The Plains of Passage - Jean M. Auel [468]
As Ayla looked more closely, what at first had struck her as a melange of rich clutter was resolving itself into areas dedicated to different tasks, often near to related tasks. It only seemed confusing initially because so many activities were going on.
She saw hides being cured in frames, and long shafts of spears, apparently in the process of being straightened, leaning against a crosspiece supported by two posts. Baskets in different stages of completion were stacked in another place, and thongs were drying stretched between pairs of bone posts. Long skeins of cordage hung from pegs pounded into crossbeams above unfinished nets stretched across a frame, and loosely woven netting in bundles on the ground. Skins, some dyed various colors, including many shades of red, were cut into pieces, and nearby, partially assembled articles of clothing were hanging.
She recognized most of the crafts, but near the clothing was an activity that was entirely unfamiliar. A frame held many strands of thin cord vertically, with a design partially formed from the material woven horizontally across them. She wanted to go over and look closer, and promised herself she would, later. Pieces of wood, stone, bone, antler, and mammoth ivory were in other places, carved into implements—ladles, spoons, bowls, tongs, weapons—most of them with carved and sometimes painted decorations. There were also small sculptures and carvings that were not utensils or tools. They seemed to be made for themselves or some purpose of which she wasn’t aware.
She saw vegetables and herbs hanging high from large frames with many crosspieces, and lower to the ground, meat drying on racks. Somewhat away from other activities was an area scattered with sharp stone chips; for people like Jondalar, she thought, flint knappers who made tools, knives, and spear points.
And everywhere she looked, she saw people. The community that lived under the spacious rock shelter was of a size to match the space. Ayla had grown up in a clan of less than thirty people; at the Clan Gathering, which occurred once every seven years, two hundred people came together for a short period, a huge assembly to her then. Though the Mamutoi Summer Meeting drew a much greater number, the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii alone, comprised of over two hundred individuals living together at this one place, was larger than the entire Clan Gathering!
Ayla didn’t know how many people were standing around watching them, but she was reminded of the time she had walked with Bran’s clan into that congregation of clans and felt all of them looking at her. They had tried to be unobtrusive, but the people who were staring as Marthona led Jondalar, Ayla, and a wolf to her living place weren’t so polite about it. They didn’t try to look down or glance away. She wondered if she would ever get used to living with so many people close by all the time; she wondered if she wanted to.
Turn the page to read an exciting preview from Jean M. Auel’s latest novel—
The Land of Painted Caves
Available spring 2011 from Crown Publishers
1
The band of travelers walked along the path between the clear sparkling water of Grass River and the black-streaked white limestone cliff, following the trail that paralleled the right bank. They went single file around the bend where the stone wall jutted out closer to the water’s edge. Ahead a smaller path split off at an angle toward the crossing place, where the flowing water spread out and became shallower, bubbling around exposed rocks.
Before they reached the fork in the trail, a young woman near the