The shelters of stone - Jean M. Auel [239]
“You are welcome to stay, of course, but since it is barely midday, we thought you might want to continue,” the woman said.
“Who is here?” Joharran asked.
“Two oldsters who can’t make the trip—one can hardly get out of bed—and a woman who is close to giving birth. Zelandoni didn’t think it was safe for her to travel, she’s had trouble before. And, of course, these two hunters. They will stay until the moon is new.”
“You are First Acolyte of Zelandoni of the Fifth, I believe,” the One Who Was First said.
“Yes, I am. I stayed to help with the birth.”
“I thought I recognized you. Is there anything we can do to help?”
“I don’t think so. She’s not ready yet. It will be several days, and her mother and aunt stayed, too. She should be fine.”
Joharran called for a consultation with people from the Ninth Cave as well as from the Caves who had joined them. “The best places to set up camp may already be taken,” he said. “I think we should keep going rather than stop over here.” The others quickly agreed, and it was decided to push ahead.
The River’s course straightened out somewhat after the big S curve as it veered toward the northeast. There were several shelters that were home to small Caves along the next stretch of river. All but one had already left for the Summer Meeting, and that one joined them, falling in behind the party of travelers. Joharran became even more concerned about finding a desirable location for his large Cave to settle for the summer.
It surprised Ayla that there were so many people in the region, and so close together. Like the Zelandonii, the people she grew up with foraged for all their needs. They gathered, hunted, and fished for their food and clothing, used natural shelters they found, or manufactured protection from the elements, along with their tools and hunting weapons, out of the materials at hand. She understood at a deep intuitive level that if more people lived in a region than its resources could support, there would not be enough for all. Some would either have to move or do without. She realized that the land of the Zelandonii had to be extremely rich to provide for so many, but in an analytical corner of her mind, she could not help but wonder what would happen to people if things changed.
It was the reason the Summer Meeting was held at a different place every year. Such a large concentration of people depleted the resources of the immediate area, and it would need several years to recover. The meeting this year was not far from the shelter of the Ninth Cave, perhaps twenty miles upstream if they followed The River closely, but they had saved some of that distance by going more directly crosscountry from the Twenty-ninth Cave to the Fifth Cave.
The place they were heading was a little more than ten miles from Old Valley, and Joharran decided to try to make it without stopping overnight. He thought about calling a meeting to discuss it, to see if he could encourage them to hurry, but there were too many people, of different ages and abilities, and their pace was inevitably going to be as fast as the slowest of them could go. A meeting would just slow them down more. Instead, he thought he would try to push them a little more than usual without saying anything. If people started to complain, he would worry about stopping then. They did take a break for a midday meal, but when Joharran started out again, people fell in behind him.
It was not dark yet, but the sun was definitely going down, when The River angled right, close to a sloping hillside on the left bank—their right. They turned inland, away from the water, and ascended a moderate hill along a well-used path. As they climbed, a view of the surrounding countryside opened out, showing a wide panorama for some distance.
But when they reached the crest, Ayla caught her breath at the sight of a different view: an enormous horde of people in the valley below. She knew there were already