“From the perspective of the Arkana, the San confirm a lot of what we’ve always believed about gatherer-hunter social structure,” Bobbye said. “They aren’t male-dominated, and division of labor isn’t rigidly defined by sex. Their social organization is relatively egalitarian with major decisions made by group consensus. Divorce isn’t stigmatized for either partner and spousal abuse is unheard of.” Bobbye paused to clamber over a huge rock blocking their way. “Of course, so many things are changing now because of outside influence. It’s hard to know how much of their social structure has been adulterated by contact with overlord culture.”
Cassie came to a dead stop and pointed to the cliff slightly above them. “Did they paint that?”
The others turned their heads upward to regard a specimen of rock art.
Bobbye squinted at it. “Yes. It’s a gazelle. They used red ochre to paint most of the images you’ll see. Red silhouettes against a background of grey quartzite. There are about forty-five hundred different paintings throughout the park though I should mention that not all the rock art is ancient. Some of it is recent, only a thousand years old or so.”
Erik chuckled. “I guess when you’re talking about people who have been living here for the past hundred thousand years, a millennium would seem kind of recent.”
They resumed the challenging trek upward while Bobbye continued her explanation. “There are more specimens of rock art in the Tsodilo Hills than anywhere else in the world. It’s a form of expression that predates cave painting by thousands of years. Archaeologists once believed that the images in cave paintings and rock art were representations of hunting scenes. Of course, that’s what you’d expect an overlord archaeologist to think. However, it seems much more likely that the images were depictions of what tribal shamans saw while in a trance state. Some of the paintings are fusions of animal and human forms while others are spirals or geometric shapes. The images would have possessed symbolic significance to the artist and probably to her tribe as well.”
“Perhaps in the same way a medieval person might have viewed a stained-glass window in a church,” Griffin offered. “The images were meant to evoke a different dimension of reality.”
By now they had progressed halfway up the hill. The vegetation had thinned out, and they were traveling over bare rock. The higher they climbed, the hotter the sun became. Bobbye suggested that they pause and take a break. Everyone had come equipped with bottled water in their backpacks. Cassie noted that she and her companions were red-faced and out of breath, but their guide hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“I guess you’re used to this climate,” the pythia remarked.
Bobbye shrugged. “After a couple of years in Africa, I don’t notice the temperature anymore. But whenever I’m back in the states, I sure do feel the cold.”
They resumed their upward journey, periodically pausing so Bobbye could point out various specimens of rock art. Eventually, they reached the crest of the hill and stopped briefly to admire the view of the surrounding grasslands. Because it was flat as far as the eye could see, Cassie understood why these hills would be considered so remarkable a feature of the terrain. Once they’d caught their collective breath, Bobbye led them downward along the northwest face of the hill.
A little way down the slope, the scout stopped abruptly before a narrow aperture in the rock and announced, “We’re here.”
Cassie stared. “There’s nothing here but more rock.”
“This is Rhino Cave.”
The pythia tilted her head to the side to regard their destination. It didn’t look like any of the caves she’d visited on previous expeditions. Those had been huge gaping holes in the ground with entrances as big as cathedral arches. Rhino Cave was little more than a tall narrow slit in the side of the hill. There were boulders piled up around the entrance which made it easy to miss if you didn’t know what you were looking for.
“C’mon,” Bobbye instructed as she clambered over the giant rocks obscuring the portal.
The others followed her lead.
There were more boulders which had tumbled inside, and the group had to climb down these before they reached level ground. The floor of the interior had been packed hard over the centuries and was smooth compared to the rubble outside. The cave itself wasn’t very large and didn’t seem to be very deep either.
Cassie’s attention was immediately drawn to a rock painting on the right-hand wall. Part of it had been worn away, but it seemed to represent an elephant. “Why is this cave so special?” she asked, still contemplating the picture. “The rock art we’ve already seen on the trail is a lot more impressive.”
“Because of this.” Griffin turned her around to face the opposite wall.
“Oh, my goddess!” Cassie exclaimed.
Chapter 10—Stoned
Once Griffin spun her around to face the other side of the cave, Cassie knew why this place was so remarkable. She drew her breath in sharply, startled by the object that confronted her. A huge stone snake about twenty feet long and three feet wide seemed frozen in the act of emerging from the back wall of the cavern. Its head and most of its body were free-standing, raised at their highest point about seven feet from the ground. A crack in the rock formed a mouth, and a natural indentation mimicked an eye.
“It’s called the Python Stone,” Griffin said.
The group gathered around the strange sculpture if it could be called a sculpture at all. It looked more like a natural rock formation that someone had shaped to accentuate its resemblance to a giant snake.
“It’s been theorized that the ancestors of the San carved the mouth,” Bobbye pointed to the reptile’s snout. “Or at least they deepened
