The Land of Painted Caves by Jean M. Auel

were some distance from the dwelling, and Ayla was sure she wouldn’t be overheard, she finally voiced her anger. “I’m going to have to go over there and check to see if there’s any food for the children.”
    “You brought food over there two days ago,” Jondalar said. “It shouldn’t be all gone yet.”
    “You must know that Tremeda and Laramar are eating it, too,” Zelandoni said. “You can’t prevent them. And if you bring grain or fruit, or anything that will ferment, Laramar will take it and add it to the birch sap for his barma. I’ll stop by on the way back for the children and take them with me. I can find someone to give them an evening meal. You shouldn’t be the only one feeding them, Ayla. There are enough people in the Ninth Cave to make sure those children get enough to eat.”
    When they reached the horse shelter, Ayla and Jondalar gave Whinney and Gray some individual attention. Then from the end of a post, Ayla got the special harness she used for the pole-drag and led the mare outside. Jondalar wondered where Racer was, and looked over the edge of the stone porch at The River to see if he could catch sight of him, but he didn’t seem to be nearby. He started to whistle for him, then changed his mind. He didn’t need the stallion now. He would look for him later, after they got Zelandoni on the travois.
    Ayla looked around the horse shelter and noticed some planks that had been pried out of a log with wedges and a maul. She had planned to make additional feeding boxes for the horses with them, but then Jonayla was born, and they kept using ones she had made before, and she never got around to making more. Since they were kept under the overhanging ledge, protected from the worst of the weather, they seemed to be usable.
    “Jondalar, I think we need to make a platform that won’t bend so easily, for Zelandoni. Do you think we could fasten these planks across the poles to use as a base for a seat?” Ayla asked.
    He looked at the poles and the planks, and then at the abundantly endowed woman. His forehead wrinkled in a familiar knot. “It’s a good idea, Ayla, but the poles are flexible, too. We can try it, but we may have to use sturdier ones.”
    There were always thongs or cords around the horse shelter. Jondalar and Ayla used some to fasten the planks across the poles. When they were done, the three of them stood back and looked at their handiwork.
    “What do you think, Zelandoni? The planks are slanting, but we can fix that later,” Jondalar said. “Do you think you could sit on them?”
    “I’ll try, but it may be a little high for me.”
    While they were working, the Donier had become interested in the apparatus they were making, and was curious herself to see how it would work. Jondalar had devised a halter for Whinney similar to the one he used for Racer, though Ayla seldom used it herself. She usually rode bareback with only a leather riding blanket, directing the animal with her position and the pressure of her legs, but for special circumstances, especially when other people were involved, it gave her an added measure of control.
    While Ayla put the halter on the mare, making sure Whinney was calm, Jondalar and Zelandoni went to the reinforced travois behind the horse. The planks were a bit high, but Jondalar lent his strong arm and gave her a boost. The poles did bend under her weight, enough that her feet could touch the ground, but it gave her the feeling that she could get down easily enough. The slanting seat did feel somewhat precarious, but it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be.
    “Are you ready?” Ayla asked.
    “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be,” Zelandoni said.
    Ayla started Whinney at a slow walk in the direction of Down River. Jondalar walked behind, smiling encouragingly at Zelandoni. Then Ayla led the horse under the overhanging shelf and made a wide complete turn until they were facing in the opposite direction, and headed toward the east end of