The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [262]
“Willamar said you brought carvings,” Jondalar said.
“Yes. Here examples,” Conardi said.
He untied a pouch from his waist ties, opened the top, and poured out several mammoth ivory figures onto an unused platter. Ayla picked one up. It was a mammoth with some extra lines incised on it, whose reason was not clear, so she asked him.
“I do not know,” he said. “They always made that way. These not made by ancients, but made like ancients make, especially by young people who are learning.”
Next, Ayla picked up a long, slender figure, and when she looked closely, she knew it was a bird, but a bird like a goose flying through the air. It was so simple, yet so full of life. The next figure was like a lion standing on its hind legs—at least the head was and the top of its body, and the upper arms seemed to be feline—but the legs were human. And in front of what would be the long underbelly of a cat, if it wasn’t standing upright, was a clearly marked enlongated downward-pointing triangle, the pubic triangle, the unmistakable sign of a female. Though there were no human-like breasts, the figure was a lion woman.
The last figure was definitely a woman, though she had no head, just a carved hole through which a cord was strung. The breasts were huge and quite high. The arms ended with the indication of a hand with fingers. The hips were broad and the buttocks large, with the line dividing them sharply incised all the way around to the front, ending with such an exaggerated depiction of a vulva, the female organ was almost everted.
“I think this was made by a woman who has been through childbirth,” Ayla said. “That’s sometimes how it feels, like you are being split in two.”
“You may be right, Ayla. The breasts certainly appear to be full of milk,” said the First.
“Are you offering these for trade?” Willamar asked.
“No, these my own. I carry for luck, but if you want one or more, could get some made,” Conardi said.
“If it were me, I would get some extras made to take on trading missions. I’m sure they would trade well,” Willamar said. “Are you a Trade Master, Conardi?” He had noticed the man did not have a trader’s tattoo.
“I like travel, and trade some, but not Trade Master,” Conardi said. “Everybody trades, but we have not such occupation as specialty.”
“If you like to travel, you can make it be,” Willamar said. “It is what I’m training my apprentices to be. This may be my last long trading mission. I’m at an age where traveling is losing its appeal. I’m ready to settle down at home with my mate and her children and grandchildren, like that pretty little one.” He indicated Jonayla. “Some traders take their mates and families with them, but my mate was the leader of the Ninth Cave, and not as free to travel. So I always make sure I bring her something special. That’s why I was asking if your carvings were available for trading. But I’m sure I’ll find something when we go to the Southern Sea to trade for shells. Would you like to travel together with us?”
“When do you leave?” Conardi asked.
“Soon, but not before we see the Most Ancient Sacred Site,” Willamar said.
“Is good you do. Beautiful cave, most extraordinary paintings, but I see several times. I go ahead, tell them you coming,” Conardi said.
27
The entrance to the cave was quite large but not symmetrical, and more wide than high. The right side was taller; the left lower section had a projecting ledge over part of it, creating a sheltered area that offered some protection from rain, and from the occasional rain of pebbles that cascaded down the cliff. A cone-shaped mound of gravel had accumulated at the far left end of the cave’s mouth, falling from the rock face above, amassing on the ledge, and spilling over, creating a scree slope from the base of the cone that continued down the side of the cliff.
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