"I don't think so, though her spirit may still linger," Kareja said. "It has been here a long time. Some ancestor made it, we don't know who."

The last thing Ayla was shown was the dock with two rafts tied to it, and a working area where another raft was being built. She would have liked to stay longer and learn more, but Joharran was in a hurry and Jondalar had said he had to make some preparations as well. Ayla didn't want to stay by herself, especially on her first visit, but she did promise to return.the talus, and one that had fallen down. An old sleeping roll, so worn that most of the fur was gone, had been tossed against the back wall. The black circular remains of a few fireplaces were evident, two of them encircled by stones and one with two forked sticks planted in the ground across from each other, used, Ayla was sure, to support meat spitted for roasting.

Ayla thought she saw a few wisps of smoke coming from one hearth, and she was surprised. The place seemed to be abandoned, yet it looked as though it had been used recently.

"What Cave lives here?" she asked.

"No Cave lives here," Joharran said.

"But all of them use it," Jondalar added.

"Everyone uses this place occasionally," Willamar said. "It's a place to get out of the rain, or for a group of youngsters to gather, or for a couple to be alone at night, but no one lives here permanently. People just call it 'The Shelter.'"said, slowing down to let Jondalar catch up.

"Yes," he said as they approached a fork in the path just beyond the sheer wall. The fork headed back the way they had come but angled up.

"Where does that path go?" she asked.

"To some caves that are high up in that steep wall we just passed," he said. She nodded.

After a few yards, the trail going north led to a valley oriented in an east- west direction that was enclosed by cliffs. A small stream ran down the middle of the valley into The River, which at that point was flowing almost exactly north to south. So narrow that it was very nearly a gorge, the valley nestled between two steep embankments: High Rock, the vertical cliff just passed on the south, and a second mass of rock of even more grand pro- portions on the north.

"Does that have a name?" Ayla asked.Jondalar could tell from his expression that his brother really didn't want to stop again, though he knew it would be very impolite to refuse. Mar- thona, too, could read his expression and jumped in, not willing to let her son make a blunder that might antagonize a good neighbor just because he thought he had to hurry back. Whatever his plans, they weren't that impor- tant.

"Of course," she said. "We'd love to stop for a while. We can't stay long this time. We have to get ready for the hunt, and Joharran has some things he must do."

"How did he know we were passing by just now?" Ayla asked Jondalar as they walked up the path that ran beside Fish Creek and approached their settlement.

"Remember that fork in the path that headed up to caves in High Rock?"

he said. "Brameval must have had a watcher up there, and when he saw us coming, he just ran down and told him."

Ayla saw a crowd of people waiting for them and noticed that the sec- tions of the huge blocks of limestone that faced the creek held severalfrom either side by means of a gradual ramp into which a narrow path of shallow steps had been carved out along the wall. A small hole in the cliff wall above had been slightly enlarged and could be used as a lookout or a smoke hole. A portion of the front opening of the stone shelter was pro- tected from the elements by a wall of piled limestone shards.

The visitors from the Ninth Cave were invited into the primary living site of the small valley community and offered a cup of tea, which was already made. Chamomile, Ayla determined after taking a taste. Wolf was obvi- ously curious to explore this new stone shelter-probably no more so than Ayla-but she kept him at her side. Everyone knew of the wolf who obeyed the woman, of course, and many had already seen him, but from a dis- tance. It was obvious to her that it was more unnerving to have him inside their home.

She introduced Wolf to Brameval's sister and their Zelandoni while the others looked on. Even though the Ninth Cave were close friends with the Fourteenth, everyone knew it was the stranger, Ayla, who was the focus of attention. After the introductions, and a second round of tea, there was the uncomfortable silence of strangers not quite knowing what to do or sayWith some relief, the visitors from the Ninth Cave and several people from the Fourteenth filed down the steps carved along the wall, as children jumped off the front. While the large shelter was the main home of the Fourteenth Cave, two other small rock shelters next to each other at the foot of the south-facing cliff were also used.

They stopped at a small shelter just a few feet away. "This is the Shelter of the Salmon," Brameval said, leading the way into a small, nearly circular enclosure about twenty feet across.

He pointed up. Ayla looked and saw sculptured in low relief on the vaulted ceiling a life-size salmon almost four feet long, carved with the hooked jaws of a male swimming upstream to spawn. It was part of a more complex scene, containing in addition a rectangle divided by seven lines, the forelegs of a horse, and other enigmatic markings and engravings, along with a negative handprint picked out of a black background. The en- tire vault had substantial areas of solid red and black color used to accent the engravings.

They made a rather quick tour of the rest of Little Valley. In the south- west, opposite the large rock shelter, was a rather spacious cave, and indemonstrated her appreciation. They were also getting accustomed to the wolf, especially since Ayla was careful to keep him under control. Several people encouraged the visitors, or at least Ayla, to stay for a meal.

"I would like to," Ayla said, "but not this time. I'd love to come back, though."

"Well, before you go, I'll show you our weir," Brameval said. "It's on the way to The River."

He led the rather large group that had gathered, including the visitors, to a permanent dammed fish trap that had been constructed in Fish Creek.

The waterway that ran through the narrow valley was a salmon-spawning stream, where adult fish returned every year. By making various adapta- tions, the weir was an effective way to catch many of the other varieties of fish that also found the small stream tempting. But most prized were the huge salmon, up to five feet in length although four feet was more common for an adult male.

"We also make fishing nets to catch fish, especially from The River,"

Brameval said.often come this far upstream. Salmon do, of course, and their eggs are good, too, they're bigger and bright-colored, almost red. I prefer the fish to the eggs, though. I think salmon like red. Did you know male salmon get red when they're swimming upstream? I'm not as familiar with sturgeon. I understand they can get quite big."

"Jondalar caught one of the biggest sturgeon I've ever seen. I think it was longer than two of him," Ayla said, turning to smile at the tall man, and with a twinkle in her eye she added, "It gave him quite a ride."

"Unless you are planning to stay here, I think Jondalar will have to tell that story later," Joharran interjected.

"Yes, later," Jondalar said. The story was a little embarrassing, and he wasn't eager to tell it, anyway.

They continued talking about fishing as they walked together back to- ward The River. "When people like to fish by themselves, they often use a gorge. You know how it works, don't you?" Brameval asked. "You take a small piece of wood, sharpen it at both ends, and tie a fine cord in the mid- dle," he was eagerly explaining, using his hands as he talked. "I usuallyThe leader looked slightly embarrassed. "Ayla fishes, too, Brameval." The man smiled at the woman. "She can catch fish with her bare hands."

"Yes, she told me," Brameval said. "It must be difficult."

"It takes a lot of patience, but it's not hard," Ayla said. "I'll show you sometime."

After leaving the narrow gorge of Little Valley, Ayla noticed that the huge mass of limestone called Big Rock, which formed the north side of the Fourteenth Cave's small vale, soared up steeply, but unlike High Rock, it did not crowd close to The River. After several yards the path widened out as the tall limestone walls that lined the right bank pulled back from the edge of the water until a large field separated the stone walls from the flowing river.

"This is called the Gather Field," Jondalar said. "It's another place that's used by all the Caves around here. When we all want to get together for a gathering, like a feast or a meeting to let everyone know something, this place is big enough to hold us. We sometimes use it after a big hunt to dry the meat for winter. I suppose if there was a stone shelter here or a usableare all kinds of lookout perches and a spectacular view of The River Val- ley."

"The youngsters still do," Willamar said.

Beyond the Gather Field and just downstream from the Ninth Cave, an- other ridge of limestone cliffs crowded close to The River. Here, the forces that had eroded the stone of the cliff had created a rounded bulging ap- pearance that rose to the top, and like all the limestone cliffs and over- hangs, the warm yellowish natural color of the stone was streaked with shades of dark gray.

The trail climbed up a rather steep slope from The River to a sizable level terrace that extended beyond a row of substantial rock shelters, sepa- rated in places by sheer rock walls that had no protective overhangs. From the south, several simple structures of hide and wood were seen under the bulging overhang of rock shelters. They were constructed in the pattern of a longhouse, with a row of hearths down the middle paralleling the cliff wall.

Two fairly large stone shelters at the northern end of the terrace, about fifty yards apart, were almost contiguous with the enormous overhanging"No Cave really claims it," Jondalar said. "It's called Down River, proba- bly because it's just downriver from the Ninth Cave. The runoff of the spring that rises out of the back wall has worn through the stone porch that makes a natural division between the Ninth Cave and Down River. We made a bridge to connect the two places. The Ninth Cave probably uses it more than any other, but all of the Caves use it."

"What do they use it for?" Ayla asked.

"For making things. It's a place to work. People come here to work on their crafts, especially crafts that use hard materials."

Ayla noticed then that the whole terrace of Down River, but especially within and around the area of the two northernmost abris, was littered with a refuse of ivory, bone, antler, wood, and stone from knapping flint and making tools, hunting weapons, and various implements.

"Jondalar, I'm going on ahead," Joharran said. "We're almost home and I know you want to stay here and tell Ayla all about Down River."tools out of the hard siliceous stone, was all over. "Well," he smiled, "that was the original idea."

He told her that most of the stone tools made here were taken to the second rock shelter to be attached to handles made out of other materials such as wood or bone, and many of those would then be used to make other things out of the same hard materials, but there were no hard and fast rules about what was made where. They often worked together.

For example, the worker who shaped flint into a knife blade often col- laborated closely with the one who made the handle for it, perhaps chipping a bit more off the tang of the blade to fit into the handle better, or suggest- ing that the haft be modified or thinned for better balance. Or the shaper of a bone spear point might ask the flint-knapper to sharpen a tool or suggest a way to rework it to make it easier to use. Or the carver who decorated the handle or shaft might want a special chisel point, and only a skilled and experienced knapper could detach a burin-spall off the end of the flint im- plement at just the right angle to get the desired result.

Jondalar greeted a few crafters who were still around the second stone shelter at the north end of the terrace, working on some project, and intro-before tomorrow. If you recall, there were many more crafters here earlier today. The rest have either gone home or are staying with friends at the Ninth Cave."

"Does everyone come here to work on projects?" Ayla asked.

"Every Cave has a work site like this near their living area, usually smaller, but whenever crafters have a question or an idea to work out, they come here," Jondalar said.

He went on to explain that it was also where a young person was taken who had developed an interest and wanted to learn something about a particular craft. It was a good place to discuss things, such as the quality of flint from various regions and the best uses for each variety. Or to ex- change views about techniques about anything: how to cut down a tree with a flint axe, or remove suitable pieces of ivory from a mammoth tusk, or cut a tine off an antler, or bore a hole through a shell or a tooth, or shape and pierce beads, or rough out an approximate shape for a bone spear point. It was the place to discuss acquiring raw material and to plan trips or trading missions to get it.said, "especially since we don't have torches. Besides, if we are going hunting tomorrow, there's a few things we will need, too, and we'll be off early."

The sun had already set, though the last glimmerings of light colored the sky overhead when they finally headed down toward the bridge over the runoff creek from the spring. They crossed over to the end of the shelter of stone that was the home of Jondalar and his people, the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii. As the path leveled out, Ayla noticed that the light from several fires ahead was reflected off the underside of the limestone overhang. It was a welcoming sight. For all the protection of the animal Spirits that helped to define her, only people knew how to make fire.

It was still dark when they heard a light tap on the doorpost. "The zelan- donia are preparing the hunting ceremony," a voice said.

"We'll be right there," Jondalar said quietly.

They were already awake, but not dressed. Ayla had been fighting down a bit of nausea and trying to decide what to wear, not that she had much toanything she wanted. He looked up when he saw his mother coming out of her sleeping place.

"Mother, I hope we didn't wake you," Jondalar said.

"You didn't wake me. I still feel an edge of excitement just before a hunt, even though I haven't gone hunting for years," Marthona said. "I suppose that's why I like to be involved in the planning and the rituals. I'm going to the ceremony, too."

"We both are," Willamar said, stepping out from behind the screen that divided their sleeping room from the rest of dwelling.

"I'm coming, too," Folara said, her sleepy-eyed, tousled head looking around the edge of her screen. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. "I just need a little time to get dressed." Suddenly her eyes opened wide. "Ayla!

Are you wearing that?"

Ayla looked down at herself, then stood up straight. "This was given to me as a 'gift,'" she said with a touch of defensive belligerence, "and I intend to wear it. Besides," she added with a smile, "I don't have many clothes,Marthona studied Ayla carefully, then gave her a shrewd smile. "If Ayla wears that outfit," she said, "people will talk. Older women will disapprove, but under the circumstances, some will feel she's justified, and by this time next year, half the young women will be wearing the same thing."

Jondalar visibly relaxed. "Do you really think so, mother?"

He hadn't known what to say when he saw Ayla putting on the clothes.

Marona had given them to her for the sole purpose of causing her embar- rassment, but it occurred to him that if his mother was right-and Marthona was seldom wrong about such things-it would be Marona who would be not only embarrassed, but not allowed to forget it. Every time she saw someone wear such an outfit, it would remind her that her spiteful trick had not pleased anyone.

Folara was looking dumbfounded, glancing from her mother to Ayla, then back to Marthona again.

"You'd better hurry if you're coming, Folara," the older woman chided. "It will be daylight soon."Quite a number of people were already congregated on the front ledge when the residents of Marthona's dwelling, including the wolf, appeared.

Some were holding stone oil lamps, which shed just enough light in the dark for them to find their way but burned for some time; others held torches, which gave more light but burned out faster.

They waited a while longer until a few more people joined them, then the whole group started toward the south end of the abri. It was difficult to distinguish individuals or even see where they were going when they started out. The torches carried by some lighted the space around them, but made everything beyond the glow of the light seem blacker.

Ayla kept her hand on Jondalar's arm as they walked along the stone ledge, past the uninhabited section of the Ninth Cave's cliff overhang to the gully that separated the Ninth Cave from Down River. The small creek that ran through the trench-the runoff of the fresh spring welling up out of the back wall-was a handy source of water for the craftspeople when they were working, and during bad weather an extra source for the Ninth Cave as well.last of the crafters had long since retired to the sleeping lodges. The hunt- ing party passed by the lodges, then continued down the steep path to the Gather Field between High Rock and The River. From quite a distance away, they could see the large balefire in the middle of the field and people around it. When they drew near, Ayla noted that, like the torches, the fire lighted the space around it, but made it difficult to see beyond. Fire was wonderful to have at night, but there were limitations.

They were met by several of the zelandonia, including the One Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Mother, the Zelandoni of the Ninth Cave. The large woman greeted them and told them where they would stand for the ceremony. As she walked away, her broad silhouette almost blocked the light from the fire, but only for a moment.

More people were arriving. Ayla recognized Brameval in the firelight and realized it was a group from the Fourteenth Cave. She glanced up and was aware that the sky had definitely become deep blue. Then another group of people carrying torches appeared, Kareja and Manvelar among them. The Eleventh and Third Caves had arrived. Manvelar motioned to Joharran, then approached him."All right, let's tell Zelandoni," he said.

At a signal, everyone moved to an area between the fire and the rear of the field, facing the back wall. The closeness of the fire and the crowd of people raised the temperature, and Ayla savored the warmth. The exercise of walking to the Gather Field, at a fairly good pace in spite of the darkness, had served to keep her warm enough, but standing around waiting had caused her to begin to feel the chill. The wolf pressed against her leg; he was not happy having so many strange people so close. Ayla knelt down to reassure him.

The reflection of the large fire behind them danced on the rough vertical surface of the rock. Suddenly a loud wailing sounded and the staccato of drums. Then she heard another sound and felt the hair rising at the nape of her neck and a shiver down her spine. She had heard a sound like that only once before... at the Clan Gathering! She would never forget the sound of a bullroarer. It was the sound that called in the spirits!

She knew how the sound was made. It came from a flat, oval-shaped piece of wood or bone with a hole at one end by which a cord was at-Then her attention was caught by a movement in the fire's reflection on the wall that was more than firelight. A shadow in the shape of a giant deer with large palmate antlers and a hump on his withers had flickered through it.

She turned around and looked back but didn't see anything, and wondered if she had imagined it. She turned back to face the wall, and the antlered deer flickered through again, then a bison.

The bullroarer tapered off, but another sound had begun, at first so low that she was barely conscious of it. Then the low wailing chant increased in pitch and a heavy rhythmical booming began. The wailing interweaved in counterpoint to the swelling sound that reverberated off the back wall as both grew louder. Ayla's temples throbbed to the steady thrum, thrum, thrum, and her heart pounded in her ears at the same tempo and just as loud. It seemed that her limbs had turned to ice, and her legs refused to move; she was petrified. She broke out in a cold sweat. Then, abruptly, the pounding stopped and the wailing began to form words.

"O Spirit of the Giant Deer. We praise you."

"We praise you..." Voices around her repeated the phrase, but they were not quite all together."We call you."

"Immortal Soul, no death you fear. We praise you."

"We praise you." The voices were louder now.

"Your mortal lives are drawing near, we call you."

The tone was growing high-pitched, expectant.

"We call you." The voices were louder still.

"Give them to us and shed no tear. We praise you."

"We praise you."

"The Mother wills it, do you hear? We call you."

Now it was demanding.The hunters kept repeating in a low, monotonous drone in rhythm with the deep booming drum, "We call you. We call you. We call you. We call you."

"Give them to us! Shed no tear!"

"The Mother wills it. Hear! Hear! Hear!" the voices nearly screamed.

Suddenly a light seemed to turn on, and a loud wailing cry was heard that ended in a death rattle.

"She hears!" the chanting voice said abruptly. All sound suddenly ceased. Ayla looked up, but the deer was gone. Only the first bright beam of light of the sunrise remained.

There was no sound or movement at first. Then Ayla became conscious of breathing and shuffling movements. The hunters appeared dazed and were looking around as though they had just awakened. Ayla heaved a great sigh, then knelt down again and hugged the wolf. When she looked up, Proleva was there, handing her a cup of hot tea.pick it up when we pass by the Eleventh Cave."

Ayla nodded, not quite sure how a disguise would be used to hunt giant deer.

Then she looked around to see who else was in the hunting party. She recognized Rushemar and Solaban and was not surprised. She would ex- pect to see the leader's advisers, the ones Joharran always turned to for assistance. She was startled to see Brukeval, then wondered why. He was, after all, a member of the Ninth Cave. Why shouldn't he hunt with them?

She was even more surprised to see Marona's friend Portula. But when the woman saw her, she flushed, stared for a moment, then turned away.

"I don't think Portula expected to see you wearing those clothes," Mar- thona said quietly to Ayla.

The sun was climbing the great blue vault, and the hunters set out quickly, leaving behind those who were not joining the hunt. As they headed toward The River, the warm sun dissipated the somber mood wrought by the ceremony, and the conversation, held in quiet whispers earlier in the morning, reached a more normal tone. They spoke seriouslybeauty of a momentary natural phenomenon. Twigs and leaves and blades of grass, highlighted by a beam of light, sparkled with the brilliance of every rainbow color, caused by the refraction of sunlight through the prisms of droplets. Even the symmetrical perfection of a spider's web, whose sticky strands were designed to capture that predator's quarry, had snared in- stead jeweled drops of condensed moisture along its slender threads.

"Jondalar, look," she said, calling his attention to the display. Folara stopped, too, then Willamar.

"I would take that as a favorable sign," the Trade Master said, smiling broadly before moving on.

Where The River widened, the water foamed and tumbled over its peb- ble-strewn bed, but parted around larger rocks, unable to entice them to join in the playful dance of Whitewater and shimmering ripples. The hunters started across The River at the broad shallows, stepping from stone to stone through the deeper middle. Some of the large rocks were brought there by a more turbulent stream of a different season during past years, and some were carried there recently to fill in the gaps left by nature. AsJondalar nodded. "That's a good idea. I'll come with you," he said, then turning to Willamar. "Will you tell Joharran we've gone back for the horses?

It won't take long."