The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [145]
The first image on the left was partly carved in the clay; the rest were incised into the stone, probably with a flint burin. Ayla noticed that there was a fine transparent covering of calcite on the frieze, an indication that it was already old. The projection was colored in part with a natural pigment of black manganese dioxide. The fragility of the surface was extreme; a small section of the carbonate material had flaked off, and another looked as though it would soon detach from the rest of the rock.
The central subject that dominated the frieze was a magnificent reindeer, with the head raised and antlers extended back, and carefully drawn details like the single eye, the line of the mouth, and the nostril. The flank was marked with nine cuplike holes parallel to the line of its back. Behind it, facing in the opposite direction, was another partial animal, probably a deer, or perhaps a horse, with another line of engraved holes running across the body. On the far right of the panel was a lion, and between them a series of animals, including horses and a mountain goat. Under the chin of the central figure, and utilizing the same line as the neck of the reindeer, was the head of a horse. In the lower part of the panel, below the main figures, was an engraving of another horse. In all, Ayla used the counting words to tally nine fully or partially drawn animals.
“This is as far as we need to go,” Shevola said. “If we go straight, it just ends. There is another very tight passage to the left, but once you get through it there’s nothing except another little room that also just ends. We should go back.”
“Do you ever do ceremonies or rituals when you come here?” Ayla asked as she turned around and stroked the wolf, who was patiently waiting.
“The ritual was the making of these images,” the young acolyte said. “The person who came here, perhaps once, or maybe more times, was making a ritual Journey. I don’t know, it may have been a Zelandoni, or an acolyte becoming a Zelandoni, but I can imagine that it was someone who felt a need to reach for the Spirit World, for the Great Earth Mother. There are some sacred caves that are meant for people to visit and conduct rituals, but I think this was done as a personal Journey. In my mind I try to acknowledge that person when I come here, in my own private way.”
“I think you are going to be a very good Zelandoni,” Ayla said. “You are already so wise. I was feeling the need to recognize this place and the one who created this work. I think I will follow your advice and reflect on it and the one who made it, and offer a personal thought to Doni, but I would like to do more, perhaps reach for the Spirit World, too. Have you ever touched the walls?”
“No, but you can if you want.”
“Will you hold my torch?” Ayla asked.
Shevola took the torch and held both of them high to shed more light in the tiny cramped cave. Ayla reached up with both hands outstretched and put them palm down on the wall, not on any of the engravings or paintings, but near them. One hand felt the wet clay, the other the rough surface of the limestone. Then she closed her eyes. It was the clay surface that first gave her a tingling feeling; then a sense of intensity seemed to flow out of the rock wall. She wasn’t sure if it was real or if she was imagining it.
For an instant, her thoughts flashed back to when she was living with the Clan and her trip to the Clan Gathering. She had been the one who was required to make the special drink for the mog-urs. Iza had explained the process to her. She had to chew the hard, dry roots, and spit the mash into the water in the special bowl, then stir it with her finger. She wasn’t supposed to swallow any, but she couldn’t help it, and she felt the effects. After Creb tasted it, he must have thought it was too strong, and gave each mog-ur less to drink.
After she consumed the women’s special drink and danced with them, she went back and found the bowl with some of the white milky