The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [46]
“Vorn! There you are! I should have guessed. You’re supposed to be helping Oga collect wood,” Aga said, seeing her son who had slipped away from the women and children. Vorn straggled after his mother, glancing back over his shoulder at his new idol. Brun had been watching the son of his mate with approval. It is the sign of a good leader, he thought, not to forget the boy just because he is still a child. Someday Vorn will be a hunter, and when Broud is leader, Vorn will remember a kindness shown to him as a child.
Broud watched Vorn trail behind his mother dragging his feet. Just the day before, Ebra had come for him to help with the chores, he remembered. He glanced at the women digging a pit and had an urge to sneak away so his mother wouldn’t see him, but then he noticed Oga looking in his direction. My mother can’t tell me what to do anymore. I’m not a child, I’m a man. She has to obey me now, Broud thought, puffing up his chest a little. She does, doesn’t she … and Oga is watching.
“Ebra! Bring me a drink of water!” he commanded imperiously, swaggering toward the women. He half expected his mother to tell him to get wood. Technically he wouldn’t be a man until after his manhood ceremony.
Ebra looked up at him, and her eyes filled with pride. That was her baby boy who had discharged his mission so effectively, her son who had reached the exalted status of manhood. She jumped up, went to the pool near the cave, and returned quickly with water, glancing haughtily at the other women as if to say, “Look at my son! Isn’t he a fine man? Isn’t he a brave hunter?”
His mother’s alacrity and her look of pride eased his defensiveness and disposed him to favor her with a grunt of acknowledgment. Ebra’s response pleased him almost as much as the demurely bowed head of Oga and the look of adoration he noticed as her eyes followed him when he turned to leave.
Oga had been grief-stricken over the death of her mother, following so soon after the death of her mother’s mate. As the only child of the pair, even though she was a girl she had been dearly loved by both. Brun’s mate was kind to her when she went to live with the leader’s family, sitting with them when she ate and walking behind Ebra while they were searching for a cave. But Brun frightened her. He was more stern than her mother’s mate had been; his responsibility lay heavily on his shoulders. Ebra’s main concern was for Brun and no one had much time for the orphaned girl while they were traveling. But Broud had seen her sitting alone staring dejectedly into the fire one evening. Oga was overwhelmed with gratitude when the proud boy, almost a man, who had seldom paid attention to her before, sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulder as she softly keened her grief. From that moment on, Oga lived with one desire: when she became a woman, she wanted to be given to Broud as his mate.
The late afternoon sun was warm in the motionless air. Not the hint of a breeze stirred the least leaf. The expectant hush was disturbed only by the drone of flies taking their turn at the remains of the repast and the sounds of the women digging a roasting pit. Ayla was sitting beside Iza as the medicine woman searched in her otter-skin pouch for the red bag. The child had been tagging behind her all day, but now there were certain rituals Iza had to perform with Mog-ur in preparation for the important role she had to play in the cave ceremony the next day, now that they were certain there would be one. She led the tow-headed girl toward the group of women excavating a deep hole not far from the cave mouth. It would be lined with rocks, with a large fire built inside that would burn all night. In the morning, the skinned and quartered bison, wrapped in leaves, would be lowered into the pit, covered with more leaves and a layer of soil, and left to cook in the stone oven until late afternoon.
The excavation was a slow and tedious process. Pointed digging sticks were used to break up the soil that was scooped