THE SHELTERS OF STONE

Joharran had seen Laramar and some others, gambling, when he was hurrying to tell the craftspeople at Down River about the meal that Proleva had arranged. He recalled thinking how lazy they were, gaming while everyone else was busy, probably using wood someone else had collected, but when he saw them on the way back, he decided he ought to tell them, too. They were members of the Ninth Cave, even if they didn't contribute much.

The men were deep in conversation when he approached and didn't see him coming. As he drew near, he overheard one of them saying, "… What can you expect from someone who says she learned how to heal from flatheads? What can those animals know about healing?"

"That woman is no healer. Shevonar died, didn't he?" Laramar agreed.

"You weren't there, Laramar!" Joharran interrupted, trying to keep his temper under control. "As usual, you couldn't be bothered to join the hunt."

"I was sick," the man said defensively.

"Sick from your own barma," Joharran said. "I'm telling you, no one could have saved Shevonar. Not Zelandoni, not the most skilled healer that ever lived. He had been trampled by a bison. What man can bear the full weight of a bison? If it hadn't been for Ayla, I doubt that he would have survived until Relona arrived. She found a way to ease his pain. Ayla did as much as anyone could. Why are you spreading malicious rumors about her? What has she ever done to you?" They stopped talking when Ayla and Jondalar and several others walked past.

"Why are you sneaking around listening to private conversations?" Laramar countered, still defensive.

"Walking up to you in full daylight is hardly sneaking, Laramar. I came here to tell you that Proleva and some of the others have prepared some food for everyone, so you could share it," Joharran answered. "What I heard was said out loud. I couldn't exactly close my ears." Then he directed his comments to the others. "Zelandoni is convinced that Ayla is a good healer, why not give her a chance? We should be glad to welcome a person with such good skills, you never know when you might need them yourselves. Now, why don't you all come and eat?" The leader looked at each man directly, letting them know that he recognized and would remember each one, then he walked away.

The tight little group broke up and followed him toward the other end of the ledge. Some of them agreed with Joharran, at least as far as giving Ayla a chance to prove herself, but a few didn't want to or could not overcome their prejudice. Laramar, though he had been agreeable with the man who had been talking loudly against her, really didn't care one way or the other. He tended to go along with whatever way was easiest.

As Ayla walked with the group from Down River toward the work area, staying under the protective overhanging shelf when it started raining harder again, she thought about all the different talents and abilities that people enjoyed exercising to occupy themselves. Many people liked to make things, although the choice of materials they worked with were quite varied. Some, like Jondalar, liked to work with flint to craft tools and hunting weapons, some liked working with wood, or ivory, or bone, some liked working with fibers, or hides. It came to her that some, like Joharran, enjoyed working with people.

As they got closer and her nose detected wonderful cooking odors, Ayla realized that cooking and working with food was also a task some people enjoyed. Proleva's penchant for organizing community gatherings was obviously something she enjoyed, which was probably the reason for this impromptu feast. Ayla thought about herself and what she liked to do best. She was interested in many things and enjoyed learning how to do things she had never done before, but more than anything else, she loved being a medicine woman, a healer.

The meal was being served near the large area where people were working on their projects, but as they approached, Ayla noticed that an adjacent area was being set up for a task that may not have been quite as enjoyable but needed to be done. Several nets for drying the meat they had hunted had been stretched out a couple of feet above the ground between upright posts. There was a layer of soil on the stone surface of the abri and its front porch, shallow in some areas, but deep enough to support posts in others. Some uprights were permanently wedged into cracks in the stone or supported by post holes dug into the soil. Piles of rocks were often added for additional bracing.