The Land of Painted Caves by Jean M. Auel Read Free Book Online

get her so involved that she would voluntarily choose to devote more time to learning what she needed to know.
    “We should go, Ayla,” the First said. “I would like you to see the cave before we get too involved with meals and visiting and meeting people.”
    “Yes, we should,” Ayla said. “I left all three horses and Wolf with Jondalar, and we need to get them settled. I’m sure he has people he wants to see, too.”
    They walked toward the steep wall of limestone. The setting sun was shining directly on it and the small fire that had been built nearby was almost invisible in the bright sunlight. A dark hole was visible but not obvious. There were several torches propped against the wall and each of the Zelandonia lit one. Ayla followed the others into the dark hole, shivering as the darkness enveloped her. Inside the cavity in the rock cliff, the air suddenly felt cool and damp, but it wasn’t only the abrupt drop in temperature that chilled her. She hadn’t been there before and Ayla felt a touch of apprehension and trepidation when she entered an unfamiliar cave.
    The opening was not big, but high enough so that no one had to bend over or stoop to enter. She had lit a torch outside and held the light in her left hand high in front of her, reaching for the rough stone wall with her right to steady herself. The warm bundle that she carried close to her chest with the soft carrying blanket was still awake, and she moved her hand from the wall to pat the baby to quiet her. Jonayla probably notices the change in temperature too, Ayla thought, looking around as she moved inside. It was not a large cave but it was naturally divided into separate smaller areas.
    “It’s here in the next room,” said Zelandoni of the Second Cave. She was also a tall blond woman, though somewhat older than Ayla.
    The Zelandoni Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother stepped aside to let Ayla move in behind the woman who was leading them. “You go ahead. I’ve seen it before,” she said, shifting her considerable size out of the way.
    An older man stepped back with her. “I, too, have seen it before,” he said, “many times.” Ayla had noticed how much the old Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave resembled the woman who was leading the way. He was also tall, though a little stooped, and his hair was more white than blond.
    Zelandoni of the Second Cave held her torch up high to cast its light ahead; Ayla did the same. She thought she saw some indistinct images on some of the cave walls as they passed by, but since no one had stopped to point them out, she wasn’t sure. She heard someone begin to hum—a rich, lovely sound—and recognized the voice of her mentor, the Zelandoni Who Was First. Her voice echoed in the small stone chamber, but especially as they entered another room and turned a corner. As the Zelandonia held their torches up to highlight a wall, Ayla gasped.
    She wasn’t prepared for the sight in front of her. The profile of the head of a horse was carved so deeply into the limestone wall of the cave, it appeared to be growing out of it, and so realistically, it almost seemed alive. It was larger than life-size, or else it was a carving of a much larger animal than she had ever seen, but she knew horses and the proportions were perfect. The shape of the muzzle, the eye, the ear, the nose with its flaring nostril, the curve of the mouth and jaw, everything was exactly as it would be in real life. And in the flickering torchlight, it looked as if it were moving, breathing.
    She let out a sobbing burst of air; she had been holding her breath and didn’t realize it. “It’s a perfect horse, except it’s just the head!” Ayla said.
    “That’s why the Seventh Cave is called Horsehead Rock,” the old man said. He was just behind her.
    Ayla stared at the image, feeling a sense of awe and wonder, and reached out to touch the stone, not even questioning whether she should have. She was drawn to it. She