon.”

  Jondalar was so solicitous after that, Ayla almost felt confined. He didn’t want her to leave the area of the abri or go down the path. She occasionally stood at the top and looked down rather wistfully, but after she grew so big that she could not see her own feet when she looked down, and found herself leaning back when she walked to compensate for the load in front, she had little desire to leave the security of the Ninth Cave’s shelter of stone for the cold ice and snow outside.

  She was happy to stay near a fire, often with friends, in her dwelling or theirs, or in the busy central work space under the protective roof of the massive overhang, busily making things for the coming baby. She was acutely conscious of the life growing within her. Her attention was turned inward, not exactly self-centered, but her area of interest had contracted to a smaller sphere.

  She visited with the horses every day, groomed and pampered them, and made sure they had adequate provisions and water. They were more inactive, too, although they did go down to The River, frozen solid, and across to the meadow beyond. Horses could dig down through snow to find fodder, though not as efficiently as reindeer, and their digestive systems were accustomed to rough feed: the straw of frozen yellow grass stems, bark from birch and other thin-skinned trees, and twigs of brush. But under the insulating snow near the dead-seeming stems of herbs, they often found the basal stems and beginning buds of new growth just waiting to start. The horses managed to find enough food to fill their stomachs, but the grains and grass Ayla provided kept them healthy.

  Wolf was out more than the horses. The season that was so hard on those that ate vegetation was often a boon to the meat-eaters. He roamed far, and sometimes was gone all day, but he always returned at night to sleep in the pile of Ayla’s old clothes. She moved his bed to the floor beside the sleeping platform and worried each evening until he returned, which sometimes was quite late. Some days he did not go at all, but stayed close to Ayla, resting or, to his great delight, playing with the children.

  The Cave’s leisure time during the relatively inactive winter months was filled with the pursuit of each person’s individual crafts. Though they sometimes went hunting, looking pa
rticularly for reindeer for their rich sources of fat stored even within the bones of the cold-adapted animal, there was sufficient food stored to sustain them and a more than adequate supply of wood to keep them warm, give them light, and cook their food. Throughout the year various materials they needed for their work were collected and saved for this time. It was the time to cure hides, work them soft, dye them for color, and burnish them for a shine or a waterproof finish, the time to fabricate clothes, then bead and embroider them. Belts and boots were fashioned, fastenings were made and often decorated with carvings. It was also the time to learn a new craft or perfect a skill.

  Ayla had been fascinated with the process of weaving. She watched and listened carefully when Marthona talked about it. The fibers from animals that shed in spring had been collected from thorny bushes or barren ground and saved until winter, when there was time to make things. A great many kinds of fibers were available, such as wool from mouflon, the great-horned wild sheep, and ibex, the mountain-climbing wild goat, which could be matted into felt. The warm downy underhair grown each fall close to the skin beneath the shaggy outer hair of several animals, including mammoths, rhinos, and musk oxen, were favorites because of their softness. The long, coarser hair from animals was a more permanent growth and collected only after they were killed, the outer hair of the woolly animals, for example, and the long horse tails. Fibers from plants of many varieties were also utilized. The fibers were made into cords, ropes, and fine threads, which could be left natural or dyed, then woven and made into clothing or mats, rugs, and wall hangings to keep out drafts and cover cold, rocky walls.

  Bowls were gouged out of wood, then shaped, polished, painted, and carved with designs. Baskets of all shapes and sizes were woven. Jewelry was made from shaped ivory beads, animal teeth, shells, and unique stones. Ivory, bone, antler, and horn were shaped and carved, and made into plates and platters, handles for knives, points for spears, needles for sewing, and many other tools, implements, and decorative objects. Animal figures were carved with loving attention to detail by themselves or to decorate other things that were made of anything carvable, wood or bone, ivory or stone. Female figurines, donii, were also carved. Even the walls of the abri were carved and painted.

  Winter was also the time to practice talents and to play. Musical instruments, especially interesting-sounding percussion instruments and melodic flutes, were crafted and played. Dances were practiced, songs sung, stories told. Certain more sedentary sports such as wrestling and target practice of various kinds were enjoyed by some, and gambling and wagering of all kinds were indulged by many.

  The young were taught certain necessary basic skills, and for those who had an inclination or showed an aptitude for some specialized activity, someone was always willing to show them. There was a well-worn path between the Ninth Cave and Down River, and many of the craftspeople who made the trek from their own homes to spend some time there often spent a few nights at the Ninth Cave.

  Zelandoni taught counting words to those who wished to know them, and the Histories and Legends of the people, but she was seldom with free time on her hands. People caught colds, had headaches, earaches, bellyaches, and toothaches; the aches and pains of arthritis and rheumatism were always more difficult during the cold season; and there were other serious diseases. Some people died, and their bodies were placed in cold front passages of certain caves in the winter, where they would keep until spring, since snow and frozen ground prevented burial in the outdoor graveyards. Sometimes, though rarely, they were left there.

  And some were born. The winter solstice had passed. Zelandoni had explained to Ayla the position where the sun set over the horizon was at its farthest left and stayed there for several days before the position of its setting moved imperceptibly back to the right. It had been the occasion for a feast, ceremony, and festival to mark the turning point and to add some excitement to the quiet days.

  The sun’s setting from that time on would continue to the right with each passing day until the summer solstice, when it reached its farthest right position and seemed to stay there for some days. The place midway between the two marked the equinoxes, the beginning of spring, and, on its way back, the beginning of autumn. Zelandoni pointed to a dip in the hills on the horizon that marked the midpoints. She had used countings words and marked a gouge on a flat piece of ander, and Ayla found the information fascinating. She liked to learn those kinds of things.

  In the deep of winter, the coldest, bitterest, harshest time of year, the snow no longer attracted playful excursions. Even short trips outside to get frozen meat or to bring in wood could be an ordeal. The cairn of rocks on top of caches and ice cellars often froze together, making it necessary to break them apart. The vegetables and fruits in root cellars had long since been transferred to stone-lined pits at the back of the abri, but it took a watchful eye and many snares and traps to keep the small animals from taking too large a share. Small rodents in particular survived quite well from the hard work of humans and always managed to share their cave.

  One of the games children played was to throw stones at the swift little creatures. It was encouraged by the adults. A hard-flung stone could kill one. Not only did it provide one more element in the continuing battle against the voracious pests, but it gave the children some experience in developing the accuracy they would need to become proficient hunters, and some of the youngsters developed quite an aim. Ayla began using her sling to that purpose and before long was teaching the children how to use her favorite weapon. Wolf also proved to be a valuable asset in keeping down the rodent population.

  The outside root cellars seemed to be freer of such vermin, and the food was stored in them as long as possible. But when the deep freeze of winter threatened to destroy the fresh quality, they were brought in. Once frozen, most vegetable foods were used only in cooking, as were most dried foods.

  Ayla had experienced a sudden surge of energy the past few days. She had become increasingly uncomfortable as she grew larger and was occasionally given to fits of crying and other emotional outbursts that dismayed Jondalar. The active baby sometimes woke her at night, and she found it difficult to get up gracefully from her normal cross-legged sitting position, and she had always been able to get up from the floor gracefully. As she neared her time, her fears of delivery had grown, but recently she was getting so anxious to have the baby, she was even willing to face the delivery.

  Zelandoni felt sure her time would be soon. She had told Ayla, “The Great Earth Mother, in Her wisdom, made the final days of pregnancy uncomfortable on purpose, so that women would be able to face their fear of delivery just to get it over with.”

  Ayla had finished straightening and rearranging everything for the baby, and then everything else in her home once again, and had decided to cook a special dinner for Jondalar when he came looking for her. She told him all the vegetables she wanted from her storage place at the back of the abri, and what meat she wanted. When he came back with everything, she hadn’t moved, and she had a strange expression on her face: a combination of joy and dread.

  “What is it, Ayla?” he said, dropping his basket of vegetables.

  “I think the baby is getting ready to be born,” she said.

  “Right now? Ayla, you better lie down. I’ll get Zelandoni. Maybe I better get mother, too. Don’t do anything until I get Zelandoni,” Jondalar said, suddenly nervous.

  “Not right now. Relax, Jondalar. It will be a while yet. Let’s wait before you get Zelandoni, to be sure,” she said, picking up the basket of vegetables. She went to her cooking area and started to take them out of the basket.

  “Let me do that. Shouldn’t you be resting? Are you sure you don’t want me to get Zelandoni?”

  “Jondalar, you’ve seen babies born before, haven’t you? You don’t have to be so worried.”

  “Who says I’m worried?” he said, trying to appear calm. She stood still and held her hand to her stomach. “Ayla, don’t you think I’d better go t
ell Zelandoni?” His forehead was pinched together with anxious worry.

  “All right, Jondalar. You can go tell her, but only if you promise to say it is just beginning. There’s no hurry,” she said.

  Jondalar dashed out. He came back almost dragging Zelandoni behind him.

  “I told you to tell her there was no hurry, Jondalar,” Ayla said, then looked at the donier. “I’m sorry he dragged you over here so soon. It’s barely started.”

  “I think it may be better if Jondalar went to visit Joharran for a while, and tell Proleva I may need her later. I’m not busy. I’ll stay and keep you company, Ayla. Do you have a little tea?” Zelandoni asked.

  “I can have some ready soon,” Ayla said. “I think Zelandoni’s right, Jondalar. Why don’t you go visit Joharran?”

  “On your way, you can stop off and tell Marthona, but don’t go dragging her back here,” Zelandoni said. Jondalar rushed out. “He stood there the whole time when Folara was born, as calm as you please. But it’s always different when it’s a man’s own mate.”

  Ayla stopped again, waiting for the contraction to pass, then she started to prepare some tea. Zelandoni watched her, noting how long she waited. Then she sat on a large stool that Ayla had made especially for Zelandoni’s visits, knowing she did not like to sit on the ground or on cushions if she could help it. Ayla had been using it herself recently.

  After they drank some tea and made some inconsequential conversation while Ayla had a few more contractions, Zelandoni suggested that she lie down so the donier could examine her. Ayla complied. Zelandoni waited for the next contraction and felt Ayla’s stomach.

  “It may not be too long after all,” the healer said.