Ayla knew that if her understanding of counting upset Creb, who loved her, it would disturb the rest of the Clan even more, so she never mentioned it, but she hadn't forgotten. She used her limited knowledge of counting for herself, especially when she lived alone in the valley. She had marked the passing of time by cutting marks on a stick every day. She knew how many seasons and years she had lived in the valley even without having counting words, but when Jondalar came, he was able to tally the marks on her sticks and tell her how long she had been there. To her, it was like magic. Now that she had an idea how he had done it, she was hungry to learn more.
'There are ways to count even higher, but it is more complicated,' the Second continued, then smiled, 'as with most things associated with the zelandonia.' Those watching smiled back. 'Most signs have more than one meaning. Both hands can mean ten or twenty-five, and it's not hard to understand what is meant when you are talking about it, because when you mean ten, you face the palms out; when you mean twenty-five, you turn the palms inward. When you hold them facing in, you can count again, but this time use the left hand, and hold the number with the right.' She demonstrated and the acolytes mimicked her. 'In that position, bending down the thumb means thirty, but when you count and hold to thirty-five, you don't hold the thumb down; you just bend the next finger down. For forty, you bend down the middle finger, for forty-five the next; for fifty the small finger of the right hand is bent, and all the other fingers on both hands are out. The right hand with bent fingers is sometimes used alone to show those larger counting words. Even larger counting words can be made bending more than one finger.'
Ayla had trouble bending just her little finger and holding that position. It was obvious that the rest of them had more practice, but she had no trouble understanding. The First saw Ayla grinning with amazement and delight, and nodded to herself. This is the way to keep her involved, she thought.
'A handprint can be made on a surface like a piece of wood or the wall of a cave, even on the bank of a stream,' the First added. 'That hand sign can mean several different things. It may mean counting words, but it may mean something else entirely. If you want to leave a handprint sign, you can dip your palm in colour and leave the mark, or you can place your hand on the surface and blow colour on and around the back of it, which leaves a different kind of handprint. If you want to make a sign that means a counting word, dip the palm in colour for the smaller ones, and blow colour on the back of your hand to show the larger ones. One Cave to the south and east of here makes the sign of a large dot using colour on only the palm, without showing the fingers.'
Ayla's mind was racing, overwhelmed with the idea of counting. Creb, the greatest Mogur of the Clan, could, with great effort, count to twenty. She could count to twenty-five and represent it with just two hands in a way that others could understand it, and then increase that number. You could tell someone how many red deer had congregated at their spring calving grounds, how many young were born; a small number like five, a small group, twenty-five, or many more than that. It would be harder to count a larger herd, but it could all be communicated. How much meat should be stored to last how many people through the winter. How many strings of dried roots? How many baskets of nuts. How many days will it take to reach the Summer Meeting place? How many people will be there? The possibilities were incredible. Counting words had tremendous significance, both real and symbolic.
The One Who Was First was talking again, and Ayla had to wrench her mind away from her contemplations. She was holding up one hand. 'The number of fingers on one hand, five, is an important counting word in its own right. It represents the number of fingers on each hand, and the toes on each foot, of course, but that is only its superficial meaning. Five is also the Mother's sacred counting word. Our hands and feet only remind us of that. Another thing that reminds us of that is the apple.' She produced a small, unripe hard apple and held it up. 'If you hold an apple on its side and cut it in half, as if you were cutting through the stem within the fruit,' she demonstrated as she spoke, 'you will see that the pattern of the seeds divides the apple into five sections. That is why the apple is the Mother's sacred fruit.'
She passed out both sections to be examined by the acolytes, giving the top half to Ayla. 'There are other important aspects of the counting-word five. As you will learn, you can see five stars in the sky that move in a random pattern each year, and there are five seasons of the year: spring, summer, autumn, and the two cold periods, early winter and late winter. Most people think the year starts with spring when new green starts growing, but the zelandonia know that the beginning of the year is marked by the Winter Shortday, which is what divides early winter from late winter. The true year begins with late winter, then spring, summer, autumn, and early winter.'
'The Mamutoi count five seasons, too,' Ayla volunteered. 'Actually three major seasons: spring, summer and winter, and two minor seasons: fall and midwinter. Perhaps it should be called late winter.' Some of the others were rather surprised that she would interject a comment when the First was explaining a basic concept, but the First smiled inwardly, pleased to see her getting involved. 'They consider three to be a primary counting word because it represents woman, like the three-sided triangle with the point facing down represents woman, and the Great Mother. When they add the two others, fall and midwinter, seasons that mean changes are coming, it makes five. Mamut said five was Her counting word of hidden authority.'
'That's very interesting, Ayla. We say five is Her sacred counting word. We also consider three to be an important concept, for similar reasons. I'd like to hear more about the people you call the Mamutoi, and their customs. Perhaps the next time the zelandonia meet,' the First said.
Ayla was listening with fascination. The First had a voice that captured attention, demanded it, when she chose to focus it, but it wasn't only the voice. The knowledge and information she was imparting were stimulating and absorbing. Ayla wanted to know more.
'There are also five sacred colours and five sacred elements but it's getting late and we'll get into that next time,' said the One Who Was First Among Those Who Served The Great Earth Mother.
Ayla felt disappointed. She could have listened all night, but then she looked up and saw Folara coming with Jonayla. Her baby was awake.
Chapter 4
Anticipation for the Summer Meeting intensified after the Ninth Cave returned from visiting the Seventh and Second Caves. Everyone's time and attention was occupied with the hectic rush of getting ready to leave, and the excitement was palpable. Each family was busy with its own preparations, but the various leaders had the additional duty of planning and organising for their entire Cave. That they were willing to assume the responsibility and able to carry it out was why they were leaders.
The leaders of all the Zelandonii Caves were anxious before a Summer Meeting, but Joharran was especially so. While most Caves tended to have some twenty-five to fifty people, some as much as seventy or eighty, usually related, his Cave was an exception. Nearly two hundred individuals belonged to the Ninth Cave of the Zelandonii.
It was a challenge to lead so many people, but Joharran was up to the task. Not only had Joharran's mother, Marthona, been a leader of the Ninth Cave, but Joconan, the first man to whom she was mated and to whose hearth Joharran had been born, was the leader before her. Joharran's brother, Jondalar, who was born to the hearth of Dalanar, the man Marthona mated after Joconan died, had specialised in a craft in which he showed both skill and inclination. Like Dalanar, he was recognised as an expert flint-knapper because it was what he did best. But Joharran grew up immersed in the ways of leadership and had a natural propensity to take on those responsibilities. It was what he did best.
The Zelandonii had no formal process for selecting leaders, but as people lived together, they learned who the best person was to help them to resolve a conflict or sort out a problem. And they tended to follow the ones who took on the organisation of an activity and did it well.
If several people decided to go hunting, for example, it wasn't necessarily the best hunter they chose to follow, but the one who could direct the group in a way that made the hunt most successful for everyone. Often, though not always, the best problem solver was also the best organiser. Sometimes two or three people, who were known for their specific areas of expertise, worked together. After a while, the one who dealt with conflicts and managed activities most effectively was acknowledged as the leader, not in any kind of structured way, but by unspoken consent.
Those who obtained leadership positions gained status, but such leaders governed by persuasion and
