The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [212]
“An Ancestor, but not an ancient one. Let me show you some things you may not notice immediately,” the Seventh said, stepping up closer to the stone panel. He held his left hand up over the back of the left-facing horse and bent the joint of his thumb. When he held his hand beside a red outline, it was obvious that the negative space was not a handprint, but a bent thumb. Now that it had been pointed out, they could see that there were several outlines of bent thumbs along the back of the left-hand horse.
“Why was that done?” a young acolyte asked.
“You would have to ask the Zelandoni who painted it,” the Seventh replied.
“But you said it was done by an Ancestor.”
“Yes,” the Zelandoni said.
“But the Ancestor walks in the next world now.”
“Yes.”
“Then, how can I ask?”
The Seventh only smiled at the young man, who frowned and fidgeted. There were some titters of laughter from those watching, which suddenly made the young acolyte blush.
“I can’t ask, can I?”
“Perhaps when you learn to walk in the next world,” the First said. “There are some Zelandonia who can, you know. But it is very dangerous, and not all choose to.”
“I don’t believe everything on that panel was made by the same person,” Jonokol said. “The horses probably were, and the hands, and most of the dots, but I think some of them were added later, and the thumbs, and I think I see a red fish on top of that horse, but it’s not clear.”
“You may be right,” said the Seventh. “That’s very perceptive.”
“He is an artist,” Willamar said.
Ayla noticed that Willamar often tended to keep his opinions to himself, and wondered if that was something he had learned to do on his travels. When you traveled a lot and met many new people, it probably wasn’t wise to advance your own opinions on strangers too readily.
The Seventh showed them many other marks and paintings, including a human-like figure with lines either coming out of or going into his body, similar to those they had seen at the Fourth South Land Cave’s Sacred Site, but after the unusual horses, nothing else seemed to stand out, except for some formations far older than any of the paintings. Large disks of calcite naturally formed by the same actions that had created the cave itself decorated one room in the cave and were left alone in their own space without any embellishments added, as though they were decorations in their own right made by the Mother.
After they returned from visiting the Sacred Site, the First was anxious for them to be on their way again, but she felt she had to stay for a while to fulfill her role as the First Among Those Who Served The Great Mother, especially for the zelandonia. It wasn’t often that they had an opportunity to spend time with her. For some of the groups who lived within Zelandonii territory, the First was almost a mythical figure, a figurehead whom they acknowledged but seldom saw, and in reality, did not need to see. They were more than capable of performing their functions without her, but for the most part they were very pleased and excited to see her. It wasn’t as though they thought of her as the Mother Herself, or even the Mother incarnate, but she was definitely Her representative, and with her huge size, she was impressive. Having an acolyte who could control animals added to her stature. She had to stay a little longer.
During the evening meal, the Seventh sought out the visitors. He sat beside the First with his plate of food and smiled, then spoke softly to her. It wasn’t exactly a conspiratorial whisper, but Ayla was sure she would not have heard him if she hadn’t been sitting on the other side of the First.
“We have been talking about having a special ceremony at the Sacred Cave later tonight, and would like you and your acolyte to join us if you feel up to it,” he said.
The First smiled at him encouragingly. This might make her decision to stay a little longer a bit more interesting, she thought.
“Ayla, would you be interested in going to this special ceremony?”
“If you would like me to, I would be happy to join