This is my mate, Lyna and my son Jontar. We have come to trade."Oh? What do you want for the meat?" he asked."The meat is not to trade. It is a gift a...d a sign that I am a good hunter." Oh! That is very generous of you. You must stay for a feast. Then we will talk trade."Hogat smiled as he and the other men led us into camp. I got my first look at Neanderthal women. The one I saw stood about five foot- two inches. She had dark hair and eyes like Hogat. She also had a pronounced forehead, though. She is able to walk alone, in peace, in this oasis from the bustle of the city; able to give herself an opportunity to reflect on the passing of time and the fragility of life.She should feel some form of gratitude, she tells herself. To be spared the decrepitude of old age, that slow, downwards descent into incapacity as bit by bit, her body surrenders to infirmity and decay. But how should she to spend her last few years - or perhaps months? What ambitions remained unfulfilled? What. More

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