The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [172]
“Yes, last summer at the Meeting,” Matagan said. “Before I was hurt.”
“Now that you are a man, it’s time for you to learn a skill. Have you done much flint knapping?”
“Some. I can make a spear point and a knife, or reshape one that is broken. They aren’t the best, but they work,” the boy said.
“Perhaps the question I should ask is, do you like working the flint?” Jondalar said.
“I like it when it goes right. Sometimes it doesn’t.”
Jondalar smiled. “Even for me, sometimes it doesn’t,” he said. “Have you eaten?”
“I just finished,” Matagan said.
“Well, we haven’t yet,” Jondalar said. “We just got back from a short trip to see some of our neighbors and find out if they suffered any injuries or damage from the earthquake. You know that Ayla is acolyte to the First, don’t you?”
“I think everyone knows that,” he said, shifting Jonayla around to lean against his shoulder.
“Did you feel the earthquake?” Ayla asked. “Was anyone in your traveling party hurt?”
“We felt it. Some people were knocked down, but no one was really hurt,” he said. “I think everyone was scared, though. I know I was.”
“I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t be afraid during an earthquake. We’ll get something to eat; then we’ll show you where you can stay. We haven’t set anything up special, yet, but we’ll work it out later,” Jondalar said as they headed toward the other side of the shelter where people were gathered.
Ayla reached for Jonayla.
“I can hold her while you get some food,” Matagan said. “If she’ll let me.”
“Let’s see if she will,” Ayla said, turning toward the firepit where the food had been set out. Suddenly Wolf appeared. He had stopped for water when they reached the Ninth Cave, and then found that someone had put some food in his bowl. Matagan’s eyes opened wider with surprise, but he had seen the wolf before and he didn’t seem overly frightened of the animal. Ayla had introduced the wolf to Matagan the year before when she was taking care of him, and the animal sniffed the young man who was holding the baby of his pack, and recognized his scent. When the boy sat down, the wolf sat down beside him. Jonayla seemed happy with the arrangement.
By the time they finished eating, it was getting dark. There were always some prepared torches ready for lighting near the main fire where the group often gathered and Jondalar took one and lit it. They all had traveling gear with them—backframes, sleeping rolls, traveling tents. Jondalar helped Ayla with some of hers, while she carried the baby, but Matagan seemed to be able to handle his own, including a sturdy staff that he sometimes used to walk with. He didn’t seem to need it all the time. Ayla suspected he had used it on the long walk from the Sun View, the place of the Summer Meeting, to the Ninth Cave, but probably could get by just fine for shorter distances.
When they reached their dwelling, Jondalar went in first, lighting the way, and held open the drape across the entrance. Matagan went in next, followed by Ayla.
“Why don’t you set up your sleeping roll here in the main room near the fire for now. We’ll work out something better tomorrow,” Jondalar said, suddenly wondering how long Matagan would be living with them.
Part Two
18
“Matagan, have you seen Jonayla and Jondalar?” Ayla called out when she saw the young man walking with a limp, coming out of the addition that had been built next to her dwelling. There were three youths living there now: Matagan; Jonfilar, who had come from the west, near the Great Waters; and Garthadal, whose mother was the leader of his Cave, and had traveled with him from far to the southeast because she had heard of Jondalar’s skill.
After four years, Matagan was the most senior of Jondalar’s apprentices and had gained so much proficiency that he was helping the man train the younger ones. He could have gone back to the Fifth Cave, or almost any other Cave, as an experienced flint-knapper in his own right, but by now he thought of the Ninth Cave as his home and preferred to stay and work with his mentor.