"I will look for Folara and ask her to watch him when I bring the red ochre," Ayla said.

Wolf followed along behind her as she walked down the path toward the place where she and Jondalar had gone swimming and cleaned them- selves shortly after they arrived. She filled the basket nearly full, then started back up the path. She saw Folara talking to her mother and ex- plained Zelandoni's request. The young woman grinned, delighted to stay with the wolf. Her mother had just asked her to come and help prepare theThen she walked to the far end of the ledge and gave the red ochre to the First. She stayed to help clean and dress the body of Shevonar. Jon- dalar's mother soon came to help as well-she had done it many times before-and told Ayla that Folara had invited several young people to their dwelling, and Wolf seemed content to be with them.

Ayla was intrigued by the clothing they put on the dead hunter, though she was reluctant to mention her interest at the time. The outfit consisted of a loose, soft tunic made of the furs of different animals, and hides tanned and colored in various shades that were sewn together into intricate pat- terns and accented with beads, shells, and fringes. The tunic was bloused and belted at the hips with a colorful band of woven fabric. The leggings, though less elaborate, matched the tunic, as did the calf-high foot cover- ings, which had a fringe and an edging of fur attached to the tops. Neck- laces made of shells, beads, various animal teeth, and ivory carvings had been placed around his neck and artfully arranged.

Then the body was laid out on blocks of limestone, on top of a large, somewhat flexible blanket-size mat of grasses woven with designs that were colored with red ochre. Long cords were strung through each end, which, Marthona explained to Ayla, could be pulled together so that the matpoints, and the sinew, cords, and glue used to attach them. The sinew and cords were used to fasten the points to the shafts, and to bind sections of shorter pieces of wood together to make longer spears, which were then cemented with resinous pitch or glue.

Relona had brought the things from their dwelling, and she sobbed with grief when she placed Shevonar's favorite shaft-straightener within easy reach of his right hand. It was made of an antler of a red deer, the stem part, from the horn core at the head to the first branching tines. After the tines had been cut off, a good-size hole was bored through the wide end where the antler had begun to branch out. Ayla recognized that it was similar to the tool Jondalar had brought back with them that had belonged to his brother Thonolan.

Depictions of animals, including a stylized mountain sheep with large horns, and various symbols had been carved into the device. She recalled Jondalar saying that they lent potency to the shaft-straightener so that the spears made with it would fly straight and true, and would have a compel- ling attractiveness to the animal at which they were aimed, to make a clean kill. That they also added a pleasing aesthetic touch was appreciated.When they finished, everyone who had touched or handled or worked close to the man whose life-force had left his body had to be ritually cleaned themselves. Water was the element that was used, and flowing water was considered best for this particular cleansing. They were all re- quired to immerse themselves completely in The River.

Whether they undressed or were fully clothed didn't matter. They fol- lowed the path down to The River bank below the stone shelf. The Zelan- donia invoked the Great Mother, then the women went upstream a ways, and the men downstream. All of the women removed their clothing, but a few of the men jumped in, clothing and all.

Jondalar had helped build the burial shelter. He and the others who had erected the shelter around the body were also required to be purified in The River. Afterward he walked with Ayla back up the path. Proleva had ar- ranged to have a meal ready for them. Marthona sat with Jondalar and Ayla, and Zelandoni joined them after a while, leaving the grieving widow with her family. Willamar came looking for Marthona and sat with them, also. While she was with people with whom she felt comfortable, Ayla thought this would be a good time to ask about the clothing they had put on Shevonar's body.the right impression there, and they want whoever they meet to know who they are," Marthona said.

"I didn't think clothes went to the next world," Ayla said. "It's the spirit that goes. The body stays here, doesn't it?"

"The body returns to the womb of the Great Earth Mother," Zelandoni said, "the life spirit, the elan, returns to Her spirit in the next world, but eve- rything has a spirit form, rocks, trees, the food we eat, even the clothes we wear. The elan of a person doesn't want to return naked, or empty-handed.

That's why Shevonar was dressed in his Ceremonial clothes, and given the tools of his craft and his hunting weapons to take with him. He will be given food, too."

Ayla nodded. She speared a rather large piece of meat, took one end in her teeth, then, holding the other end, cut off the piece in her mouth with her knife and put the rest back on her scapula bone plate. She chewed for a while with a thoughtful expression, then swallowed.Ayla looked puzzled. "I don't understand those words. What's an elan- don? Or a Zelandonii abelan?" she asked Everyone looked at Ayla with surprise. They were such commonly used terms, and Ayla spoke Zelandoni so well, it was hard to believe she didn't know them.

Jondalar looked a bit chagrined. "I guess the words never came up," he said. "When you found me, Ayla, I was wearing Sharamudoi clothes, and they don't have quite the same way of showing who a person is. The Ma- mutoi have something similar, but not the same. A Zelandonii abelan is a...

well... it's like those tattoos on the sides of Zelandoni's and Marthona's forehead," the man tried to explain.

Ayla looked at Marthona, then Zelandoni. She knew all the zelandonia and the leaders had an elaborate tattoo made up of squares and rectangles of different colors, sometimes embellished with additional lines and swirls, but she'd never heard a name for the mark.

"Perhaps I can explain the meaning of the words," Zelandoni said."But you didn't learn this word before?" Zelandoni asked, scowling at Jondalar.

"Jondalar always said 'spirit.' Is that wrong?" Ayla said.

"No, it's not wrong. And I suppose we do tend to use 'elan' more when there is a death, or a birth, because death is the absence or end of elan, and birth is the beginning," the donier said.

"When a child is born, when a new life comes into this world, it is filled with elan, the vital force of life," the One Who Was First said. "When the child is named, a Zelandoni creates a mark that is a symbol for that spirit, that new person, and paints it or carves it on some object-a rock, a bone, a piece of wood. That mark is called an abelan. Each abelan is different and is used to designate a particular individual. It might be a design made of lines or shapes or dots, or a simplified form of an animal. Whatever comes to mind when the Zelandoni meditates about the infant."

"That's what Creb-The Mog-ur-used to do, meditate, to decide what a new baby's totem was!" Ayla said, surprised. She wasn't alone.don. The Zelandoni gives it to the baby's mother to keep safe until the child is grown. When they pass into adulthood, the mother gives her children their elandons as part of their coming of age ceremony.

"But the symbol thing, the elandon, is more than just a material object with designs painted or engraved on it. It can hold the elan, the life-force, the spirit, the essence of each member of the Cave, much the way a donii can hold the Mother's spirit. The elandon has more power than any other personal item. It is so powerful that in the wrong hands it can be used against a person to create terrible afflictions and adversity. Therefore, a mother keeps her children's elandons in a place known only to her, and perhaps her mother, or her mate." Suddenly Ayla realized that she would be responsible for the elandon of the child she was carrying.

Zelandoni explained that when the elandon was given to a child who had reached adulthood, that person would hide it in a place known only to the new adult, often quite far away. But an innocuous object, like a stone, would be picked up from close by as a surrogate and given to a Zelandoni, who customarily put it in a crack in a stone wall of a sacred place, perhaps a cave, as an offering to the Great Mother. While the thing that was offered seemed insignificant, its meaning was much greater. It was understood thathave been known to misuse their knowledge and abilities, and some peo- ple fear that given the opportunity, one of those might be tempted to use a powerful object like the elandon against someone they disliked, or to teach a person a lesson if they felt they had been wronged. I have never known it to happen, but people do like to embellish stories."

"If anyone disturbs a person's symbol thing, it could make a person sick, or even die. Let me tell you an Elder Legend," Marthona said. "In the past, it is said, some families used to put all their symbol things together, in the same place. Sometimes even entire Caves put them all in one place.

"There was one Cave that put all their symbol things together in a spe- cial little cave in the side of a hill near their shelter. It was considered such a sacred place that no one would dare to disturb them. One very wet spring, an avalanche washed down the slope, destroying the cave and everything in it. The people blamed each other and stopped being coop- erative. Without each other's help, life became very difficult. The people scattered, and the Cave died. So people learned that if someone disturbed all the elandons, or even if they were dislodged by natural shifts caused by water, wind, or earth movements, the family or Cave had serious problems.

That is why each person needs to hide her own symbol thing."that old Dorv used to tell to Brun's clan in the winter.

Then the donier continued. "The abelan is a symbol or mark or pattern that always has life-force associated with it. It is used specifically to identify or characterize someone or some group. The Zelandonii abelan identifies all of us and is the most significant. It is a symbol made of squares or rec- tangles, often with variations and embellishments. It may be different col- ors, or made of different materials, or even different numbers of squares, but it must have the basic shapes. Part of this is a Zelandonii abelan," she said, pointing to the mark tattooed on the side of her forehead. Ayla noticed that three rows of three squares were part of the design.

"The squares tell anyone who sees it that my people are Zelandonii.

Because one can count nine of them, the mark also identifies me as a member of the Ninth Cave. There is more to this tattoo, of course," she continued. "It also marks me as a member of the zelandonia, and declares that I am considered by the other Zelandonia as First Among Those Who Serve The Great Earth Mother. Although no longer as significant, a part of it is also my own personal abelan."Yes," Marthona said. "The tattoo artist was very good and captured the essence of my abelan. Though more stylized so that it could work with the whole pattern, it is very close to the mark on my elandon, which is a horse, but simplified like that."

"Our tattoos tell you something about each of us," Zelandoni said. "You know that I Serve The Mother because mine is on the left. You know that Marthona is or was a leader of her Cave because hers is on the right side of her forehead. You know we are both Zelandonii, because of the squares, and that we are of the Ninth Cave."

"I think Manvelar's tattoo had three squares, but I don't remember if I could count up to fourteen squares on Brameval's forehead," Ayla said.

"No, you couldn't," Zelandoni said. "Caves are not always identified by the number of squares, but a person's Cave is always identified in some way. Brameval's tattoo has fourteen dots in a certain shape."

"Not everyone has tattoos," Ayla said. "Willamar has a small one on the middle of his forehead, but Jondalar doesn't have one at all."chins, even hands, usually someplace that shows and is not covered up by clothes. Not much point in putting an identifying mark where no one can see it. The other tattoos often show something a person wants to be recog- nized for, but usually it's a personal achievement, not a primary tie relation- ship," Marthona said.

"Among the Mamutoi, the mamuti-that's like zelandonia-have tattoos on their cheeks, but not squares. They use chevrons," Ayla said. "They start with a diamond shape, which is like a square turned so that it points up and down, or half of that, a triangle-they particularly like downward- pointing triangles. Then they repeat the pointed shape, like one point nes- tled inside another. Sometimes they connect them and make zigzags. All those symbols have meanings, too. Mamut was just starting to teach them to me the winter before I left."

Zelandoni and Marthona caught each other's eyes and nodded a slight acknowledgment. The donier had talked with the former leader about Ayla's abilities and suggested that she, perhaps, ought to consider affiliating with the zelandonia in some way. They both agreed that it might be better for her and everyone else.includes the nine squares that identify his Cave, and other patterns that define his lineage. There are symbol marks for the woman he mated, the abelans of her children born to his hearth. His craft, spear-making, is repre- sented, and of course, his own symbol mark. His abelan is the most per- sonal, and personally powerful element of all. His Ceremonial outfit, which are his burial clothes now, are, I suppose you could say, a visual display of his names and ties."

"Shevonar's Ceremonial outfit is particularly nice," Marthona said. "It was created by the old pattern-maker, who is gone now. He was very good."

Ayla had thought the clothing of the Zelandonii was very interesting, some of it quite beautiful-particularly Marthona's things-but she'd had no idea of the complexity of the meanings associated with it. Some things had seemed too ornate for her taste. She had learned to appreciate the pure form and usefulness of the things she made, just as her Clan mother did.

Occasionally she varied the pattern in a basket she was weaving, or showed off the grain of the wood in a bowl or cup she carved and sanded smooth, but she had never added decorations.Jondalar smiled. "Because the old man's craft was designing Ceremo- nial and burial clothing. That's what a pattern-maker does."

"The old man didn't make Shevonar's Ceremonial clothes, he planned how they would go together," Marthona said. "There are so many aspects to include, it takes a special skill and an artistic eye to put them together in a pleasing way. But he could arrange to have the clothes made. Several people had worked closely with him for many years, and the team was in great demand. Now, one of them plans the clothing, but she isn't as good, not yet."

"But why would the old man or anyone else do it for Shevonar?" Ayla asked.

"He traded for it," Jondalar said.

Ayla frowned. It was obvious she still didn't quite understand. "I thought people traded with other Camps or Caves. I didn't know they traded with people in their own Cave."one by one, for other things he wanted, but he saved the best one for him- self. His bones are now buried in sacred ground, but he took that spear with him to the spirit world. It was one that had both his and Shevonar's abelans on it."

"If he is especially pleased with his handiwork," Jondalar explained, "along with the abelan of the person it is being made for, a spear-maker sometimes incorporates his own symbol mark within the design carved or painted on it."

Ayla learned during the hunt that certain marks on spears were very im- portant. She knew that every spear carried a mark of its owner, so that there would be no doubt who had killed which animal. She didn't know that it was called an abelan, or that it was so important to the Zelandonii. She had seen one dispute resolved because of the marks. Two spears had found the same animal, but only one was imbedded in a vital organ.

Though each spear bore the owner's symbol mark, she had heard the hunters talking about the spear-makers. They always seemed to know who made which spear, whether or not it bore the mark of the one who made it.

The style of the spear and the decorations on it declared the maker.day," he said, then looked at the First and grinned. "Or maybe it's the tail of an ermine, white with a black tip. I always liked those little ermine tails. Do you think my abelan could be an ermine?"

"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 fei- sty 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."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. Mar- thona 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.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 ad- vantage."

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. Mes- sengers 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 appear- ance, 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 Amongknew there would be no using of weapons this day. This was the day the spirit of Shevonar, his elan, would be guided to the next world.

Zelandoni's mind was also occupied with other thoughts, though she appeared to be seriously considering the points of view being offered. She had been thinking about Jondalar's younger brother ever since she was given the stone with the opalescent face from his grave far to the east, but she had been waiting for an appropriate time.

She knew that both Jondalar and Ayla would have to be involved in the process, and making contact with the next world was fearsome enough under any circumstances, especially for those who were not trained to deal with it-it could be dangerous even for those who were. It was safer when there were many people around during the ceremony to aid and support those who would be making the contact directly.

Since he was killed during a hunt that involved most of the nearby Caves, Shevonar's burial would have to be a major ceremony that would include and invoke the protection of the entire community. This might be a good time to make an attempt to enter more deeply into the spirit world to search for Thonolan's vital force, Zelandoni thought. She glanced at Aylabrother's burial place, considering that she was unfamiliar with their prac- tices, Zelandoni thought. The stone that had presented itself to him was certainly unique. It seemed entirely ordinary, until one turned it over and saw that bluish, opalescent face with the fiery red points.

That opalescent blue is undoubtedly an aspect of clear, she thought, and red is the color of life, the most important of the Mother's Five Sacred Colors. That little stone is clearly an object of power. Something will have to be done with it after we are through with it.

She was only half listening to the disagreement, when it came to her that the unique stone from Thonolan's grave was rather like a surrogate stone. With it, the Mother could trace Thonolan's elan. The best and safest place for it would be in a crack of a sacred cave near the surrogate stones of his family. She knew where almost all of the surrogate stones of the Ninth Cave were, and many of those from other Caves. She even knew the hiding places of some actual elandons besides her own.

There had been a few unusual circumstances that had required her to step in and assume the duties of a parent and take responsibility for the elandons of some children, and she'd had to hide the symbol things for adidn't even know some of the esoteric words they used. Instead she was thinking about some of the things she had learned recently.

It had been explained that people were usually buried in sacred ground, though burial grounds changed after they acquired a certain number of graves. Too many lingering spirits in one place could give them too much power. Those who died at the same time might be kept together, or if they were especially close, but there was not one single burial ground. Instead, burying was done in small areas scattered throughout the landscape.

Whatever place was chosen, the burial area was marked by posts set in the ground around the graves at close intervals and at the head of each grave. The posts were carved or painted with the abelans of the people who were buried there, symbols that proclaimed the danger of entering the area. Spirits of the dead who no longer had a body to inhabit might lurk within the confines staked out, but could not go beyond the palisade. The zelandonia made the exorcistic fence so that the spirits who could not find their way to the spirit world would not be able to cross the boundary and steal the body of someone still walking in this world.After many years, when the poles had fallen down of their own accord and rotted into the earth, and vegetation had grown over the graves and refreshed the gravesite, the sacred ground was no longer considered hal- lowed, no longer dangerous; the spirits were gone. It was said the Great Earth Mother had claimed Her own and given the place back to Her chil- dren.

Ayla, and the others who had been musing, immediately brought their attention back to the discussion when they heard the voice of the First.

Since the disputing Zelandonia could not seem to work out their differ- ences, the powerful donier decided it was time to step in. She made a deci- sion that included aspects of all the points of view and explained it in a way that made it seem the only possible way. Then they went on to talk about the safeguards that would be needed for those who would be bringing Shevonar's body to the sacred burial ground so they would be protected from the lost and wandering souls.

There would be a feast to fortify everyone so that each person's own spirit had the strength to fight off the lost souls, and of course, everyone looked to Proleva to organize it. In addition, they talked about the food thatchecking them over to make sure everything was well with them. She was used to spending every day with the horses, but since they had arrived, she had been with Jondalar's people most of the time, and she missed the ani- mals. The way they greeted her, with such enthusiastic affection, she thought they probably missed her, and Jondalar, too.

She stopped by Joharran's home on the way back and asked Proleva if she knew where Jondalar was.

"He went with Joharran, Rushemar, and Solaban to dig a pit for Shevonar," the woman said. Proleva had much to do, but at the moment was waiting for some others and had a little time. She had been wanting to get to know this woman with so many talents who would soon be joined with her mate's brother, and asked, "Would you like some chamomile tea?"

Ayla hesitated. "I think I should go back to Marthona's, but I'd love to have some tea with you another time."

Wolf, who had enjoyed the outing as much as the horses, had followed Ayla in. Jaradal, spying the animal, came running toward him. The wolflooked inside his mouth, and Wolf just lay there like he loved it. I was ab- solutely amazed. Even Salova was smiling, though when she first saw her baby girl with that wolf, she was terrified."

"Wolf has a special fondness for children," Ayla explained. "He grew up playing and sleeping with them in the earthlodge of the Lion Camp. They were his litter-mates, and grown wolves are always protective and indul- gent toward the young of their pack. He seems to think all young children belong to his pack."

As Ayla and Wolf made their way toward Marthona's dwelling, some- thing about Proleva was nagging at the back of her mind. It was the way she held herself, the way she moved, the way her loose tunic fit. Suddenly it came to her, and she smiled. Proleva was pregnant! She was sure of it.

When Ayla went into Marthona's dwelling, no one was there. It made her wish she had stayed and had tea with Proleva, though she wondered where Jondalar's mother was. She wasn't with Proleva, maybe she went to see Zelandoni, Ayla thought. They seemed close, or at least respected each other. They were always talking or giving each other knowing looks. IfAyla went to the dwelling of Zelandoni and tapped lightly on the panel near the entrance drape. The woman must have been standing nearby.

She pushed aside the drape within a heartbeat or two.

"Ayla," she said, looking rather surprised to see the young woman and the wolf. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I was looking for Marthona. She isn't at home and she wasn't with Proleva. I wondered if she might have come here," Ayla said.

"No, she's not here."

"Well, I'm sorry to have bothered you. I know how busy you are. I shouldn't have taken up your time," Ayla said.

"It's perfectly all right," the donier said, then she noted that the young woman seemed tense, but eager, and somehow hopeful. "Did you want Marthona for anything special?"

"No, I was just looking for her. I thought she might need help with something.""I know he won't. I told you we understood each other," the donier said, holding back the drape to allow the animal in after Ayla. "The red ochre you collected for me needs to be ground into powder. There's the mortar,"

Zelandoni said, showing her a red-stained stone with a saucerlike depres- sion formed by years of use, "and here's the rock for grinding. Jonokol will be here soon and will need it to assist me in making a post with Shevonar's abelan. He is my acolyte."

"I met a man named Jonokol at the welcoming feast, but he said he was an artist," Ayla said.

"Jonokol is an artist. He is also my acolyte. I think he is more artist than acolyte, though. He has no interest in healing, or even finding his way to the spirit world. He seems content to remain an acolyte, but he is young yet. Time will tell. He may yet feel the call. In the meantime, he is a fine artist, and he makes an excellent assistant," Zelandoni said, then added, "Most artists are also zelandonia. Jonokol has been since he was very young, when he first showed talent."

Ayla was glad to grind the red iron oxide into powder, it was a way to be of help without special training, but the repetitious physical activity left herwas welcome. The wolf relaxed, but continued to be watchful.

"Ayla came over to help, Jonokol," Zelandoni said. "I understand you have met."

"Yes, the first night she was here. Greetings, Ayla," Jonokol said.

Ayla finished grinding the red lumps into fine powder and gave the mortar, grinding stone, and the red powder to Zelandoni, hoping the woman would give her something else to do, but it soon became evident that they were both waiting for her to go. "Is there anything else you would like me to do?" she finally asked.

"Not right now," the donier said.

Ayla nodded, then signaled to Wolf and left. Marthona was still gone when she returned to the dwelling, and with Jondalar away, she didn't know what to do. I should have stayed and had tea with Proleva, she thought.

Then she decided, Why not go back? Ayla wanted to get to know the ac- complished and admired woman. After all, they were going to be related; she was the mate of Jondalar's brother. Maybe I could even bring a nicevately when they crossed the invisible barrier marked by the carved and red-painted posts.

The four diggers wore large leather hides with no shaping and totally devoid of decoration, sort of a blanket with a hole through the middle for their heads. A face-covering hood went over their heads with holes cut out for their eyes but not their mouths or noseholes-bodily openings that in- vited the entry of a spirit.

The covering was intended to hide their identity from any spirits that might be lurking nearby looking for a living body to inhabit; there could be no abelans, no symbols or designs of any kind to announce who was en- croaching upon the sacred ground and disturbing the spirits. They did not speak, for even the sound of their voices could give them away. Digging a grave trench was not a job that was easy to delegate, and Joharran had decided that since he was the one who was responsible for organizing the ill-fated hunt, he ought to be one of the diggers. He had chosen his two aides, Solaban and Rushemar, and his brother Jondalar, to assist him.

Though the four men knew each other well, they sincerely hoped it was not apparent to any lingering elans.longer than necessary, and they worked as fast as they could, scooping out the dirt loosened by the mattocks. The shovels they used were made of the large flat bones, scapulas or pelvises, of the bigger animals with one side tapered, then smoothed with a round stone and river sand to a fairly sharp edge to make shoveling easier. The opposite end was attached to a long branch. The dirt was placed on leather hides similar to the ones they wore, so it could be pulled away from the edge of the pit to make room for the many people who would be crowding close.

Joharran nodded to the others when the last few shovelfuls of loose earth were pitched out of the hole. It was deep enough. They gathered up the tools and quickly left. Still not speaking, they walked far away from the living areas to a place that had been selected earlier, one seldom fre- quented by people.

Joharran thrust the pick end of the mattock into the ground, then the diggers dug a second hole, smaller than the first, took off the hoods and coverings and threw them into it, then carefully filled the dirt back in. The digging tools would be returned to the special place they were kept, but the diggers were careful not to let any part of the tools touch any part of their own naked bodies, except for their ochre-reddened hands.ceremonies involving men and boys.

The six Zelandonia of the Caves that took part in the tragic hunt were waiting for them outside the cave, along with several acolytes. They had water, heated almost to the boil with hot rocks, and several varieties of saponin-producing plants, generally referred to as soap-roots. The foamy lather turned red from the ochre powder used to protect their hands and feet. Hot water, almost too hot to stand, was poured over their stained ap- pendages into a small hole dug in the earth. The ablution was performed a second time, making sure no trace of red remained. They even cleaned under their fingernails with small pointed sticks. Then they washed a third time. They were inspected and, if necessary, washed again, until each Zelandoni was satisfied.

Then each man took watertight baskets of warm water and more soap- roots and washed his entire body, including his hair. Only when they were finally declared purified, and were allowed to don their own clothing, did they breathe easier. The One Who Was First gave each of them a cup of hot, bitter-tasting tea, instructing them to first rinse out their mouths, spit it out in a special hole, then drink the rest. They rinsed and swallowed hur-people came to talk about the burial feast. She offered to help, but I told her next time. I'm sure Zelandoni has other plans for her. She left not long ago.