The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [166]
As they started to lead the horses under the overhanging ledge toward their space, Ayla wondered if they would balk the way they had the night before. But the place was familiar to them and they apparently sensed no danger. They went right in, which gave her an immense feeling of relief. There is really no protection when the earth decides to shake, inside or out, but if the horses were to give her a warning again, she did think she would rather be outside.
They unhitched the two pole-drags and left them in their usual place, then led the horses to the corrals that they had made for them. They were not penned in. The structures they had constructed under the overhanging ledge were there for the animals’ comfort; they were free to come and go at any time. Ayla brought water from the spring-fed stream that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River, and poured it into their troughs, although the horses could just as easily have gotten water from the stream themselves. She wanted to make sure that water was available in the middle of the night, especially for the little one.
Only during the spring rutting season were there any constraints on the horses. Then not only did they fasten the gates closed, put halters on the animals, and tie them to posts to keep them from getting free, but Ayla and Jondalar usually slept nearby to drive away the stallions that were drawn to the mare. Ayla didn’t want Whinney to be captured by some stallion and driven to his herd, and Jondalar didn’t want Racer running off to be hurt fighting with other stallions in an effort to mount the tempting females. He even had to be kept away from his dam, whose mating scent was so overpoweringly close. It was a difficult time for all of them.
Some hunters took advantage of Whinney’s luring aroma, which could be detected by males more than a mile away, and killed a few of the wild horses, but they stayed out of sight of Ayla and made sure not to mention it to her. She was aware of the practice and couldn’t really blame them. She had lost her taste for horsemeat, and chose not to eat it, but she knew most people enjoyed it. Just so long as they didn’t go after her horses, she didn’t object to others hunting the animals. They were a valuable food source.
They walked back to their own dwelling and unloaded their belongings. Although they hadn’t been gone very long, not even as long as usual for a Summer Meeting, Ayla was happy to be back. Visiting other Caves and Sacred Sites along the way seemed to have taken more time than normal, and the effort left her tired. The earthquake had been particularly draining. She shuddered at the thought of it.
Jonayla had been fussing and she brought the baby to the changing place just outside the dwelling; then she went inside and settled down to nurse, happy to be there. The structure had rawhide-panel walls but no ceiling, at least none that was constructed. When she looked up, she saw the underside of the overhanging rock of the natural stone shelter. She could smell food cooking and knew they would share a meal with some of their usual community, and then she’d be able to crawl into her bedroll and cuddle up between Jondalar and Jonayla, with Wolf just beyond. She was glad to be home.
“There’s a Sacred Cave nearby that you haven’t really explored, Ayla,” Zelandoni said while they were sharing their morning meal the day after their return. “The one we call the Women’s Place, on the other side of Grass River.”
“But I’ve been to the Women’s Place,” Ayla said.
“Yes, you’ve been there, but how far in did you go? There is much more to it than you’ve seen. It’s on the way to Horsehead Rock and Elder Hearth. I think we should make a stop on our way back.”
Ayla found the visits to the Sacred Caves fascinating, but it was exhausting, and she had seen so many recently, she was tired of visiting decorated caves. It was too much to take in all at once. She