The Shelters of Stone

Chapter 11

The practice field was near the foot of Two Rivers Rock and consisted of a central runway of dirt that had been trampled bare from heavy use. Even the grass around it was flattened by the many people that had been standing and walking on it. One end of the run was marked by a large section of limestone that had once been an overhanging ledge, which had fallen some unknown time before. Its formerly sharp edges were rounded with the wear of time and climbing feet. At the other end four hides were wrapped and tied around bundles of dry grass that poked through several previous spear holes. On each of the hides, the shape of a different animal was painted.

"You'll have to move those targets farther away, at least twice the distance," Jondalar said.

"Twice the distance?" Kareja asked, eyeing the wooden implement in his hands.

"At least."

The object Jondalar held had been carved from a straight piece of wood and was about the length of his forearm from the ends of his extended fingers to his elbow. It was narrow and flat, with a long groove down the center and two leather loops near the front. A backstop at the rear had a tapering prong extending from it, a hook that fit into a hole carved into the butt of a light spear.

Out of a rawhide quiver, Jondalar took a flint point that was attached to a short length of wood with sinew and glue, made of boiled hooves and scraps of hide. The rear end of the short shank tapered to a rounded point. The object appeared to be a disproportionately short spear, or perhaps a kind of knife with an unusual handle. Then he pulled out of a holder a long shaft that was fletched at one end with two feathers like a spear but had no point at the other. There was a murmur of curiosity from the crowd.

He inserted the tapered end of the shank that was attached to the flint point into a hole that had been carved into the front end of the much longer shaft, and held out a two-piece, rather graceful, spear. There was an exclamation of understanding from some, but not all.

"I've made a few changes since I first developed this spear-throwing technique," Jondalar said to the assembled group. "I keep trying out new ideas to see how they work. This detachable spear point turned out to be a good one. Rather than the long shaft splintering every time a spear lands wrong or breaking when an animal you've hit runs away, with this," he held up the spear and separated the two pieces again, "the point will pull out of the shaft and you don't have to make a whole new spear."

There was an interested murmur from the crowd in response. It took time and effort to shape a spear shaft to make it straight so that it would fly true when it was thrown, and there wasn't a hunter there who hadn't broken one at the worst possible time.

"You may notice that this spear is somewhat smaller and more lightweight than normal spears," Jondalar continued.

"That's it!" Willamar exclaimed. "I knew there was something about that spear that was different, besides the fact that it's made in two parts. It somehow seems more graceful, almost feminine. Like a 'Mother' spear."

"We discovered that a lighter spear will actually fly better," Jondalar said.

"But will it pierce?" Brameval said. "It may not go as far, but I've found that a spear needs some heft. If it's too lightweight, it bounces off a thick hide, or breaks the point."

"I think it's time for a demonstration," Jondalar said, picking up his holder and quiver and moving back toward the fallen rocks. He had brought spare shafts and additional detachable points, but they were not all the same. Some were tipped with flint, though each point had a slightly different shape, others were made of a long piece of carved bone, shaped to a sharp point with a base that was split to facilitate attaching to the shorter intermediate shaft. He fitted a few more spears together in readiness while Solaban and Rushemar dragged a target farther away.

"Is this far enough, Jondalar?" Solaban shouted.

Jondalar glanced at Ayla. The wolf had stationed himself beside her. She held her spear-thrower and had a long quiver on her back with extra spears already put together. She smiled at him and he smiled back, but it was a nervous smile. He had decided to begin with a demonstration and then explain and answer questions.

"It will do," he said. It was well within range, quite close, in fact, but it would do for his first demonstration. He could be more accurate as well. He didn't have to tell them to stand out of the way. They were all loping back, more than happy to stay clear of a spear cast with the unfamiliar implement. He waited for them to return, and while they were all looking on with expressions ranging from expectant to doubtful, he prepared to throw.

Holding the spear-thrower horizontally in his right hand, with his thumb and index fingers through the two front loops, he quickly slapped a spear into the groove. He slid it back so that the hook of the thrower, which also acted as a backstop, fit into the hole in the fletched butt end, and without hesitation he launched the spear. He did it so quickly, many people hardly noticed the way that the back end of the thrower raised up while he held on to the front with the aid of the loops, effectively adding the length of the spear-thrower to the length of his arm and thereby gaining the advantage of the additional leverage.

What they did see was a spear fly with twice the usual speed and land in the middle of the deer painted on the hide with such force that it penetrated clear through the bundle of grass. To the observers' surprise, a second spear followed the first with nearly as much force, landing close to the same hole. Ayla had followed Jondalar's cast with one of her own. There was a stunned silence, and then a babble of questions.

"Did you see that!"

"I didn't see you throw, can you do it again, Jondalar?"

"That spear nearly went through the target, how did you throw it so hard?"

"Hers went through it, too. What gives them such force?"

"Can I see that thing? What do you call it? A spear-thrower?"

The last questions came from Joharran, and Jondalar gave him the implement. His brother looked it over carefully, even turning it over and noticing the simple carving of a giant deer on the back. It made him smile. He'd seen a similar carving before.

"Not bad, for a flint-knapper," he said, indicating the carving.

"How do you know I did it?"

"I remember when you thought you might be a carver, Jondalar. I think I still have a plate you once gave me with a carving like that. But where did this come from?" he said, handing the thrower back. "And I'd like to see how you use it."

"I worked it out when I was staying with Ayla in her valley. It's really not difficult to use, but it does take practice to gain control. I can throw farther, but Ayla is more accurate than I am," Jondalar explained as he picked up another spear. "Do you see this small hole that I carved into the back end of this spear?"

Joharran and several other people crowded near to see the rounded indentation.

"What's the purpose of that?" Kareja asked.

"I'll show you. See this hooklike projection at the back of the thrower? They fit together like this," he said, inserting the point of the hook into the hole. He adjusted the spear so that it lay flat on the thrower, with the two feathers of the fletching on either side, then he put his thumb and index finger through the leather loops, and held the spear and the thrower together in a horizontal position. Everyone was crowding around, trying to see. "Ayla, why don't you show them, too." Ayla went through a similar demonstration.

"She is holding it differently," Kareja said. "She has her first two fingers through the loops, Jondalar is using his thumb and forefinger."

"You are very perceptive, Kareja," Marthona remarked.

"This works best for me," Ayla explained. "Jondalar used to hold it this way, but now he prefers to hold it his way. Either way is fine. You can hold it whatever way is most comfortable for you."

Kareja nodded, then said, "Your spears are smaller and lighter than usual, too."

"At first we used bigger spears, but Jondalar came up with these smaller ones after a while. They are easier to handle and better for accuracy," Ayla said.

Jondalar continued with the demonstration. "When you throw, notice how the back of the spear-thrower raises up, giving the spear an extra push?" With the spear and thrower in his right hand, he took hold of the spear with his left to show the movement in slow motion without letting the spear drop. "That's what gives it the extra force."

"When that spear-thrower is fully extended, it's as though your arm is half again as long," Brameval said. He hadn't said much before, and it took Ayla a moment to recall that he was the leader of the Fourteenth Cave.

"Would you throw the spear again? Show us once more how it works?" Manvelar said.

Jondalar pulled back, took aim, and let fly. The spear punched through the target again. Ayla's spear followed a heartbeat later.

Kareja looked at the woman Jondalar had brought home and smiled. She hadn't known Ayla was so accomplished. It rather surprised her. She had assumed the quite obviously attractive woman would be more like Marona, the one he had chosen before he left, but this woman might be worth getting to know better.

"Would you like to try it, Kareja?" Ayla asked, offering her spear-thrower.

"Yes, I would," the leader of the Eleventh Cave said, smiling broadly. She took the thrower and examined it while Ayla got another spear shaft with a detachable point. She noticed the bison carved on the bottom and wondered if Jondalar had made it, too. It was a decent carving, not exceptional, but adequate.

Wolf wandered off while Ayla and Jondalar showed people the techniques they would have to practice in order to effectively use the new hunting weapon. While some managed to make some good distance throws, it was obvious that accuracy would take more time. Ayla was standing back, watching, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned to see Wolf chasing something. When she caught a glimpse of it, she took her sling out of a pouch, along with a couple of smooth, rounded stones.

She placed the stone in the pouch of leather in the middle of the sling, and when the ptarmigan in full summer plumage flew up, she was ready. She hurled it at the plump bird and saw it drop. A second ptarmigan flew up, and a second stone from Ayla's sling brought it down. By then, Wolf had found the first one. She intercepted him as he was carrying it off and took it out of his mouth, then picked up the second and carried them both by their feet. Suddenly she realized it was the right season and started looking around in the grass. She spied the nest and, with a grin of delight, picked up several eggs as well. She would be able to cook Creb's favorite dish, ptarmigan stuffed with its own eggs.

She was pleased with herself as she walked back with Wolf at her side and didn't notice until she drew near that everyone had stopped practicing and was staring at her. Some were smiling, but most people looked surprised. Jondalar was grinning.

"Didn't I tell you about her skill with a sling?" Jondalar said. He was feeling smug, and it showed.

"But you didn't say she used the wolf to flush out game. With her sling and the wolf, why did you need to come up with this thing?" Joharran said, holding up the spear-thrower.

"In fact, it was her sling that gave me the idea for it," Jondalar said, "and she didn't have Wolf then, though she had hunted with a cave lion."

Most people thought Jondalar was joking, although looking at the woman holding a couple of dead ptarmigan, with the wolf at her side, they weren't sure what to believe.

"How did you develop this spear-thrower, Jondalar?" Joharran asked. It had been his turn to try, and he still had the thrower in his hand.

"Watching Ayla throw a stone with that sling made me wish I could throw a spear like that. In fact, my first tries were with a kind of sling, but then I realized I needed something stiffer, less flexible. Eventually, I came up with this idea," Jondalar explained. "But at that time, I didn't know what you could really do with one. It takes practice, as you can guess by now, but we have even learned to use them from horseback. Now that you've had a chance to try them, maybe we should give you a real demonstration. Too bad we didn't bring the horses, but at least I can give you a better idea of their range."

Several spears had been retrieved from the targets. Jondalar picked one up, took the thrower from Joharran, and walked back a few feet. He sighted toward the targets, but instead of aiming directly for the hay bundles, he gave it as hard a cast as he could. The spear sailed over the bundles, going more than half again the distance before landing in the distant grass. Sounds of amazement could be heard.

Ayla went next, and though she didn't have quite the power of the tall, muscular man, her spear fell only a little short of Jondalar's. Ayla's physical strength was greater than that of most women; it was the result of her upbringing. The people of the Clan were stronger and more robust than the Others. For her to keep up with them, to simply perform the ordinary work that was expected of Clan women and girls as she grew up, she had had to develop stronger bones and more muscle power than was normal for her kind.

As the spears were gathered, the people talked about the new weapon they had just seen. Casting a spear with a spear-thrower did not appear to be much different from throwing a spear by hand. The difference was in the results. It flew more than twice as far and with much greater force. That was the aspect most discussed, because it was immediately understood how much safer it would be to throw a spear from a greater distance.

Hunting accidents, while not common, were also not rare. More than one hunter had been maimed or killed by a pain-maddened, wounded animal. The question was how long and how much effort it would take to gain, if not the level of expertise displayed by Jondalar and Ayla, at least enough skill to use the spear-thrower competently. Some seemed to feel that they already had adequate techniques to hunt effectively, but some, especially the younger ones who were still learning, were more interested.

At first glance, the new weapon seemed so simple, and in fact it was. But it was based on principles that, although understood intuitively, would not be codified until much later. The spear-thrower was a handle, a unique detachable handle that utilized the mechanical advantage of leverage to add impetus to a spear, making it fly much farther and faster than a spear thrown with just an arm.

People had been using handles of various kinds for as long as they could remember, and any handle would amplify the force of muscles. For example, a sharp chip of stone – flint, jasper, chert, quartz, obsidian – was a cutting tool when held in the hand, but a handle multiplied the force that could be applied to the edge, increasing the effectiveness of the knife and giving the user more control.

But the spear-thrower was more than a new use of principles that were innately known. It was an example of an inborn characteristic of people like Jondalar and Ayla that made their survival more likely: the ability to conceive of an idea and turn it into a useful object, to take an abstract thought and make it real. That was their greatest Gift, though they didn't even recognize it for what it was.

The visitors spent the rest of the afternoon discussing strategies for the upcoming hunt. They decided to go after the herd of bison that had been sighted, since there were more animals in that group. Jondalar mentioned again that he thought they could hunt both the bison and the giant deer, but he didn't press the matter. Ayla said nothing, deciding to wait and see. The visitors were fed another meal and urged to stay the night. Some people chose to stay, but Joharran had some things he wanted to prepare before the hunt, and he had promised Kareja to stop for a short visit with the Eleventh Cave on the way back.

It was still light, though the sun was falling in the west when the Ninth Cave started down the path. When they reached the relatively flat stretch of land near the bank of The River, Ayla turned and looked up again at the multiple levels of shelflike shelters of Two Rivers Rock. Some people were waving at them with a beckoning "come-back" gesture that was used by many people. She noticed that the visitors waved back with a similar motion; theirs meant "come-and-visit."

Walking near the bank, they followed the cliff around to the right, back toward the north. As they continued upstream, the rock wall on their side of The River became less and less high. Near the lowest part at the bottom of a slope they saw a stone shelter. Slightly farther back and up the slope, perhaps one hundred twenty feet away, was a second abri, but stretching more or less continually along the same terrace level. A small cave could also be seen nearby. The two shelters, the cave, and the long terrace constituted the living site of another community in this densely populated regional settlement – the Eleventh Cave of the Zelandonii.

Kareja and the people of the Eleventh Cave had left Two Rivers Rock before the Ninth, and the leader was standing beside Zelandoni of the Eleventh as the group approached, waiting to greet them. Seeing them together, Ayla noticed that Kareja was taller than Zelandoni of the Eleventh. It was not that she was so tall, Ayla realized as they drew near, but that he was rather short. As he greeted her, she noticed again his strong grip. But she sensed something else about him. The man had certain mannerisms that had confused her when she first met him and came across quite strongly as he greeted and welcomed the visitors.

Suddenly she perceived that he did not appraise her the way most of the Zelandonii men did, whether overtly or with more subtlety, and she understood that this man did not look to women to satisfy his personal needs. When she was living with the Lion Camp, she recalled listening with much interest to a discussion about people who carried the essence of both male and female within them. Then she remembered Jondalar saying that such Zelandoni often made excellent healers, and she couldn't help but smile. Perhaps he would be another person with whom she could discuss practices and techniques of healing and medicine.

His smile in return was friendly. "Welcome to River Place, the home of the Eleventh Cave of the Zelandonii," he said. Another man, who was standing to the side and slightly behind him, was smiling at the Zelandoni in a warm and loving way. He was rather tall and had nice regular features that Ayla thought would be considered handsome, but he moved in a way that struck her as womanly.

The Zelandoni turned to look at the tall man and signaled him forward. "I'd like to introduce my friend, Marolan of the Eleventh Cave of the Zelandonii," he said, then continued the rest of the formal introduction, which seemed somewhat longer than usual, Ayla thought.

While he was speaking, Jondalar moved up beside her, which made her feel better when she was in a new situation, and she had been in many since they had returned to the land of his people. She turned to smile at him, then turned back to take both hands of the man. He was not as tall as Jondalar, she noted, but somewhat taller than her.

"In the name of the Mut, the Great Mother of All, also known as Doni, I greet you, Marolan of the Eleventh Cave of the Zelandonii," she concluded. His smile was cordial and he seemed interested in talking, but they had to step aside to make room for others that the leader and the Zelandoni of the Eleventh Cave were welcoming, and some people moved between them before they could exchange any conversational pleasantries. There would be time to talk later, she thought.

She glanced around to examine her surroundings. Although the location was higher than the bank, and somewhat back from the edge of the water, it was still rather close to The River. She commented on it to Marthona.

"Yes, they are close to The River," the woman said. "Some people think they could be subject to flooding. Zelandoni says there are some hints about it in the Elder Legends, but no one living now, not even the oldest, has any memory of floods here. They do take advantage of their location, though."

Willamar explained that because of their immediate access, the people of the Eleventh Cave made good use of The River's resources. Fishing was a principal activity, but more important, the Eleventh Cave was known for water transport. "River rafts are used to carry substantial amounts of whatever needs to be transported – food, goods, or people," he said. "The people of the Eleventh Cave are not only the most skilled at poling the rafts up and down The River, for themselves, and for neighboring Caves, but they make most of them."

"That's their skill," Jondalar added. "The Eleventh Cave specializes in making and using river rafts. Their home is known as River Place."

"Isn't that what those logs are?" she asked, pointing to several constructions made of wood and logs near the edge of the water. They weren't unfamiliar. She had seen something like them before and tried to remember where. Then it came to her. The S'Armunai women had used a raft. When she was trying to find Jondalar and following the only trail that led away from the site of his disappearance, she had come to a river and seen a small raft nearby.

"Not all of them. The one that looks like a big raft is their dock. The smaller platforms tied to it are rafts. Most Caves have a place near the water to secure rafts, some not much more than a simple piling, others have more elaborate docks, but none are quite like theirs. When somebody wants to travel or transport something, either up or downriver, they go to the Eleventh Cave to make arrangements. They make fairly regular runs," Jondalar said. "I'm glad we're stopping here. I've been wanting to tell them about the Sharamudoi and their wonderfully maneuverable river craft that are shaped out of logs."

Joharran had overheard. "I don't think you'll have time to get into much of a discussion about river craft right now, unless you want to stay behind. I'd like to get back to the Ninth Cave before dark," he said. "I told Kareja I'd stop because she wanted to show you around, Ayla, and I'd like to make a trip upriver by raft after the hunt to meet with some of the other leaders about the Summer Meeting."

"If we had one of those small Ramudoi dugout boats, a couple of people could paddle upriver and wouldn't have to worry about poling a heavy raft," Jondalar said.

"How long would it take to make one?" Joharran asked.

"It takes a lot of work," Jondalar acknowledged. "But once it's made, it could last a while."

"That won't help me now, will it?"

"No. I was thinking of what a help it might be later."

"Perhaps, but I need to get upriver in the next few days," Joharran said, "and back again. If the Eleventh Cave is planning a trip, it would be easier, and much faster coming back, but I can walk if I have to."

"You could use the horses," Ayla said.

"You could use the horses, Ayla." Joharran gave her a wry grin. "I don't know how to make them go where I want."

"A horse can carry two people. You could ride behind me," she said.

"Or me," Jondalar said.

"Well, maybe sometime, but right now I think I'll find out if the Eleventh Cave is planning a trip upriver soon," Joharran said.

They hadn't noticed Kareja approach. "In fact, I have been thinking about making a run upriver," she said. They all looked up. "I'm going to the meeting, too, Joharran, and if the hunt is successful…" even if it was considered likely, no one ever presumed that any hunt would be successful; it would be bad luck, "… it might be a good idea to take some meat to the site of the Summer Meeting and cache it nearby beforehand. I think you are right that the Meeting will be particularly well attended this year." She turned to Ayla. "I know you can't stay long, but I wanted to show you our place and introduce you to some people." She didn't exactly ignore Jondalar, but she directed her comments to Ayla.

Jondalar looked more closely at the leader of the Eleventh Cave. She had been one of the most derisive of those who had teased him about his hunting suggestions and claims about their new hunting weapons, though now she seemed quite impressed with Ayla… after she had shown her skill. Maybe he should wait before bringing up the new kind of boats, and maybe Kareja wasn't the one he should talk to about them, he thought, wondering who their foremost raft-maker was now.

He tried to remember what he knew about Kareja. She'd never had many men interested in her, he recalled. Not because she wasn't attractive, but she hadn't seemed particularly interested in men and didn't encourage them. But he didn't recall her being interested in women, either. She had always lived with her mother, Dorova. Jondalar wondered if she still did.

Her mother had never chosen to live with a man, he knew. He couldn't remember who the man of her hearth was, or if anyone ever knew which man's spirit the Great Mother had chosen to make Dorova pregnant. People had wondered about the name she had chosen for her daughter, mostly because it resembled the sound of the wordcourageous. Did she think Kareja would need courage? It did take courage to be the leader of a Cave.

Ayla knew the wolf would draw attention and bent down to reassure him with strokes and words of comfort. She drew comfort from him as well. It was hard to be the focus of so much constant scrutiny, and it was not likely to diminish soon. She was not exactly looking forward to the Summer Meeting for just that reason, even though she was anticipating the Matrimonial that would make her Jondalar's mate. She took a deep breath and let out a surreptitious sigh, then straightened up. Giving Wolf a signal to stay close, she joined Kareja and walked toward the first of the living shelters.

It was similar to all the other shelters of stone in the region. Relative differences in the hardness of the limestone had caused the cliffs to erode at dissimilar rates, creating spaces in between terraces and overhanging ledges that were protected from precipitation above yet open to daylight. With the addition of structures built to block wind and fire to provide warmth, the spaces in the limestone cliffs provided very advantageous living conditions even during Ice Age winters in periglacial regions.

After meeting several people and introducing Wolf to a few, Ayla was led to the other stone shelter, the one in which Kareja lived. She met the leader's mother, Dorova, but no other relatives. Kareja did not appear to have a mate or siblings, and she made it clear that she wanted no children, saying that taking care of her Cave was responsibility enough.

Kareja paused and seemed to be studying Ayla, then she said, "Since you are so knowledgeable about horses, I want to show you something."

Jondalar was a little surprised when the leader headed toward a small cave. He knew where they were going, and people didn't usually bring unknown visitors to their sacred places on their first visit. Near the entrance of the cave's single gallery was a series of cryptic lines, and inside were several crude engravings that were rather difficult to see. On the ceiling, however, was a large, finely engraved horse, and more markings at the end.

"That is a remarkable horse," Ayla said. "Whoever made it must know horses well. Does that person live here?"

"I don't think so, though her spirit may still linger," Kareja said. "It has been here a long time. Some ancestor made it, we don't know who."

The last thing Ayla was shown was the dock with two rafts tied to it, and a working area where another raft was being built. She would have liked to stay longer and learn more, but Joharran was in a hurry and Jondalar had said he had to make some preparations as well. Ayla didn't want to stay by herself, especially on her first visit, but she did promise to return.

The party continued north upstream along The River to the foot of a small rocky escarpment where there was a small rock shelter.

Ayla noticed that rock debris tended to accumulate along the edge of the cliff overhang. The accumulation of talus created a wall of loose, sharp-edged gravel below the lip of the abri.

There was some evidence of use. Several panel screens stood behind the talus, and one that had fallen down. An old sleeping roll, so worn that most of the fur was gone, had been tossed against the back wall. The black circular remains of a few fireplaces were evident, two of them encircled by stones and one with two forked sticks planted in the ground across from each other, used, Ayla was sure, to support meat spitted for roasting.

Ayla thought she saw a few wisps of smoke coming from one hearth, and she was surprised. The place seemed to be abandoned, yet it looked as though it had been used recently.

"What Cave lives here?" she asked.

"No Cave lives here," Joharran said.

"But all of them use it," Jondalar added.

"Everyone uses this place occasionally," Willamar said. "It's a place to get out of the rain, or for a group of youngsters to gather, or for a couple to be alone at night, but no one lives here permanently. People just call it 'The Shelter.'"

After stopping at The Shelter, they continued up the valley of The River to the Crossing. Looking ahead, Ayla again saw the cliffs and distinctive overhanging shelter of the Ninth Cave on the right bank at the outside of the sharp bend. After crossing, they followed a well-worn path beside The River along the base of a slope with thinning trees and brush.

They again walked single file as the trail narrowed between The River and a sheer vertical cliff. "This is the one called 'High Rock,' isn't it?" Ayla said, slowing down to let Jondalar catch up.

"Yes," he said as they approached a fork in the path just beyond the sheer wall. The fork headed back the way they had come but angled up.

"Where does that path go?" she asked.

"To some caves that are high up in that steep wall we just passed," he said. She nodded.

After a few yards, the trail going north led to a valley oriented in an east-west direction that was enclosed by cliffs. A small stream ran down the middle of the valley into The River, which at that point was flowing almost exactly north to south. So narrow that it was very nearly a gorge, the valley nestled between two steep embankments: High Rock, the vertical cliff just passed on the south, and a second mass of rock of even more grand proportions on the north.

"Does that have a name?" Ayla asked.

"Everybody just calls it Big Rock," Jondalar said, "and the little stream is called Fish Creek."

As they looked up the path that ran beside a stream, they saw several people walking down. Brameval was leading the way, approaching them with a big smile. "Come and visit, Joharran," he said when he reached them. "We'd like to show Ayla around and introduce her to a few people."

Jondalar could tell from his expression that his brother really didn't want to stop again, though he knew it would be very impolite to refuse. Marthona, too, could read his expression and jumped in, not willing to let her son make a blunder that might antagonize a good neighbor just because he thought he had to hurry back. Whatever his plans, they weren't that important.

"Of course," she said. "We'd love to stop for a while. We can't stay long this time. We have to get ready for the hunt, and Joharran has some things he must do."

"How did he know we were passing by just now?" Ayla asked Jondalar as they walked up the path that ran beside Fish Creek and approached their settlement.

"Remember that fork in the path that headed up to caves in High Rock?" he said. "Brameval must have had a watcher up there, and when he saw us coming, he just ran down and told him."

Ayla saw a crowd of people waiting for them and noticed that the sections of the huge blocks of limestone that faced the creek held several small caves and abris and one immense rock shelter. When they reached it, Brameval turned around and held out his arms in a gesture that encompassed the entire place.

"Welcome to Little Valley, the home of the Fourteenth Cave of the Zelandonii," he said.

The spacious abri was fronted by a large terrace that was accessible from either side by means of a gradual ramp into which a narrow path of shallow steps had been carved out along the wall. A small hole in the cliff wall above had been slightly enlarged and could be used as a lookout or a smoke hole. A portion of the front opening of the stone shelter was protected from the elements by a wall of piled limestone shards.

The visitors from the Ninth Cave were invited into the primary living site of the small valley community and offered a cup of tea, which was already made. Chamomile, Ayla determined after taking a taste. Wolf was obviously curious to explore this new stone shelter – probably no more so than Ayla – but she kept him at her side. Everyone knew of the wolf who obeyed the woman, of course, and many had already seen him, but from a distance. It was obvious to her that it was more unnerving to have him inside their home.

She introduced Wolf to Brameval's sister and their Zelandoni while the others looked on. Even though the Ninth Cave were close friends with the Fourteenth, everyone knew it was the stranger, Ayla, who was the focus of attention. After the introductions, and a second round of tea, there was the uncomfortable silence of strangers not quite knowing what to do or say next. Joharran was looking with longing toward the path that led out, toward The River.

"Would you like to see the rest of Little Valley, Ayla?" Brameval said when it became apparent that Joharran was getting anxious to go.

"Yes, I would," she said.

With some relief, the visitors from the Ninth Cave and several people from the Fourteenth filed down the steps carved along the wall, as children jumped off the front. While the large shelter was the main home of the Fourteenth Cave, two other small rock shelters next to each other at the foot of the south-facing cliff were also used.

They stopped at a small shelter just a few feet away. "This is the Shelter of the Salmon," Brameval said, leading the way into a small, nearly circular enclosure about twenty feet across.

He pointed up. Ayla looked and saw sculptured in low relief on the vaulted ceiling a life-size salmon almost four feet long, carved with the hooked jaws of a male swimming upstream to spawn. It was part of a more complex scene, containing in addition a rectangle divided by seven lines, the forelegs of a horse, and other enigmatic markings and engravings, along with a negative handprint picked out of a black background. The entire vault had substantial areas of solid red and black color used to accent the engravings.

They made a rather quick tour of the rest of Little Valley. In the southwest, opposite the large rock shelter, was a rather spacious cave, and in the south a ledge opened in front of a small abri, which was extended into the cliff wall by a gallery cave some sixty-five feet long. To the right of the entrance of the cave, on a small natural terracette, two aurochs were carved with vigorous outlines, and the suggestion of a rhinoceros.

Ayla was quite impressed with all the natural sites in Little Valley and was quite open about showing it. Brameval and the Fourteenth Cave were proud of their home and were delighted to show it off to someone who demonstrated her appreciation. They were also getting accustomed to the wolf, especially since Ayla was careful to keep him under control. Several people encouraged the visitors, or at least Ayla, to stay for a meal.

"I would like to," Ayla said, "but not this time. I'd love to come back, though."

"Well, before you go, I'll show you our weir," Brameval said. "It's on the way to The River."

He led the rather large group that had gathered, including the visitors, to a permanent dammed fish trap that had been constructed in Fish Creek. The waterway that ran through the narrow valley was a salmon-spawning stream, where adult fish returned every year. By making various adaptations, the weir was an effective way to catch many of the other varieties of fish that also found the small stream tempting. But most prized were the huge salmon, up to five feet in length although four feet was more common for an adult male.

"We also make fishing nets to catch fish, especially from The River," Brameval said.

"The people I grew up with lived near an inland sea. Sometimes they went to the mouth of the river that flowed near their cave and used nets to catch sturgeon. They were happy when they caught females because they particularly liked the roe, the tiny black fish eggs," Ayla said.

"I've tasted sturgeon roe," Brameval said, "when we visited the people who live near the Great Waters of the West. It's good, but sturgeon don't often come this far upstream. Salmon do, of course, and their eggs are good, too, they're bigger and bright-colored, almost red. I prefer the fish to the eggs, though. I think salmon like red. Did you know male salmon get red when they're swimming upstream? I'm not as familiar with sturgeon. I understand they can get quite big."

"Jondalar caught one of the biggest sturgeon I've ever seen. I think it was longer than two of him," Ayla said, turning to smile at the tall man, and with a twinkle in her eye she added, "It gave him quite a ride."

"Unless you are planning to stay here, I think Jondalar will have to tell that story later," Joharran interjected.

"Yes, later," Jondalar said. The story was a little embarrassing, and he wasn't eager to tell it, anyway.

They continued talking about fishing as they walked together back toward The River. "When people like to fish by themselves, they often use a gorge. You know how it works, don't you?" Brameval asked. "You take a small piece of wood, sharpen it at both ends, and tie a fine cord in the middle," he was eagerly explaining, using his hands as he talked. "I usually attach a float and tie the other end to a pole. Fasten an earthworm around the gorge and dangle it in the water, then watch it. When you see a nibble, with luck, a quick jerk will pull the gorge so that it's horizontal across the throat or mouth with the two points stuck in either side. Even youngsters can get quite good."

Jondalar was smiling. "I know. You taught me when I was young," he said, then looked at Ayla. "Don't get Brameval started talking about fishing." The leader looked slightly embarrassed. "Ayla fishes, too, Brameval." The man smiled at the woman. "She can catch fish with her bare hands."

"Yes, she told me," Brameval said. "It must be difficult."

"It takes a lot of patience, but it's not hard," Ayla said. "I'll show you sometime."

After leaving the narrow gorge of Little Valley, Ayla noticed that the huge mass of limestone called Big Rock, which formed the north side of the Fourteenth Cave's small vale, soared up steeply, but unlike High Rock, it did not crowd close to The River. After several yards the path widened out as the tall limestone walls that lined the right bank pulled back from the edge of the water until a large field separated the stone walls from the flowing river.

"This is called the Gather Field," Jondalar said. "It's another place that's used by all the Caves around here. When we all want to get together for a gathering, like a feast or a meeting to let everyone know something, this place is big enough to hold us. We sometimes use it after a big hunt to dry the meat for winter. I suppose if there was a stone shelter here or a usable cave, it would have been claimed, but anyone can use it now. Mostly in summer, when a tent is a good enough shelter to stay in for a few days."

Ayla looked across at the limestone wall. Though there were no usable abris or deep caves, the face of the cliff was split by ledges and crevices where birds nested.

"I used to climb that wall a lot when I was young," Jondalar said. "There are all kinds of lookout perches and a spectacular view of The River Valley."

"The youngsters still do," Willamar said.

Beyond the Gather Field and just downstream from the Ninth Cave, another ridge of limestone cliffs crowded close to The River. Here, the forces that had eroded the stone of the cliff had created a rounded bulging appearance that rose to the top, and like all the limestone cliffs and overhangs, the warm yellowish natural color of the stone was streaked with shades of dark gray.

The trail climbed up a rather steep slope from The River to a sizable level terrace that extended beyond a row of substantial rock shelters, separated in places by sheer rock walls that had no protective overhangs. From the south, several simple structures of hide and wood were seen under the bulging overhang of rock shelters. They were constructed in the pattern of a longhouse, with a row of hearths down the middle paralleling the cliff wall.

Two fairly large stone shelters at the northern end of the terrace, about fifty yards apart, were almost contiguous with the enormous overhanging rock shelter of the Ninth Cave, but because of the way the cliff curved, the shelters did not face south, which Ayla felt made this place less desirable. She looked down at the southerly end of the terrace of the Ninth Cave beyond a spring-fed stream that ran off the edge of the stone porch, and she realized that this ledge was somewhat higher in elevation.

"Which Cave claims this place?" Ayla asked.

"No Cave really claims it," Jondalar said. "It's called Down River, probably because it's just downriver from the Ninth Cave. The runoff of the spring that rises out of the back wall has worn through the stone porch that makes a natural division between the Ninth Cave and Down River. We made a bridge to connect the two places. The Ninth Cave probably uses it more than any other, but all of the Caves use it."

"What do they use it for?" Ayla asked.

"For making things. It's a place to work. People come here to work on their crafts, especially crafts that use hard materials."

Ayla noticed then that the whole terrace of Down River, but especially within and around the area of the two northernmost abris, was littered with a refuse of ivory, bone, antler, wood, and stone from knapping flint and making tools, hunting weapons, and various implements.

"Jondalar, I'm going on ahead," Joharran said. "We're almost home and I know you want to stay here and tell Ayla all about Down River."

The rest of the people of the Ninth Cave went on with him. It was dusk, and would soon be dark.

"The first of these stone shelters is used mostly by those who work flint," Jondalar said. "Flint leaves a lot of sharp pieces when you work it. It's best to keep them in one place." Then he looked around and saw that the debitage of chips and flakes, left behind in the process of making knives, spear points, scrapers, the chisel-like tools called burins, and other weapons and tools out of the hard siliceous stone, was all over. "Well," he smiled, "that was the original idea."

He told her that most of the stone tools made here were taken to the second rock shelter to be attached to handles made out of other materials such as wood or bone, and many of those would then be used to make other things out of the same hard materials, but there were no hard and fast rules about what was made where. They often worked together.

For example, the worker who shaped flint into a knife blade often collaborated closely with the one who made the handle for it, perhaps chipping a bit more off the tang of the blade to fit into the handle better, or suggesting that the haft be modified or thinned for better balance. Or the shaper of a bone spear point might ask the flint-knapper to sharpen a tool or suggest a way to rework it to make it easier to use. Or the carver who decorated the handle or shaft might want a special chisel point, and only a skilled and experienced knapper could detach a burin – spall off the end of the flint implement at just the right angle to get the desired result.

Jondalar greeted a few crafters who were still around the second stone shelter at the north end of the terrace, working on some project, and introduced Ayla. They eyed the wolf warily, but went back to work after the animal and the couple passed on.

"It's getting dark," Ayla said. "Where will those people sleep?"

"They could come to the Ninth Cave, but they'll probably light a fire and stay up late, and then spend the night in one of those sleeping lodges under the first shelters we passed," he explained. "They're trying to finish before tomorrow. If you recall, there were many more crafters here earlier today. The rest have either gone home or are staying with friends at the Ninth Cave."

"Does everyone come here to work on projects?" Ayla asked.

"Every Cave has a work site like this near their living area, usually smaller, but whenever crafters have a question or an idea to work out, they come here," Jondalar said.

He went on to explain that it was also where a young person was taken who had developed an interest and wanted to learn something about a particular craft. It was a good place to discuss things, such as the quality of flint from various regions and the best uses for each variety. Or to exchange views about techniques about anything: how to cut down a tree with a flint axe, or remove suitable pieces of ivory from a mammoth tusk, or cut a tine off an antler, or bore a hole through a shell or a tooth, or shape and pierce beads, or rough out an approximate shape for a bone spear point. It was the place to discuss acquiring raw material and to plan trips or trading missions to get it.

And not least, it was a good place to just talk about who was interested in whom, who was having problems with a mate or a mate's mother, whose daughter, son, or hearth-child had taken a first step, or spoken a new word, or made a tool, or found a good patch of berries, or tracked an animal, or made a first kill. Ayla quickly got the idea that it was a place for both serious work and friendly camaraderie.

"We'd better get going before it's too dark to find our way," Jondalar said, "especially since we don't have torches. Besides, if we are going hunting tomorrow, there's a few things we will need, too, and we'll be off early."

The sun had already set, though the last glimmerings of light colored the sky overhead when they finally headed down toward the bridge over the runoff creek from the spring. They crossed over to the end of the shelter of stone that was the home of Jondalar and his people, the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. As the path leveled out, Ayla noticed that the light from several fires ahead was reflected off the underside of the limestone overhang. It was a welcoming sight. For all the protection of the animal Spirits that helped to define Her, only people knew how to make fire.