The Shelters of Stone (Earth's Children 5)

The horses, patiently grazing nearby, came at their whistles. They rode to the edge of the plateau and stopped again to look down at the valleys of the primary river and its tributary, and the complement of limestone cliffs that paralleled their courses. From the high field they could see the confluence of the small river flowing from the northwest and the main stream as it approached from the east. The smaller river flowed into the primary just before the larger river turned south, while it was still moving down a west-flowing section of its course. To the south, at the end of a series of cliffs, they saw the geologic block of limestone that contained the tremendous overhanging ledge of the Ninth Cave, with its long front terrace. But as Ayla looked down at the home of the Ninth Cave, it was not the remarkable size of its overhanging shelter that held her attention, but another most unusual formation.

Long before, during a formative orogeny, a period of mountain building when impressive peaks were folded and raised at the leisurely pace of geologic time, a pillar of igneous rock broke away from the place of its volcanic birth and fell into a stream. The

wall of stone from which the pillar had come had taken the shape of its crystal structure as fiery magma cooled into basalt, forming itself into great columns with flat sides meeting at angles.

As the rock that broke loose was moved along, pushed by torrential floods and dragged by glacial ice, the columnar piece of basalt, though bashed and battered, retained its basic shape. The pillar of stone was eventually deposited on the floor of an inland sea, along with deep layers of accumulated sediments of marine life that were creating limestone. Later earth movements raised the sea floor, which eventually became a land of rounded hills and cliffs along river valleys. As water, weather, and wind eroded the great faces of vertical limestone into the shelters and caves used by the Zelandonii, they also exposed the erratic, the battered piece of basalt from a distant location shaped like a column.

As if its sheer size weren’t enough to make the site unique, the huge abri was made even more unusual by the strange long stone embedded near the top and jutting out of the front of the huge limestone overhang. Though buried deeply into the cliff at one end, it was weathering out at such an angle that it seemed about to fall, making a distinctive landmark that added a striking element to the extraordinary rock shelter of the Ninth Cave. Ayla had seen it when she first arrived and, with a shiver of recognition, felt she had seen it before.

“Does that stone have a name?” she asked, pointing to it.

“It’s called the Falling Stone,” Jondalar said.

“That’s a good name for it,” she said. “And didn’t your mother mention names for those rivers?”

“The main river doesn’t really have a name,” Jondalar said. “Everyone just calls it The River. Most people think of it as the most important river in the region, even though it’s not the biggest. It flows into a much larger one south of here—in fact, we call that one Big River—but many of the Zelandonii Caves live near this one, and everyone knows it’s the one that’s meant when someone says The River.

“The little tributary down there is called Wood River,” Jondalar continued. “Many trees grow near it, and there is more wood in that valley than in most. It’s not used by hunters much.” Ayla nodded in tacit understanding.

The valley of the feeder stream, flanked on the right by limestone cliffs and on the left by steep hills, was not like most of the open grassy valleys of the main river and its other nearby tributaries. It was dense with trees and vegetation, especially upstream. Unlike more open areas, woodlands were not prized by hunters, because hunting was more difficult. Animals were harder to see with trees and brush to hide behind and use for camouflage, and those that migrated in large herds tended to prefer valleys with sizable fields of grass. On the other hand, the valley did provide wood, for constructions, and implements, and for fire. Fruits and nuts were also collected, and several other plants that were gathered for food and other uses, along with smaller animals that fell to snares and traps. In a land of relatively few trees, no one disdained the value of Wood River Valley’s contributions.

At the northeastern edge of the Ninth Cave’s terrace below, which also offered a view of the two river valleys, Ayla saw the obvious remains of a good-size fire. She hadn’t noticed it when she was there, she had been more concerned with following the trail down to the horse’s meadow in Wood River Valley.

“Why is there such a large hearth at the edge of the terrace, Jondalar? It can’t be for warmth; is it used for cooking?”

“That’s a signal fire,” he said, then continued when he noticed her puzzled expression. “A big balefire can be seen for quite a distance from that spot. We send messages to other Caves with the fires, and they pass the messages on with their signal fires.”

“What kind of messages?”

“Oh, many kinds. They are used a lot when herds are moving, letting hunters know what’s been seen. They are sometimes used to announce events or gathers, or some other kind of meeting.”

“But how does someone know what the fire means?”

“It’s usually arranged in advance, especially when it’s the season for certain herds to move and a hunt is planned. And there are certain fire signals that mean someone needs help. Any time that people see a fire burning there, they know to take notice. If they don’t know what it means, they will send a runner to find out.”

“That’s a very clever idea,” she said, then added a thought. “It’s something like the Clan signs and signals, isn’t it? Communicating without words.”

“I never thought of it that way, but I suppose you’re right,” he said.

Jondalar went back a different way from the one they had come. He headed toward The River Valley along a switchback trail that traversed a zigzag down the steeper incline near the top, then turned right through grass and brush on the more gradual slope. It came out along the edge of the flat lowlands of the right bank of The River and cut directly across Wood River Valley to the horse’s meadow.

On the way back, Ayla felt relaxed, but she didn’t have the exhilarating sense of freedom that she’d had on the ride out. Though she liked everyone she had met so far, there was still the big feast, and she was not anticipating meeting the rest of the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii tonight. She wasn’t used to so many people all at once.

They left Whinney and Racer in the grassy lea and found the place where the soap plant grew, but Jondalar had to point it out. It was one Ayla was not familiar with. She studied it carefully, noted similarities and differences, and made sure she would know it in the future, then got her pouch of dried ceanothus flowers.

Wolf jumped into The River with them but didn’t stay in long after they stopped paying attention to him. After a long swim to soak away the dust and grime of traveling, they crushed the root of the plant and some water in a depression of a flat rock with a rounded stone to release the saponin-rich foam. They rubbed it on themselves and, laughing, on each other, then dove under to rinse off. She gave some ceanothus to Jondalar, then applied some directly to her wet hair. The plant was not as soapy, foaming up only a little, but it smelled sweet and fresh. By the time she rinsed again, the young woman was ready to get out.

After drying with the soft skins, they spread them out and sat on them, sunning themselves. Ayla picked up the comb with four long teeth that had been carved out of mammoth ivory, which was a gift from her Mamutoi friend, Deegie, but when she started combing her hair, Jondalar stopped her.

“Let me do that for you,” he said, taking the comb. He had developed a fondness for combing her hair after she washed it, taking pleasurable delight in feeling the thick mass of wet hair dry into soft, springy tresses. And it made her feel unaccustomedly pampered.

“I like your mother and your sister,” Ayla said, sitting with her back to him while he combed, “and Willamar, too.”

“They like you, too.”

“And Joharran seems like a good leader. Do you know you and your brother have the same frown lines?” she asked. “I had to like him, he looks so familiar.”

“He was smitten by that beautiful smile of yours,” Jondalar said. “Just as I am.”