The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [260]
The next morning Jondalar went to see the Zelandonia who were both called First to tell them that Ayla wanted to stay in her tent and rest that day. Her throat still hurt from the attempted strangulation. All the local zelandonia had been discussing how to help the people, whether they should call another meeting, or wait until people came to them.
As Jondalar walked back, he was aware that people were watching him, but he didn’t care. And he didn’t hear the comments. Men admired his strength and his speed, his reaction had been so swift; the women just admired him. To have a man like that, so handsome, so quick to jump to his woman’s defense, who wouldn’t want such a man? If he had heard them talking, he wouldn’t have cared. He just wanted to get to his Ayla and make sure she was well, and that everything was all right.
But after a while it was the story of Balderan’s attack on Ayla and Jondalar’s quick defense that was told several times, not the resulting melee that ended in the beating death of three men, and quite possibly a fourth, although Gahaynar was holding on to life. The zelandonia had to decide how they were going to dispose of the bodies. It posed a dilemma. They didn’t want to honor them in any way; there would be no ceremony, but they did want to make sure their spirits were given back to the Mother. They ended up taking the bodies into the mountains and leaving them on the crest of a hill, exposed to every kind of scavenger.
The visitors from the nearby Caves spent a few more days camped in the field, then began to trickle away to get back into their normal routine now that the excitement was over. They would have many stories to tell about the visitors, the One Who Was First, and her acolyte who controlled a wolf and horses, and called up a two-headed snake, and who helped rid them of Balderan, but the versions of what happened to Balderan and his gang would likely be different depending upon what part each person had played in the events.
Ayla was getting restless and anxious to leave. She decided it was a good time to finish drying the bison meat—it would give her something to do—and laid out lines of cordage supported by sticks of wood, and built smoky fires in and around them. Insects like gnats were drawn to the raw meat, where they liked to lay eggs that could cause it to spoil. The smoke kept them away, and incidentally flavored the meat. Then she set about slicing the sections of bison into thin, uniform pieces. Before long, Levela joined her, then Jondecam and Jondalar. Jonayla wanted to help, so Ayla showed her how to cut the meat and gave her a section of the corded lines to hang her pieces up to dry. Willamar and his two assistants strolled into camp around midday, quite excited.
“After we leave here, we were thinking it might be a good idea to go south along this river until we reach the Southern Sea,” Willamar said. “After coming all this way, it would be a shame not to see it, and we’ve been told this is the time to trade for shells. They have many of the small round bead shells, and the pretty long dentalia, and some particularly nice scallop shells, even periwinkles, I’m told. We could keep some and trade some to the Fifth Cave.”
“What do we have to trade with them for the shells?” Jondalar asked.
“I was going to talk to you about that. Do you think you could find some good flint and make some blades and points to exchange for shells? And maybe some of that meat you are drying, Ayla?” Willamar said.
“How do you know this is the time to trade, and about all these shell beads?” Levela asked.
“A man from the north just arrived. You’ll have to meet him. He’s a trader, too, and he has some fascinating ivory carvings,” Willamar said.
“I knew a man who made ivory carvings,” Ayla said, a little wistfully.
Jondalar’s ears perked up. He knew that same ivory carver. He was a remarkable and talented artist, and the man to whom he almost