The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [153]
“Well, your totem is a Cave Lion,” Ayla said, “just like mine. I think your abelan can be anything you say it is. Why not an ermine? Ermines are feisty little weasels, but pretty in winter, all white except for their black eyes and the black tips of their tails. Actually, their brown summer coats are not bad, either.” She thought for a moment, then asked, “What is Shevonar’s abelan?”
“I saw one of his spears near his resting place,” Jondalar said. “I’ll get it and show you.”
He quickly got the spear and showed her Shevonar’s symbol mark. It was a stylized representation of a mouflon, a mountain sheep with large curved horns.
“I should take that with me,” Zelandoni said. “We’ll need it to make a copy of his abelan.”
“Why do you need to make a copy?” Ayla asked.
“The same symbol that marked his spears, clothing, and other posessions will mark his grave post,” Jondalar said.
As they walked back toward their dwellings, Ayla thought about the discussion and drew a few conclusions on her own. Though the symbol object, the elandon, itself was concealed, the symbol mark, the abelan, that had been made on it was known not only to the person it symbolized, but to everyone else. It did possess some power, especially for the one to whom it belonged, but not for someone who might want to misuse it. It was too well-known. Real power came from the unknown, the esoteric.
The following morning, Joharran rapped on the post beside the entrance to Marthona’s dwelling. Jondalar pushed the drape aside and was surprised to see his brother.
“Aren’t you going to the meeting this morning?” he asked.
“Yes, of course, but I wanted to talk to you and Ayla, first,” Joharran said.
“Come in, then,” Jondalar said.
Joharran stepped in and let the heavy entrance drape fall back. Marthona and Willamar came out of their sleeping room and greeted him warmly. Ayla was putting leftover food from breakfast into the wooden bowl she had designated as Wolf’s. She looked up and smiled.
“Joharran told me he wanted to talk to us,” Jondalar said, looking at Ayla.
“I won’t take much time, but I’ve been thinking about those spear-throwing weapons of yours. If more of us had been able to cast a spear from the distance you did, Jondalar, we might have been able to stop that bison before it trampled Shevonar It’s too late to help him, but I want the rest of the hunters to have that safety measure. Would you, both of you, be willing to show everyone how to make one of those, and how to use it?”
Jondalar smiled. “Of course we will. That’s what I was hoping all along. I could hardly wait to show how they work, so everyone could see their advantage.”
All of the residents of Marthona’s dwelling, except Folara, walked with Joharran to the meeting area near the south end of the huge abri. By the time they reached it, a good number of people had already arrived. Messengers had been sent to the Zelandonia of the Caves that took part in the hunt to meet and talk about the burial ceremony. Besides the spiritual leader of the Ninth, the Zelandonia of the Fourteenth Cave, the Eleventh, the Third, the Second, and the Zelandoni of the Seventh were there. Most of those to whom the people looked for leadership also made an appearance, as well as several others who were interested.
“The Spirit of the Bison has claimed one of us in return for her own,” the large donier said. “It is a sacrifice we must make if she demands it.” She looked at the people, who were nodding their heads in acknowledgment. Her commanding presence was never so evident as when she was with other Zelandonia. Then it became apparent that she was First Among Those Who Served The Mother.
As the meeting continued, a couple of the Zelandonia got into a small difference of opinion about a minor point,