The Land of Painted Caves by Jean M. Auel Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jean M. Auel
held her hand on the side of the jaw, just where she would have touched a living horse, and after a time the cold stone seemed to warm as though it wanted to be alive and come out of the stone wall. She took her hand away, and then put it back. The rock surface still held some warmth, but then it cooled again, and she realized that the First had continued to hum while she touched the stone, but had stopped when she let go.
“Who made it?” Ayla asked.
“No one knows,” said the First. She had come in after Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave. “It was made so long ago, no one remembers. One of the Ancients, of course, but we have no legend or history to tell us who.”
“Perhaps the same carver who made The Mother of Elder Hearth,” said the Zelandoni of the Second Cave.
“What makes you think so?” asked the old man. “They are entirely different images. One is a woman holding a bison horn in her hand; the other is the head of a horse.”
“I have studied both carvings. There seems to be a similarity of technique,” she said. “Notice how carefully the nose and the mouth, and the shape of the jaw of this horse are made? When you go there, look at the hips on the Mother, the shape of the belly. I’ve seen women who look just like that, especially those who have had children. Like this horse, the carving of the woman that represents Doni in the cave at Elder Hearth is very true to life.”
“That’s very perceptive,” said the One Who Was First. “When we go to Elder Hearth, we’ll do as you suggest, and look closely.” They stood quietly, staring at the horse for a while; then the First said, “We should go. There are some other things in here, but we can look at them later. I wanted Ayla to see the Horsehead before we got involved with visiting and such.”
“I’m glad you did,” Ayla said. “I didn’t know carvings in stone could look so real.”
3
“T here you are!” Kimeran said, getting up from a stone seat on the ledge in front of the shelter of the Seventh Cave to greet Ayla and Jondalar, who had just climbed up the path. Wolf followed behind them and Jonayla was awake and propped up on Ayla’s hip. “We knew you had come, and then no one knew where you were.”
Jondalar’s old friend, Kimeran, the leader of Elder Hearth, the Second Cave of the Zelandonii, had been waiting for him. The very tall light-haired man bore a superficial resemblance to six-foot-six-inch Jondalar with his pale yellow hair. Though many men were tall—over six feet—both Jondalar and Kimeran had towered over their other age-mates at their puberty rites. They were drawn to each other and quickly became friends. Kimeran was also the brother of the Zelandoni of the Second Cave, and the uncle of Jondecam but more like a brother. His sister was quite a bit older, and she had raised him after their mother died, along with her own son and daughter. Her mate had also passed on to the next world, and not long afterward she began training for the zelandonia.
“The First wanted Ayla to see your Horsehead, and then we needed to get our horses settled,” Jondalar said.
“They are going to love your field. The grass is so green and rich,” Ayla added.
“We call it Sweet Valley. The Little Grass River runs through the middle of it, and the floodplain has widened into a large field. It can get marshy in spring from snowmelt, and when the rains come in fall, but in summer when everything else is dried out, that field stays fresh and green,” Kimeran said, as they continued walking toward the living space beneath the overhanging upper shelf. “It attracts a nice procession of grazers through here all summer long and makes hunting easy. Either the Second or the Seventh Cave always has someone watching.”
They approached more people. “You remember Sergenor, the leader of the Seventh Cave, don’t you?” Kimeran said to the visiting couple, indicating a middle-aged dark-haired man who had been standing back eyeing
“Who made it?” Ayla asked.
“No one knows,” said the First. She had come in after Zelandoni of the Seventh Cave. “It was made so long ago, no one remembers. One of the Ancients, of course, but we have no legend or history to tell us who.”
“Perhaps the same carver who made The Mother of Elder Hearth,” said the Zelandoni of the Second Cave.
“What makes you think so?” asked the old man. “They are entirely different images. One is a woman holding a bison horn in her hand; the other is the head of a horse.”
“I have studied both carvings. There seems to be a similarity of technique,” she said. “Notice how carefully the nose and the mouth, and the shape of the jaw of this horse are made? When you go there, look at the hips on the Mother, the shape of the belly. I’ve seen women who look just like that, especially those who have had children. Like this horse, the carving of the woman that represents Doni in the cave at Elder Hearth is very true to life.”
“That’s very perceptive,” said the One Who Was First. “When we go to Elder Hearth, we’ll do as you suggest, and look closely.” They stood quietly, staring at the horse for a while; then the First said, “We should go. There are some other things in here, but we can look at them later. I wanted Ayla to see the Horsehead before we got involved with visiting and such.”
“I’m glad you did,” Ayla said. “I didn’t know carvings in stone could look so real.”
3
“T here you are!” Kimeran said, getting up from a stone seat on the ledge in front of the shelter of the Seventh Cave to greet Ayla and Jondalar, who had just climbed up the path. Wolf followed behind them and Jonayla was awake and propped up on Ayla’s hip. “We knew you had come, and then no one knew where you were.”
Jondalar’s old friend, Kimeran, the leader of Elder Hearth, the Second Cave of the Zelandonii, had been waiting for him. The very tall light-haired man bore a superficial resemblance to six-foot-six-inch Jondalar with his pale yellow hair. Though many men were tall—over six feet—both Jondalar and Kimeran had towered over their other age-mates at their puberty rites. They were drawn to each other and quickly became friends. Kimeran was also the brother of the Zelandoni of the Second Cave, and the uncle of Jondecam but more like a brother. His sister was quite a bit older, and she had raised him after their mother died, along with her own son and daughter. Her mate had also passed on to the next world, and not long afterward she began training for the zelandonia.
“The First wanted Ayla to see your Horsehead, and then we needed to get our horses settled,” Jondalar said.
“They are going to love your field. The grass is so green and rich,” Ayla added.
“We call it Sweet Valley. The Little Grass River runs through the middle of it, and the floodplain has widened into a large field. It can get marshy in spring from snowmelt, and when the rains come in fall, but in summer when everything else is dried out, that field stays fresh and green,” Kimeran said, as they continued walking toward the living space beneath the overhanging upper shelf. “It attracts a nice procession of grazers through here all summer long and makes hunting easy. Either the Second or the Seventh Cave always has someone watching.”
They approached more people. “You remember Sergenor, the leader of the Seventh Cave, don’t you?” Kimeran said to the visiting couple, indicating a middle-aged dark-haired man who had been standing back eyeing