The clan of the cave bear_ a novel - Jean M. Auel [78]
They all felt sorry for the mother who had lost her son in the cave-in. They all knew how she had grieved. Ebra tactfully changed the subject.
“I wonder how winters will be at this new cave.”
“Hunting has been good, and we’ve gathered so much and put it away, there’s plenty of food stored. The hunters are going out today, probably for their last time. I hope there’ll be room enough in the cache so we can freeze it all,” Ika said. “And it looks like they’re getting impatient. We’d better go make them something to eat.”
The women reluctantly left Iza and her baby and went to prepare the morning meals. Ayla sat down beside Iza and the woman put her arm around the girl, holding the baby in the other. Iza was feeling good—glad to be outside on this brisk, cold, sunny, early winter day; glad her child was born, and healthy, and a girl; glad for the cave and that Creb had decided to provide for her; and glad for the thin, blonde, strange girl beside her. She looked at Uba and then Ayla. My daughters, the woman thought, and they are both my daughters. Everyone knows Uba will be a medicine woman, but Ayla will be one, too. I’ll make sure of that. Who knows, maybe someday she will be a great medicine woman.
9
“The Spirit of Light Dry Snow took the Spirit of Granular Snow as his mate and after a time she gave birth to a Mountain of Ice far to the north. The Sun Spirit hated the glittering child spreading across the land as he grew, keeping away his warmth so no grass could grow. The Sun decided to destroy Ice Mountain, but Storm Cloud Spirit, the sibling of Granular Snow, found out the Sun wanted to kill her child. In the summer when the Sun was most powerful, Storm Cloud Spirit fought with him to save Ice Mountain’s life.”
Ayla was sitting with Uba in her lap watching Dorv tell the familiar legend. She was captivated, though she knew the story by heart. It was her favorite, she never got tired of it. But the restless year-and-a-half-old toddler in her arms was far more interested in Ayla’s long blonde hair and grabbed chubby handfuls of it. Ayla untangled her hair from Uba’s clenched fists without taking her eyes off the old man who stood near the fire, retelling the tale in dramatic pantomime as the clan eagerly watched.
“On some days the Sun won the battle and beat down on the hard, cold ice, turning it to water, draining Ice Mountain’s life away. But many days Storm Cloud won, covering the face of the Sun, keeping his heat from melting the Ice Mountain too much. Though Ice Mountain starved and shrunk in summer, in winter his mother took the nourishment her mate brought and nursed her son back to health. Every summer the Sun struggled to destroy Ice Mountain, but Storm Cloud kept the Sun from melting all that the mother had fed her child the winter before. At the beginning of each new winter, Ice Mountain was always a little bigger than he had been the winter before; he grew larger, spread farther, covered more land every year.
“And as he grew, a great cold went before him. The winds howled, the snow swirled, and Ice Mountain spread, creeping closer to the place where the People lived. The Clan shivered, huddling close to the fire while the snow fell on them.”
The wind whistling through the bare-limbed trees outside the cave added sound effects to the story, sending a sympathetic shiver of excitement down Ayla’s spine.
“The Clan didn’t know what to do. ‘Why are the spirits of our totems no longer protecting us? What have we done to make them angry with us?’ The mog-ur decided to go off by himself to find the spirits and talk to them. He was gone a long time. Many people became restless waiting for the mog-ur to return, especially the younger ones.
“But Durc was more impatient than anyone. ‘The mog-ur will never come back,’ he said. ‘Our totems don’t like the cold, they have gone away. We should leave, too.’
“ ‘We cannot leave our home,’ the leader said. ‘This is where the Clan has always lived. It is the home of our ancestors. It is the home of the spirits