The Land of Painted Caves - Jean M. Auel [327]
Of course, nothing kept anyone from avoiding a penalty by simply packing up and moving away, but other Caves usually learned about most separations sooner or later, and did not hesitate to exert social pressures as well. He or she would not be driven out, but would not be made very welcome either. A person would have to live alone, or move far away to avoid the penalties, and most people didn’t want to be alone or live with strangers.
In the case of Dalanar, he had been more than willing to pay his penalty and then some. He didn’t have another woman, and in fact still loved Marthona; he just couldn’t bear to stay with her anymore when so much of her time and attention was directed toward the needs of the Ninth Cave. He traded belongings in order to pay the full penalty as soon as possible so he could leave, but he hadn’t planned to stay away. He wanted to go only because the situation was too distressing for him to remain, and once he did leave, he just kept going until he found himself in the mountain foothills some distance to the east, where he stumbled across the flint mine, and stayed.
Ayla was still wide awake when Jonayla and Wolf came into the tent. She got up to help her daughter get ready for bed. After some attention from her, Wolf went to the place she had set out for him, using his blankets. She greeted some others who had just come into the large, sturdy, not-quite-permanent structure designed to sleep several, or to keep them dry when it rained.
“Where were you, mother?” Jonayla asked. “You weren’t here when I came back with Zelandoni.”
“I was out riding Whinney,” Ayla explained. To the young girl who loved nothing more than riding her horse, the explanation was sufficient.
“Can I go out with you tomorrow? I haven’t ridden Gray for a long time.”
“How long?” Ayla asked with a smile.
“This many days.” Jonayla held out two fingers on one hand and three fingers on the other. She didn’t quite have the concept of counting yet, especially relating numbers of fingers to numbers of days.
Ayla smiled. “Can you say the counting words for how many that is?” She touched each finger to help her.
“One, two, four …,” Jonayla began.
“No, three, and then four.”
“Three, four, five!” Jonayla finished.
“That’s very good!” Ayla said. “Yes, I think we can go riding together tomorrow.”
Children were not separated from adults and regularly taught in an organized way. They learned by observation and trial of adult activities, for the most part. Young children were with a caring adult most of the time, until they showed a desire to explore on their own, and whenever they expressed a desire to try something, they were usually given a tool and shown how. Sometimes they’d find their own tool and try to copy someone. If they really showed an aptitude or desire, child-size versions might be made for them, but they weren’t toys so much as smaller-size fully functional tools.
The exception was dolls; it was not easy to create a small-size fully functional baby. Both girls and boys were given replicas of humans of various sizes and shapes when they were young, if they wanted them. In addition, real babies were often cared for by only slightly older siblings, usually under the watchful eye of an adult.
Community activities always included children. They were all encouraged to join in on the dancing and singing that were a part of various festivals, and some became quite good and were encouraged. Mental concepts like counting words were usually picked up incidentally, through storytelling, games, and conversation, although one or more of the zelandonia would occasionally take a group of children off to explain or show some particular concept or activity.
“Usually I go riding with Jondy,” Jonayla said. “Can he come, too?”
Ayla hesitated a moment. “I suppose, if he wants to.”
“Where is Jondy?” Jonayla said,