The Land of Painted Caves (Earth's Children 6)

While Jondalar refilled the small waterbags they had with them from the large one he carried, Zelandoni put some globs of the tallow into the bowls of each of the three stone lamps, and used her torch to start them melting. She then laid two dried mushroom wicks into the pools of melted fat in each of the lamps so that more than half the length of each absorbent strip was in the liquid fat, leaving two small ends sticking out over each rim. When she lit them they sputtered a bit, but the heat drew the fat into the wicks and soon they had three additional sources of light, which made it seem quite bright inside the absolute darkness of the cave.

Jondalar passed out the food that had been cooked during their morning meal for their trek inside the cave. They put pieces of roasted red deer meat into their personal eating bowls, and used their cups for cold broth with cooked vegetables from another waterbag. The long pieces of wild carrots, small round starchy roots, trimmed thistle stems, shoots from hops, and wild onions were quite soft and required little chewing; they drank them into their mouths with the soup.

Ayla had also cut up some meat for Wolf. She gave it to him, then settled down to eat her own food while she finished nursing her daughter. She had noticed that though he explored a little during their walk, Wolf didn’t stray too far. Wolves could see amazingly well in the dark and sometimes she could see his eyes from the dark recesses of the cave reflecting even their small light. Having him nearby gave her a feeling of security. She felt sure that if something unforeseen happened to make them lose their fire, he would be able to lead them out of any cave using only his nose. She knew his sense of smell was so keen, he could easily retrace their steps.

While everyone was quietly eating, Ayla found herself paying attention to her surroundings, using all her senses. The light from their lamps illuminated only a limited area around them. The rest of the cave was black, a rich, all-encompassing darkness that was never found outside even in the deepest gloom of night, but while she could not see beyond the glow of the small double fires in each of their lamps, if she tried she could hear the the soft mutterings of the cave.

She had seen that in some areas the ground and stones were fairly dry. Others glistened with shimmering wetness as water from rain and snow and melting runoff seeped slowly, with inestimable patience, through earth and limestone, accumulating calcareous residue on its way, and depositing it drop by drop to create the stone icicles above them and the rounded stumps of stone below. She could hear faint soft drips, both nearby and farther away. After time beyond measure, they joined into the pillars and walls and draperies that shaped the inside of the cave.

There were tiny scrabblings and chitterings of minute creatures, and an almost undetectable movement of air, a muted soughing that she had to strain to perceive. It was almost drowned out by the noise of the breathing of the five living beings who had entered the silent space. She tried to smell the air and opened her mouth to sample it. It felt moist with a slight decaying taste of raw earth and ancient seashells compressed into limestone.

After their meal, Zelandoni said, “There is something I’d like you to see in this small tunnel. We can leave the packs here and pick them up on the way back, but each of us should carry a lamp.”

They all found a private corner to pass water and relieve themselves first. Ayla held the baby out to let her pass her wastes as well and cleaned her with some soft fresh moss she had brought with her. Then she used the carrying blanket to hold Jonayla on her hip, picked up one of the limestone lamps, and followed Zelandoni into the passageway that split off toward the left. The woman started singing again. Both Ayla and Jondalar were becoming familiar with the echoing timbre of the tone that informed them they were near a sacred site, a place that was closer to the Other World.

When Zelandoni stopped, she was looking at the right wall. They followed her gaze and saw two mammoths facing each other. Ayla thought they were particularly remarkable, and wondered what all the different placements of mammoths in this cave meant. Since they were created so long ago that no one knew who made them, or even the Cave or the People to whom the artists belonged, it wasn’t likely that anyone would know, but she couldn’t resist asking.

“Do you know why the mammoths are facing each other, Zelandoni?”

“Some people think they are fighting,” the woman said. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think so,” Ayla said.

“Why not?” the First said.

“They don’t look fierce or angry. They seem to be having a meeting,” Ayla said.

“What do you think, Jondalar?” Zelandoni asked.

“I don’t think they are fighting, or planning to fight,” he said. “Maybe they just happened to meet.”

“Do you think whoever put them there would go to the trouble if they just happened to meet?” the First asked.

“No, probably not,” he said.

“Maybe each mammoth represents the leader of a group of people who are coming together to make a decision about something important,” Ayla said. “Or perhaps they have made the decision and this commemorates it.”

“That’s one of the more interesting ideas I’ve heard,” Zelandoni said.

“But we’ll never know for sure, will we?” Jondalar said.

“No, not likely,” the One Who Was First said. “But the guesses people make often tell us something about the one doing the guessing.”

They waited together in silence; then Ayla had an urge to touch the wall between the mammoths. She reached out with her right hand and placed it palm down on the stone, then closed her eyes and held it there. She felt the hardness of the rock, the cold, rather damp sensation of the limestone. And then she thought she felt something else, like an intensity, a concentration, heat—maybe it was her own body heat warming the stone. She took her hand down and looked at it, then shifted her baby into a slightly different position.

They went back to the main passageway and headed north, with lamps for light now instead of torches. Zelandoni continued using her voice, sometimes humming, sometimes expressing greater tonal qualities, stopping when she thought there was something she wanted them to see. Ayla was particularly fascinated by the mammoth that had lines indicating fur hanging below, but that also had marks, perhaps bear claw marks, scratching through it. She was intrigued by the rhinoceroses. When they got to a place where the song in the large cave grew more resonant, Zelandoni stopped again.

“We have a choice here of which way to go,” she said. “I think we should go straight first, then turn around and come back to here and take the left passage for a while. Then turn around and go back the way we’ve come, and out of the cave. Or we can just take the left way, and then return.”

“I think you should decide,” Ayla said

.

“I think Ayla’s right. You have a better sense of the distance, and you know how tired you are,” Jondalar said.

“I am a little tired, but I may never come here again,” Zelandoni said, “and tomorrow I can rest, either in camp, or with a horse dragging me on that seat thing you made. We’ll go straight ahead until we find the next place that could lead us closer to the Mother’s Sacred Underworld.”

“I think this whole cave is close to Her Underworld,” Ayla said, feeling a tingling sensation in the hand that had touched stone.