The Shaman pushed the flickering torch ahead of him as he wriggled through the narrow crevasse. The passage opened into a grand, sacred chamber. He walked to the rock wall and danced his fingers across it, brushing aside the loose stones. Probing for the perfect spot. From his small buffalo-hide pouch, he took the holy pigment. On a nearby flat stone he mixed it with his spittle and poured the mixture onto a broad, flat leaf brought for this purpose. With expert fingers and precise puffs of breath, he began to shape the bear.