The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [150]
“Has anyone considered why a powerful male totem would choose a girl?” He answered his own rhetorical question. “Except for Ursus, the Cave Lion is the most powerful totem. The cave lion is more powerful than the mammoth; he hunts mammoth, only the young and old, but he does hunt mammoth sometimes. The cave lion does not hunt mammoth.”
“You’re not making sense, Goov. You say the cave lion hunts mammoth, then you say he doesn’t,” Brun gestured.
“He doesn’t, she does. We overlook that when we speak of protective totems; even the male cave lion is the protector. But who is the hunter? The largest meat eater of all, the strongest hunter is the lioness! The female! Is it not true she brings her kill to her mate? He can kill, but his job is to protect while she hunts.
“It’s curious that a Cave Lion would choose a girl, isn’t it? Has anyone ever thought that perhaps her totem is not the Cave Lion, but the Cave Lioness? The female? The hunter? Couldn’t that explain why the girl wanted to hunt? Why she was given a sign? Maybe it was the Lioness who gave her the sign, maybe that’s why she was marked on her left leg. Is it really more exceptional for her to hunt than it is for her to have such a totem? I don’t know if it’s true, but you must admit it’s reasonable. Whether her totem is Cave Lion or Cave Lioness, if she was meant to hunt, can we deny it? Can we deny her powerful totem? And do we dare condemn her for doing what her totem wishes?” Goov concluded. “I am finished.”
Brun’s head was whirling. Ideas were coming at him too fast. He needed time to think, to work it out. Of course it’s the lioness who hunts, but who ever heard of a female totem? The spirits, the essences of protective spirits are all male, aren’t they? Only someone who spends long days dwelling on the ways of the spirits would come to the conclusion that the totem of the girl who had been hunting was the hunter of the species that embodied her totem. But Brun wished Goov hadn’t brought up the idea of denying the wishes of so powerful a totem.
The whole concept of a woman hunting was so unique, so thought-provoking, that several of the men had been jarred into making the small incremental step that pushed the frontiers of their comfortable, secure, well-defined world. Each man spoke from his own viewpoint, from his own area of concern or interest, and each had pushed forward the frontier only in that one small area; but Brun had to embrace them all, and it was almost too much. He felt duty-bound to consider every aspect before he made a judgment, and he wished he had time to mull them over carefully. But a decision could not be held off much longer.
“Does anyone else have any more opinions?”
“Broud would speak, Brun.”
“Broud may speak.”
“All these ideas are interesting, and may give us something to think about on cold winter days, but the traditions of the Clan are clear. Born to the Others or not, the girl is Clan. Clan females may not hunt. They may not even touch a weapon, or any tool that is used to make a weapon. We all know the punishment. She must die. It makes no difference if long ago women once hunted. Because a she-bear hunts, or a lioness, doesn’t mean a woman may. We are neither bears nor lions. It makes no difference if she has a powerful totem or if she brings luck to the clan. It makes no difference if she is good with a sling or even that she saved the life of the son of my mate. I am grateful for that, of course—everyone has noticed I said so many times on the way back, I’m sure—but it makes no difference. The traditions of the Clan make no allowances. A woman who uses a weapon must die. We cannot change that. It is the way of the Clan.
“This whole meeting is a waste of time. There is no other decision you can make, Brun. I am finished.”
“Broud is right,” Dorv said. “It is not our place to change the traditions of the Clan. One exception leads to another. Soon there would be nothing we can count on. The punishment is death; the girl must die.”
There were a couple of