The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [274]
“I should tell you, Zelandoni Who Is First,” the Watcher said, “the last chamber along this axis that is going the length of the cave is rather difficult. It requires climbing up some high steps and stooping over to go through a place with a low ceiling, and there isn’t much to see except some signs, a yellow horse, and some mammoths at the end. You might want to think about it before proceeding.”
“Yes, I recall,” the First said. “I don’t need to see this last place this time. I’ll let the more energetic ones go ahead.”
“I’ll wait with you,” Willamar said. “I have seen it, too.”
When the group got back together, they all started to walk along the wall that had been on the right and was now on their left. They passed the panel of scraped mammoths and finally came to the black paintings that they had only glimpsed from a distance. As they approached the first of the images, the Watcher started humming again, and the visitors could feel the cave responding.
28
The first images Ayla was drawn to were the horses, though they were by no means the first paintings on the wall. She had seen some beautiful art since she had come to know that visual representations existed, but she had never seen anything like the horse panel on this wall.
In this humid cave, the surface of the wall was soft. In this place, through chemical and bacterial agents that neither she nor the artists could begin to understand, the surface layer of the limestone had decomposed into mondmilch, a material with a soft, almost luxurious texture, and a pure white color. It could be scraped off a wall with almost anything, even a hand, and underneath was a hard white limestone, a perfect canvas for drawing. The ancients who painted these walls knew it, and knew how to use it.
There were four horse heads, painted in perspective, one on top of another, but the wall behind them had been scraped clean, which gave the artist the opportunity to show the detail, and the individual differences of each animal The distinctive stand-up mane, the line of the jaw, the shape of the muzzle, an open or closed mouth, a flaring nostril, all were depicted with such accuracy, they seemed real.
Ayla turned to find the tall man to whom she was mated to share this moment with. “Jondalar, look at those horses! Have you ever seen anything like it? It’s like they’re alive.”
He stood behind her and put his arms around her. “I have seen some beautiful horses painted on walls, but nothing like this. What do you think, Jonokol?”
Jonokol turned to the First. “Thank you for taking me with you on this trip. For this alone, the entire Journey would be worth it.” He turned back to the painted wall. “And it’s not just the horses. Look at those aurochs, and those rhinoceroses fighting.”
“I don’t think they are fighting,” Ayla said.
“No, they do that before they share Pleasures, too,” Willamar said. He looked at the First and felt they shared the same experience. Although both of them had been here before, seeing the images through Ayla’s eyes was like seeing them for the first time.
The Watcher couldn’t erase her smile of smug satisfaction. She didn’t have to say, “I told you.” This was the best part of being a Watcher. Not seeing the work herself—she had seen it many times—but seeing the way people responded to it. Most people. “Would you like to see more?”
Ayla just looked at her and smiled, but it was the loveliest smile she had ever seen. She really is a beautiful woman, the Watcher thought. I can understand Jondalar’s attraction to her. If I were a man, I would be too.
Now that they had taken in the horses, Ayla could take the time to see the rest, and there was much more to see. The three aurochs to the left of the horses, mingled with the small rhinos, a deer, and below the confronting rhinos, a bison. On the right side of the horses there was an alcove, big enough for one at a time. Inside it were more horses, a bear or perhaps a big cat, an aurochs, and a bison with many