“No, I sleep in the first shelter, the other side of this one, near the bison,” he said. “I don’t think it is good for a Zelandoni to spend all his time with his acolytes. They need to be able to relax, away from the restraining eye of their mentor, and I have other things to do and people to see.”
As they walked back to the first part of the shelter, Ayla asked, “Do you know who made your images?”
The question caught him a little off guard. It was not a question usually asked by Zelandonii. The people were accustomed to their art; it had always been there, or they knew the ones who were currently making it, and no one had to ask.
“Not the engravings,” he said after pausing to think for a moment. “They were made by the Ancient Ones, but several of our paintings were made by the woman who first taught Jonokol, when she was younger. The one who was Zelandoni of the Second Cave before the one who is now. She was acknowledged as the finest artist of her time, and she was the one who saw the potential in Jonokol even when he was just a boy. She saw potential in one of our young artists too. She now walks the next world, I am sorry to say.”
“What about the carved horn?” Jondalar queried, indicating the phallus-shaped object, which he had also seen. “Who made that?”
“That was given to the Zelandoni before me, or perhaps the one before him,” the Fifth said. “Some like to have it around during Mother Festivals. I’m not sure, it may have been used as a way to explain the changes in a man’s organ. Or it may have been a part of First Rites, especially for girls who didn’t like men, or were afraid of them.”
Ayla tried not to show it in her expression, it wasn’t for her to say, but she thought it would be uncomfortable, perhaps even painful, to use a hard carved object rather than the warm manhood of a caring man, but then she was used to the tenderness of Jondalar. She glanced at him.
He caught her eye and the facial expression she tried to hide, and smiled reassuringly. He wondered if the Fifth was making up a story because he didn’t really know what the image meant. Jondalar was sure it had been symbolic of something at one time, probably having to do with a Mother Festival since it was an erect male organ, but that its exact meaning probably had been forgotten.
“We can go across the stream and visit our other Sacred Places. Some of us also live in them. I think you may find them interesting, as well,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave said.
They walked toward the small stream that divided the valley, and then upstream to where they had crossed before. There were two solid stepping-stones in the middle of the waterway, which they used to get to the other side; then they went back downstream toward the shelter in which they were staying. There were several abris on this side of the stream nestled into the slope of the valley that continued up to a high promontory that dominated the whole region, and served as a good lookout point. They walked to one that was about six hundred feet from where the spring-fed stream flowed into The River.
When they walked under the overhanging stone of the shelter, they were struck immediately by a frieze of five animals: two horses and three bison all facing right. The third figure in particular was a bison about three feet long, deeply incised into the stone wall. Its voluminous body was carved in such strong relief, it was almost a sculpture. Black coloration was used to accentuate the outline. Several other engravings covered the walls: cupules, lines, and animals, most not as deeply carved.
They were introduced to several of the people who were standing around watching them, looking rather proud. They were no doubt pleased to show off their stunning home, and Ayla didn’t blame them. It was very impressive. After she had carefully looked over the engravings, Ayla began to take in the rest of the shelter. It was obvious that quite a few people lived there, though there weren’t very many at the moment. Like all the rest of the Zelandonii, in summer people traveled; visiting, hunting, gathering, and collecting various other materials that they used to make things.
Ayla noticed an area that had been left recently by someone who was working with ivory, judging from the material scattered around. She looked more closely. There were pieces in different stages of production. The tusks first had been scored over and over again to detach rod-shaped sections, and several small rods were stacked together. A couple of rods had been divided into sections of pairs, which were then worked into two round segments attached together. The flattened piece between was pierced just above each round, then scored and cut through to create two beads, which then had to be smoothed into the final form, a rounded basket-shape.
A man and a woman, both middle aged, came and stood beside her as she was hunkered down to look closely; she wouldn’t dream of touching the beads. “These are remarkable—did you make them?” Ayla said.
They both smiled. “Yes, bead-making is my craft,” they said together, then laughed at their inadvertent timing.
Ayla asked how long it took to make the beads, and was told one person would be lucky to complete five or six beads from first light until the sun was high and they stopped for a midday meal. Enough beads for one necklace, depending upon how long it was, took anywhere from several days to a moon or two. They were extremely precious.
“It looks like a difficult craft. Just looking at the various steps it takes makes me appreciate my Matrimonial outfit even more. There are many ivory beads sewn on it,” Ayla said.
“We saw it!” the woman said. “It was beautiful. We went to see it afterward, when Marthona had laid it out on display. The ivory beads were expertly made, by a somewhat different process, I think. The hole seemed to go all the way through the bead, perhaps working from both sides. That is very difficult to do. If you don’t mind my asking, where did you get it?”
“I was a Mamutoi—they live far to the east—and the mate of the leader gave it to me; her name was Nezzie of the Lion Camp. Of course, that was when she thought I was going to mate the son of her brother’s mate. When I changed my mind and decided to leave with Jondalar, she told me to keep it for my mating with him. She was very fond of him, too.” Ayla explained.
“She must have been fond of him, and you,” the man said. He thought, but didn’t say, t
hat the outfit was not only beautiful, it was extremely valuable. To give so much to someone who would take it away meant she must have cared a great deal for the young woman. It made him better understand the status the foreign woman had been accorded, though she was not born a Zelandonii, as her speech certainly attested. “It is without doubt one of the most stunning outfits I have ever seen.”
The Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave added, “They also make beads and necklaces out of seashells from both the Great Western Waters and the Southern Sea, and they carve ivory pendants, and pierce teeth. People especially like to wear fox teeth and those special shiny eye-teeth of deer. Even people from other Caves want their work.”
“I grew up near a sea, far to the east,” Ayla said. “I’d like to see some of your shells.”
The couple—Ayla couldn’t decide if they were mates or sister and brother—brought out bags and containers from where they were stored, and poured them out for display, eager to show their riches. There were hundreds of shells, mostly small, globular mollusks like periwinkles or long shapes such as dentalia that could be sewn onto clothes or strung into necklaces. There were also some scallop shells, but for the most part, the shells were from creatures that were essentially inedible, which meant they had been collected for their decorative value alone, not as food, and from a great distance away. They had either traveled to both seashores themselves, or traded for them from someone who had. The amount of time invested in acquiring items solely for display meant that as a society, the Zelandonii were not living on the edge of survival; they had abundance. According to the customs and practices of their time, they were wealthy.
Both Jondalar and the First had come to see what had been brought out and displayed for Ayla. Though they had both been aware of the Fifth Cave’s status, partly because of their jewelry-makers, seeing so much at once was almost overwhelming. They couldn’t help but make comparisons in their minds to the Ninth Cave, but when they thought about it, they knew that their Cave was equally wealthy, in a slightly different way. In fact, most of the Zelandonii Caves were.
The Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave took them into another shelter nearby, and again it was well decorated, primarily with engravings of horses, bison, deer, even a partial mammoth, often accented with both red ocher and black manganese paint. The antlers of an engraved deer, for example, had been outlined in black, while a bison had been painted mostly red. Again they were introduced to the people who were there. Ayla noticed that the children who had been around their shelter, which was on the same side of the small stream, had gathered around again; she recognized several of them.
Suddenly Ayla felt dizzy and nauseous, and had a very strong need to get out of the shelter. She couldn’t explain her intense urge to leave, but she had to get outside.
“I’m thirsty, I want to get some water,” she said, walking out quickly, and heading toward the stream.
“You don’t have to go out,” a woman said, following behind her. “We have a spring inside.”
“I think we all need to go anyway. The feast must be ready, and I’m hungry,” the Zelandoni of the Fifth Cave said. “I should think you must be, too.”