The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [29]
Mog-ur waited anxiously, leaning heavily on his staff. As Brun and Grod stepped out of the dark opening, the magician was surprised. It was not usual for Brun to be so agitated. At a gesture, Mog-ur followed the two men back into the dark passage. When they reached the small room, Grod held up the torch. Mog-ur’s eyes narrowed as he saw the pile of bones. He rushed forward, his staff clattering to the floor as he dropped to his knees. Scrambling through the pile, he saw a large oblong object, and pushing the other bones aside, he picked up a skull.
There was no doubt. The high-domed frontal arch of the skull matched the one Mog-ur carried in his cloak. He sat back, held the huge cranium up to eye level, and looked into the dark eye holes with disbelief, and reverence. Ursus had used this cave. From the quantity of bones, cave bears had hibernated here for many winters. Now, Mog-ur understood Brun’s excitement. It was the best of all possible signs. This cave had been the dwelling place of the Great Cave Bear. The essence of the massive creature whom the Clan revered above all others, honored above all others, permeated the very rock of the cave walls. Luck and good fortune were assured to the clan that lived there. From the age of the bones, it was clear the cave had been uninhabited for years, just waiting for them to find it.
It was a perfect cave, well-situated, spacious, with an annex for secret rituals that could be used winter and summer; an annex that breathed with the supernatural mystery of the Clan’s spiritual life. Mog-ur was already envisioning ceremonies. This small cave would be his domain. Their search was over, the clan had found a home—providing the first hunt was successful.
As the three men left the cave the sun was shining, the clouds in rapid retreat, blown away by a sharp wind that came from the east. Brun took it as a good sign. It wouldn’t have mattered if the clouds had split asunder in a deluge of rain complete with lightning and thunder; he would have taken it as a good sign. Nothing could have dampened his elation or dispelled his feeling of satisfaction. He stood on the terrace in front of the cave and looked out at the view from the mouth. Ahead, between a cleft formed by two hills, he could see a broad shimmering expanse of open water. He hadn’t realized they were so close, and it triggered a memory that solved the puzzle of the rapidly warming temperature and unusual vegetation.
The cave was in the foothills of a chain of mountains at the southern tip of a peninsula that jutted halfway into a midcontinent inland sea. The peninsula was connected in two places to the mainland. The primary connection was a broad neck to the north, but a narrow strip of salt marsh formed a tie to the high mountainous land to the east. The salt marsh was also a swampy outlet channel for a smaller inland sea on the northeastern edge of the peninsula.
The mountains at their back protected the coastal strip from the frigid winter cold and fierce winds generated by the continental glacier to the north. Maritime winds, moderated by unfreezing waters of the sea, created a narrow temperate belt at the protected southern tip and provided enough moisture and warmth for the dense hardwood forest of broad-leafed deciduous trees common to cold temperate regions.
The cave was in an ideal location; they had the best of both worlds. Temperatures were warmer than any that prevailed in the surrounding area and there was an abundance of wood to supply fuel for warmth during the freezing winter months. A large sea was close at hand, filled with fish and seafood, and cliffs along the shore were home to a nesting colony of seabirds and their eggs. The temperate forest was a forager’s paradise of fruits,