"Ayla, do you see that big cow over there?" Jondalar asked. "The one with the white on its face and across the left shoulder?"

"Yes," she said.

"I think we should try for her," Jondalar said. "She's full grown, but from the size of her horns, she doesn't look too old, and she's off by herself."

Ayla felt a chill of recognition. Now she was convinced it was a sign.

Jondalar had chosen the unusual animal! The one with the white spots. Whenever she had been faced with difficult choices in her life, and after much thought had finally reasoned, or rationalized, her way to a decision, her totem had confirmed that it was the correct one by showing her a sign, an unusual object of some sort. When she was a girl, Creb had explained such signs to her and told her to keep them for good luck. Most of the small objects that she carried in the decorated pouch around her neck were signs from her totem. The sudden appearance of the aurochs herd, after they had made their decision to stay, and Jondalar's decision to hunt the unusual one, seemed strangely akin to signs from a totem.

Though their decision to stay at this Camp had not been an agonizingly personal one, it was an important one that had required serious thought. This was the permanent winter home of a group of people who had invoked the power of the Mother to guard it in their absence. While the needs of survival did allow a passing stranger to use it in case of necessity, it had to be with legitimate reason. One did not incur the possible wrath of the Mother lightly.

The earth was richly populated with living creatures. In their travels they had seen uncounted numbers of a great variety of animals, but few people. In a world so empty of human life, there was comfort in the thought that an invisible realm of spirits was aware of their existence, cared about their actions, and perhaps directed their steps. Even a stern or inimical spirit who cared enough to demand certain actions of appeasement was better than the heartless disregard of a harsh and indifferent world, in which their lives were entirely in their own hands, with no one else to turn to in time of need, not even in their thoughts.

Ayla had come to the conclusion that if their hunt was successful, it would mean that it was all right for them to use the Camp, but if they failed, they would have to go. They had been shown the sign, the unusual animal, and to gain good luck they must keep a part of it. If they could not, if their hunt was unsuccessful, it would mean bad luck, a sign that the Mother did not want them to stay, and that they should leave immediately. The young woman wondered what the outcome would be.

Jondalar studied the disposition of the aurochs herd along the river. The cattle were spread out between the bottom of the slope and the edge of the water among various small pastures of rich green grass, which were interspersed with brush and trees. The spotted cow was alone in a small lea, with a dense stand of birch and alder brush at one end separating her from several other members of the herd. The brush continued along the base of the slope, giving way to clumps of sedge and sharp-leaved reeds on wet low ground at the other end, which led into a marshy inlet choked with tall phragmite reeds and cattails.

He turned to Ayla and pointed toward the marsh. "If you ride along the river past those reeds and cattails, and I come up on her through that opening in the alder brush, we'll have her between us and can ride her down."

Ayla looked over the situation and nodded agreement. Then she dismounted. "I want to tie down my spear holder before we start," she said, fastening the long, tube-shaped rawhide container to the straps that held on the riding blanket of soft deerskin. Inside the stiff leather holder were several well-made, graceful spears with slender round bone points, ground and polished to a fine sharpness and split at the base, where they were attached to the long wooden shafts. Each spear was fletched at the back end with two straight feathers and indented with a notch in the butt.

While Ayla was tying down her holder, Jondalar reached for a spear from the spear holder on his back, attached by a strap that went over one shoulder. He had always worn his spear holder when he'd hunted on foot, and he was used to it, though when he'd traveled by walking on his own two legs, and had worn a backframe, spears were kept in a special holder on the side of it. He placed the spear on his spear-thrower to have it in readiness.

Jondalar had invented the spear-thrower during the summer he lived with Ayla in her valley. It was a unique and startling innovation, an inspired creation of sheer genius that had risen out of his natural technical aptitude and an intuitive sense of physical principles that would not be defined and codified for hundreds of centuries. Though the idea was ingenious, the spear-thrower itself was deceptively simple.

Shaped from a single piece of wood, it was about a foot and a half in length and an inch and a half wide, narrowing near the front end. It was held horizontally and had a groove down the center where the spear rested. A simple hook carved into the back of the thrower fit into the notch in the butt of the spear, acting as a backstop and helping to hold the spear in place while it was being thrown, which contributed to the accuracy of the hunting weapon. Near the front of Jondalar's spear-thrower two soft buckskin loops were attached on either side.

To use it, the spear was laid on the spear-thrower with its butt up against the backstop hook. The first and second fingers were put through the leather loops at the front of the spear-thrower, which reached a place somewhat back from the center of the much longer spear, at a good balance point, and loosely held the spear in place. But a more important function came into play when the spear was thrown. Holding the front of the thrower securely as the spear was cast caused the back end to raise up, which, like an extension of the arm, added length. The greater length increased leverage and momentum, which in turn increased the power and distance of the flight of the spear.

Hurling a spear with a spear-thrower was similar to throwing it by hand; the difference was in the results. With it, the long shaft with the sharp point could be propelled more than twice as far as a spear thrown by hand, with many times the force.

Jondalar's invention utilized mechanical advantage to transmit and amplify the force of muscle power, but it wasn't the first implement to use those principles. His people had a tradition of creative invention and had utilized similar ideas in other ways. For example, a sharp piece of flint held in the hand was an effective cutting tool, but attaching a handle to it gave the user an extraordinary increase in force and control. The seemingly simple idea of putting handles on things – knives, axes, adzes, and other carving, cutting, and drilling tools, a longer one on shovels and rakes, and even a form of detachable handle to throw a spear – multiplied their effectiveness many times. It was not just a simple idea, it was an important invention that made work easier and survival more probable.

Though the ones who had come before them had slowly developed and improved various implements and tools, the people like Jondalar and Ayla were the first to imagine and innovate to such an extravagant degree. Their brains could make abstractions easily. They were capable of conceiving of an idea and planning how to implement it.

Beginning with simple objects that utilized advanced principles that were intuitively understood, they drew conclusions and applied them in other circumstances. They did more than invent usable tools, they invented science. And from the same wellspring of creativity, utilizing that same power to abstract, they were the first people to see the world around them in symbolic form, to extract its essence and reproduce it; they originated art.