Univerza v Ljubljani Filozofska Fakulteta Oddelek za Arheologijo Neolithic studies Filozofska Fakulteta Univerza v Ljubljani Oddelek za Arheologijo Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Editor Mihael Budja 11TH Neolithic studies ISSN 1408-967X Ljubljana 2004 documenta praehistorica xxxi 11th NEOLITHIC STUDIES/NEOLITSKE ŠTUDIJE 11 Editor/Urednik: Mihael Budja, miha.budja@ff.uni-lj.si http://www.ff.uni-lj.si/arheologija/neolitik/documenta.html Editorial board/Uredniški odbor: Dr. Maja Andrič (ZRC SAZU), Dr. Mihael Budja (Univerza Ljubljana), Dr. Simona Petru (Univerza Ljubljana), Dr. Žiga Šmit (Univerza Ljubljana), Dr. Katherine Willis (University of Oxford) © 2004 Oddelek za arheologijo, Filozofska fakulteta - Univerza v Ljubljani, SI - 1000 Ljubljana, P.B. 580, tel.: 386 12 41 15 70 English advisor/Jezikovni pregled: Philip James Burt Published by/Založila: Filozofska fakulteta, Oddelek za arheologijo Technical editor and DTP/Tehnično urejanje in DTP: CAMBIO d.o.o., Ljubljana Printed by/Tisk: Tiskarna Hren, Ljubljana Number printed/Naklada: 750 izvodov Natisnjeno s podporo Ministrstva za šolstvo, znanost in šport. Documenta Praehistorica je vključena v naslednje izbrane indekse: COBISS; SACHKATALOG DER PUBLIKATIONEN ZUR ALTERTUMSKUNDE - DAI- Germania ISBN 3-8053-1660-7; DYABOLA, Sachkatalog der Bibliothek der Röm.-germ. Kommission Mainz - http://www.db.dyabola.de/; COPAC http://www.copac.ac.uk/; OPAC http://www-opac.bib-bvb.de/ II Contents David Lubell 1 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel and Jérôme Dubouloz 25 Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov 35 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia Amy Bogaard 49 The nature of early farming in Central and South-east Europe Mihael Budja 59 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Luiz Oosterbeek 83 Archaeographic and conceptual advances in interpreting Iberian Neolithisation Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn 89 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Julian Thomas 113 Current debates on the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Britain and Ireland Chaohong Zhao, Xiaohong Wu, Tao Wang, Xuemei Yuan 131 Early polished stone tools in South China evidence of the transition from Palaeolithic to Neolithic Michel Louis Séfériadès 139 An aspect of Neolithisation in Mongolia: the Mesolithic-Neolithic site of Tamsagbulag (Dornod district) Paul Halstead 151 Farming and feasting in the Neolithic of Greece: the ecological context of fighting with food Dimas Martín-Socas et al. 163 Cueva de El Toro (Antequera, Málaga-Spain): a Neolithic stockbreeding community in the Andalusian region, between the 6th and 3th millennia BC María Dolores Cámalich, Dimas Martín-Socas, Pedro González, Antonio Goñi, Áquede Rodríguez 183 The Neolithic in Almería: the valley of the Almanzora river and Vera basin Simona Petru 199 Usewear analysis of Mesolithic and Neolithic stone tools from Mala Triglavca, Trhlovca and Pupicina pec Andreja Žibrat Gašparič 205 Archaeometrical analysis of Neolithic pottery from the Divača region, Slovenia III The 11th Neolithic Studies anthology comprises papers presented at the tenth international Neolithic Seminar -'The Neolithization of Eurasia. Paradigms, Models and Concepts Involved' that took place at the Department of Archaeology, University of Ljubljana in November 2003. _UDK 903'12/'15(4/5):574.9; 903'12/'15(4/5):594.3_ Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? David Lubell Department of Anthropology, University of Alberta, Edmonton, Canada dlubell@ualberta.ca ABSTRACT - Edible land snails, representing food remains, are frequently very abundant in late Pleistocene and early-middle Holocene archaeological sites throughout the circum-Mediterranean region. As such, they appear to represent a signature for a broad spectrum subsistence base as first conceived by Flannery in 1969, and therefore must be in some way related to the transition from foraging to food production. This paper investigates the implications that can be drawn from the presence of these snails through information on their ecology, biology, behaviour and nutritional value as well as the behaviour of the prehistoric human groups who collected and consumed them. IZVLEČEK - Užitne kopenske polže pogosto v zelo velikih količinah najdemo kot ostanke hrane na pozno pleistocenskih in zgodnje-srednje holocenskih arheoloških najdiščih po vsem mediteranskem bazenu. Videti je, da so znamenje za bolj raznolik način preživljanja - kot je prvi zaključil Flannery leta 1969 - in morajo biti zaradi tega na nek način povezani s prehodom od lovstva-nabiralništva k pridelovanju hrane. V članku raziskujemo, na kaj lahko sklepamo iz navzočnosti polžev na najdišču glede na njihovo ekološko, biološko in hranilno vrednost ter raziščemo vedenjske vzorce prazgodovinskih skupin ljudi, ki so jih nabirale in jedle. KEY WORDS - circum-Mediterranean; land snails; Mesolithic-Neolithic transition; diet If ever there was such a 'Golden Age' then surely it was in the early Holocene, when soils were still unweathered and uneroded, and when Mesolithic peoples lived off the fruits of the land without the physical toil of grinding labour. (Roberts 1998.125) At first hunting, fowling, fishing, the collection of fruits, snails, and grubs continued to be essential activities in the food-quest of any food-producing group. (Childe 1951.71) It is now clear that no recorded modern society has relied primarily on mol-luscan resources for subsistence. (Waselkov 1987.109) ...one can conclude that while some snail layers of the Pyrenees are natural, others probably represent a casual resource taken from time to time, while a few seem to constitute actual snail-farms; in no case, however, can it be accepted that land molluscs were a staple food. (Bahn 1983.49-50) INTRODUCTION Land snails are often abundant in Late Pleistocene and early to mid-Holocene archaeological deposits throughout the circum-Mediterranean region (Fig. 1). The most spectacular examples are the Capsian escargotières of eastern Algeria and southern Tunisia, but archaeological sites containing abundant land snail shells that represent food debris are known from elsewhere in the Maghreb, Cantabria, the Pyrenees, southern France, Italy, southeastern Europe, Cyprus, the Levant, the Zagros region, Ukraine and Cyrenaica (for a full review of these data, see Lubell 2004). 1 David Lubell Fig. 1. Approximate location of some sites discussed in the text. Open circles represent sites or levels dated to the late Pleistocene (i.e. older than ~10 000 calBP); filled circles are sites or levels dated to the early and mid-Holocene. The hatched areas, the limits of which are estimated, mostly contain sites that would be represented by filled circles: (A) the main region for Capsian escargotières; (B) the Pyrenean region and southern France in which there are many sites containing abundant land snails; (C) the northeastern Adriatic region which also contains numerous such sites. Individually numbered sites are: (1) the Muge middens - Moita do Sebastiâo, Cabeço da Arruda, Cabeço da Amoreira - where land snails appear to be found only with human burials; (2) Nerja Cave; (3) Ifri n'Ammar, Ifri-el-Baroud, Taghit Haddouch, Hassi Ouenzga; (4) Taforalt; (5) Afalou bou Rhumel, Tamar Hat; (6) Grotta di Pozzo, Grotta Continen-za; (7) Grotta della Madonna, Grotta Paglicci, Grotta di Latronico (8) Grotta dell'Uzzo, Grotta di Levan-zo, Grotta Corruggi; (9) Rosenburg; (10) Pupicina Cave and other Istrian sites; (11) Donja Branjevina; (12) Foeni Salas; (13) Cyclope Cave; (14) Maroulas; (15) Franchthi Cave; (16) Haua Fteah; (17) Laspi VII; (18) Hoca Çeçme; (19) Ilipinar; (20) Okuzini Cave; (21) Kissonerga Mylouthkia; (22) Ksar 'Akil; (23) Djebel Kafzeh, Hayonim Cave, Erq el-Ahmar, Mugharet ez-Zuitina, Ein Gev; (24) Asiab, Gerd Banahilk, Jarmo, Karim Shahir, Nemrik 9, Palegawra, Tepe Sarab, Shanidar Cave layer B, Warwasi, Zawi Chemi Shanidar. Outside the Mediterranean region the occurrence of land snails as food debris in archaeological deposits is less common. Those instances I am aware of include Peru (Chauchat 1988; Ossa 1974), Texas (Clark 1973; Hester, Hill 1975; Honea 1961; Malof on-line 2001) and perhaps elsewhere in North America (cf. Matteson 1959), the Caribbean (Keegan 2000; Veloz Maggiolo, Vega 1982), East Africa (Mehl-man 1979), the Sudan (e.g. Fernández Martínez on-line), Ghana (Stahl 1985), Nigeria (Connah, McMillan 1995) and the Phillipines (Katherine Szabo pers. comm. 12.03). There are no doubt others (e.g. see Evans 1969; Waselkov 1987.Tab. 3 6; website of the ICAZ Archaeomalacological Working Group at http://triton.anu.edu.au/). There is also evidence for past and modern use of amphibious fresh water snails (Pachychilus and Pomacea) as food amongst the Maya (Emery 1989; Hammond 1980; Healy et al. 1990; Moholy-Nagy 1978), prehistoric (ca. 4200 bp) middens of pond snails of the genus Margarya in Yunnan Province, China (Kira 1999) and apparently abundant acquatic snails at southern Chinese Mesolithic cave sites in the Nanling Mountains dating to perhaps 12 000 years and others in northern China dating to the same time range (Zhang 1999). What is the significance of land snails as prehistoric food? Fernandez-Armesto (2002.56-7) raises several points of interest. [land snails] together with a few other similar mol-lusks, ... have - or ought to have - an honored place in the history of food. For they represent the key and perhaps the solution to one of the greatest mysteries of our story: why and how did the human animal begin to herd and breed other animals for food? Snails are relatively easy to cultivate. ... They are an efficient food, self-packaged in a shell which serves at table as a receptacle. ... The waste is small, the nutrition excellent. Compared with the large and intractable quadrupeds who are usually claimed as the first domesticated animal food sour- 2 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? ces, snails are readily managed. ... [They] can be isolated in a designated breeding ground by enclosing a snail-rich spot with a ditch [and] by culling small or unfavored types by hand the primitive snail farmer would soon enjoy the benefits of selective breeding. [Snails] can be raised in abundance and herded without the use of fire, without any special equipment, without personal danger and without the need to select and train lead animals or dogs to help. They are close to being a complete food. Paleolithic shell mounds... are so common and in some cases so large that only scholarly inhibitions stop us from assuming that they are evidence of systematic food production. It is hard to break out of the confines of a developmental, progressive model of food history which makes it unthinkable that any kind of food was farmed so early; but snail farming is so simple, so technically undemanding, and so close conceptually to the habitual food-garnering methods of gatherers that it seems pigheadedly doctrinaire to exclude the possibility. ... In places where shell middens form part of a stratigraphic sequence, it is apparent that societies of snail eaters preceded settlers who relied on the more complex technologies of the hunt. The importance of mollusks as probably the first creatures herded and bred by men has never been broached, much less investigated or acknowledged. So what little can be said about it has to be tentative, commended as much by reason as evidence. Fernandez-Armesto is only partly correct. Yes, archaeologists have tended to ignore the issue; the emphasis has been on the palaeoenvironmental information that can be obtained from study of archaeological land snail assemblages rather than on the role of land snails in human subsistence (e.g. Abell 1985; Bobrowsky 1984; Drake 1960-1962; Eiseley 1937; Evans 1972; Goodfriend 1988; 1991; 1992; Margaritz, Kaufman 1983; Margaritz, Goodfriend 1987; Rousseau et al. 1992; Sparks 1969). Even work dealing with molluscs as food in archaeological sites ignores any mention of land snails (Meighan 1969), while other papers have been more focussed on non-food uses (Biggs 1969). However, there have been a few studies with a different emphasis: Lubell et al. (1976) attempt to test the ideas first advanced by Pond et al. (1938) on the contribution of land snails to prehistoric diet in the Holocene Maghreb; Bahn (1983.47-49) constructs an interesting argument in favour of Mesolithic snail farming in the Pyrenees; Guilaine (1979), Chenorkian (1989) and Girod (2003) discuss various aspects of the dietary importance of land snails in prehistory. In this paper I will take up Fernandez-Armesto's theme and attempt to better understand whether the presence of abundant land snails represents part of a signature for the "broad spectrum revolution" (Flannery 1969; Stiner 2001). By doing so, I hope to be able to determine whether there is some hitherto unrealized correlation between the consumption of land snails and the transition to a diet based on herded animals and cultivated plants, perhaps analogous (but certainly not identical) to that proposed for marine and fresh-water aquatic foods and the appearance of anatomically modern Homo sapiens (Broadhurst et al. 1998; 2002). ARCHAEOLOGICAL EVIDENCE This paper complements my review of the archaeological evidence (Lubell 2004), and I will refer here to those data only as required. It is appropriate, however, to first set out the criteria that allow us to decide whether or not the land snail shells found in an archaeological deposit do, or do not, represent the remains of prehistoric meals. There have been several arguments made against interpreting land snails as food remains, especially in Cantabrian cave deposits (de Barandiaran 1947; Straus 1992.212; Aparicio, Escorza 1998; Arias 2002). While these may, in certain instances, be correct, I find the counter arguments of Bahn (1982; 1983), Guilaine (1979) and Miracle (1995) more compelling. When considering open-air sites such as those in the Maghreb or the Zagros, the sheer quantities of shells found, and their consistent association with cultural materials, argues incontrovertibly for their anthropogenic origin and, in most cases, for their interpretation as food debris. There are certain species, such as Rumina decollata, which are known to be carnivorous and may thus have colonized the organic rich deposits themselves, but the majority of species are herbivorous and unlikely to colonize abandoned archaeological sites in such large numbers as are found (Lubell et al. 1982-83). Under some conditions today, land snails are known to be the prey of rodents which then accumulate the shells in substantial middens (Yom-Tov 1970), but these are devoid of any cultural associations. I suppose it might be possible that some prehistoric accumulations were formed in this way, given the ap- 3 David Lubell parent alternation of human and rodent activity in some open-air land snail shell middens (Lubell et al. 1982-83), but the frequency and size of the accumulations we find, argue strongly against this as an explanation for more than a very few. The most convincing evidence for prehistoric land snail consumption is found in the Maghreb, beginning in the Iberomaurusian by 20 000 BP and continuing through the Capsian to at least 6000 BP (Lubell et al. 1976; 1984; Morel 1974; 1980; Pond et al. 1938; Mikdad et al. 2000; 2002; Roche 1963). In Iberomaurusian sites the land snails occur in dense deposits within caves and rockshelters. Capsian sites are more commonly open-air mounds, although numerous rockshelters are also recorded. Sites are often located near springs or passes, varying in size from a few to several hundred square meters in area, and in depth from less than one meter to well over three meters. The common components of almost all Capsian sites are the enormous numbers of whole and crushed land snail shells which led Francophone archaeologists to call them "escargotières". They are perhaps more accurately called "rammadiya", the name used by local Arabic speakers and derived from "ramad", the word for ash, because ash, charcoal and fire-cracked rock are the most common constituents of these dark grey deposits. In what I suspect was a tongue-in-cheek suggestion, both Go-bert (1937) and Morel (1974.299) suggested they be called "cendrières". The composition of the deposits and the manner of their accumulation was well described by Pond et al. (1938.109): "...a group of refuse heaps welded into a single mound... composed of snail shells, camp fire ashes, hearth stones, animal bones and tools of bone and flint. It often contains human skeletons. Many present saucer-shaped depressions and hard-packed areas which seem to have been habitation floors. On many of these "floors" hearths or fire places, areas of burned stone, and deep beds of ashes are found V' And echoed by Morel (1974.300): "...un magma de lentilles de rejets qui ont été accumulées dans un désordre total et que les remaniements, la pluie et le vent, le tassement naturel ont, selon l'heureuse expression de L. Balout (1955.392), »moulé en un ensemble«. Les coupures stratigraphiques naturelles que constituent, par exemple, un lit de coquilles écrasées par le piétinement ou une mince couche de sable soufflé par le vent du Sud, y sont rares et toujours discontinues; la stratigraphie artificielle elle-même n'offre pas de garantie absolue." Lubell et al. (1976) estimated the quantity of unbroken shell in a typical Capsian deposit (open-air, deflated, compacted) to be on the order of 25 000 shells/m3, but despite this density we know that land snails were not the major source of animal protein in either the Iberomaurusian (Morel 1978; Saxon et al. 1974) or the Capsian diet (Lubell et al. 1975; 1976). That came from mammals such as aurochs (Bos primigenius), hartebeest (Alcelaphus buselaphus), zebra (Equus mauritanicus), mouflon (Ammotragus lervia), gazelle (Gazella dorcas, G. cuvieri), two lagomorphs (Lepus capensis, Orycto-lagus cuniculus) and perhaps ostrich eggs (Struthio camelus) since the shells were used for both containers and ornaments. Other than the charred bulbs of Allium sp. found in the collections at the Logan Museum (Lubell et al. 1976.919), there is no direct evidence for the vegetal component in the diet. Analyses of charcoal from archaeological deposits (Couvert 1972; 1975; 1976) suggest that nuts (pine, pistachio, oak) and some fruits (carob, juniper) would have been available on a seasonal basis (see also Roubet 2003). This subsistence reconstruction is similar to those from other parts of the Mediterranean region in which land snails are often found in abundance: for example, the Pyrenees (Bahn 1982; Boone 1976; Guilaine 1979), the Italian peninsula, (Mussi et al. 1995), the northern Adriatic (Girod 2003; Miracle 2002), the Aegean (Sampson 1998; Sampson et al. 2002) and the Zagros (Braidwood 1983; Reed 1962; Solecki 1981). It is consistent with the concept of a "broad spectrum" pattern as first proposed by Flan-nery (1969). WHY LAND SNAILS? Archeological evidence cannot tell us who was eating snails, how they were prepared, or whether or not they were part of an 'haute cuisine' or common fare... (Hyman 1986.23) Hyman overstates the uncertainties involved, as the archaeological evidence makes clear (Lubell 2004). The more interesting questions to ask are: Why are land snails such a common item of food refuse in archaeological sites throughout the Mediterranean region that date just prior to the appearance of agricultural economies in the early post-Glacial period of rapid climatic and environmental change? Were 1 The only published plan of such a surface is in Lubell et al. 1975; 1976. 4 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? they a necessity, a luxury or merely an appetizer? Was their use as food restricted by age or gender? Might they have had ritual significance? An examination of data on late Pleistocene and early to middle Holocene palaeoenvironments in the circum-Me-diterranean may assist in answering such questions. PALAEOENVIRONMENTAL EVIDENCE Several recent publications deal with late Pleistocene and Holocene environmental changes in the Mediterranean region. While there are identifiable long-term trends (Marchal et al. 2002; van Andel 2000), the situation is far from uniform and there is sometimes fundamental lack of agreement on how to interpret the available data (Jalut et al. 1997 vs Pons, Que-zel 1998). There has also been considerable debate as to whether or not identified changes should be ascribed to anthropogenic or natural causes (Bintliff 2002). Those studies I have found to be the most useful for my purposes here are Macklin et al. (2002) and Magny et al. (2002), several of the articles in a special issue of The Holocene (vol. 11, no. 6, 2001) and the summary treatment in Roberts (1998). The general consensus seems to be that until at least the latter part of the mid-Holocene (i.e. long after the establishment of agricultural economies in most of the region), any changes observed can be ascribed to globally observed climatic events rather than anthropogenic causes. Macklin et al. (2002.1639-1640) show that three alluviation events dated 21+0.8-26+2, 16±3-19±1 and 12.5+1.5-13±2 ka. can be correlated with abrupt decreases in sea surface temperature in the northeast Atlantic, thus providing evidence "that rapid and high frequency climate change in the North Atlantic during the Last Glacial period had a profound effect not only on the vegetation of the Mediterranean region, but also on catchment erosion and river alluviation" and for "a high degree of synchrony in major river aggradation events across the Mediterranean in catchments with very different tectonic regimes and histories". Gvirtzman and Wieder (2001) studied sequences of palaeosols at seventeen localities along the coastal plain of Israel, and identify six episodes of pedogenesis (indicating wetter conditions) interspersed with seven episodes of sedimentation or accumulation (indicating drier conditions) during the past 53k years. While these two sets of terrestrial sequences are not entirely congruent in terms of chronology - perhaps due in part to time lag as a result of distance from the ice sheets as well as meteorological and oceanic circulation patterns - the number and characteristics of arid episodes seem to me sufficiently similar to corroborate the scenario of Macklin and colleagues. I note the similarities of Holocene climatic variability as seen in marine records from the Mediterranean, the North Atlantic, the GISP2 ice record and elsewhere (Casford et al. 2001.Tab. 4). Magny et al. (2002) use palaeohydrological and other data to show that the Holocene in the Mediterranean region can be divided into an earlier period of cooler and moister conditions and a later one which is warmer and drier (and see also van Andel 2000). The change occurred at ~ 5000 BP and is reflected in the pollen record, numbers of lakes and lake levels, distribution of radiocarbon dates as a reflection of settlement density, and Sapropel event 1 which indicates an increase in discharge of fresh water into the Mediterranean between 8000 and 6000 BP when lake levels were at their highest (see Magny et al. 2002.Fig. 1). Reviewing the record from lake cores in Turkey and Iran as well as other data from the eastern Mediterranean, Roberts et al. (2001b.734) conclude: "All of these proxy-climate data sources are therefore in agreement that the hydroclimatic environment in the Eastern Mediterranean altered significantly during the mid-Holocene from relative water surplus to water deficit." Roberts et al. (2001a.633) show that Holocene climates and environments across the Mediterranean region were neither uniform nor synchronous, and that the available palynological and palaeohydrological data: ...suggests that a complex rather than a simple patterning of Holocene climate change occurred across the circum-Mediterranean region, which is potentially explicable in terms of meridional or longitudinal shifts in atmospheric circulation. In any case, many records indicate rather marked climatic differences between the two halves of the Holocene [the main point of Magny et al. 2002], and this adds convincing weight to the argument that climates in the Mediterranean Basin have been modulated by precessional forcing during the Holocene. In another paper, Roberts et al. (2001b.734) stress the complexity of the overall picture and the likeli- 5 David Lubell hood that 'modern' climatic conditions were not established in the Mediterranean Basin until after 6000 cal. yr BP, presumably linked - directly or otherwise - to changes in the net receipt of solar radiation as a result of precessional forcing". Despite all these uncertainties, which I expect will be resolved as further data are collected and analyzed, I think we can probably accept the generalized picture presented by Roberts etal. (2001a.632; see also Roberts 1998.104): The herb-steppe which surrounded most of the Mediterranean Sea during the late Pleistocene was replaced during the early and mid-Holocene by sub-humid forest, sometimes dominated by conifers, more usually by broad-leaved deciduous trees. Typically mediterranean formations of xeric evergreen forests, shrub and heathland are only rarely represented in early to mid-Holocene pollen diagrams. It must, however, be acknowledged that there is no clear correlation between palaeovegetation patterns and the occurrence of sites with abundant land snails. Plotting the distribution of sites shown in Figure 1 against the vegetation patterns which can be reconstructed from the Review and Atlas of Palaeovegeta-tion: Preliminary land ecosystem maps of the world since the Last Glacial Maximum (Adams et al. on line), indicates no consistent overall associations. Admittedly, this is only a very rough approximation of what would have been complex local patterns, but the lack of any clear correlation between major vegetation zones and site distributions is curious. Other variables (elevation? soil type? edaphic conditions? diurnal temperature ranges?) must no doubt be considered, but that is beyond the scope of this paper. The Maghreb Perhaps the only consistent association is the distribution of Maghreb sites within the zone of Mediterranean scrub, and so it may be useful to look briefly at conditions in the Maghreb, since that is where land snails are most abundant in the archaeological record. During the end of the Iberomaursian and the beginning of the Capsian (i.e., the Younger Dryas), North Africa experienced a relatively arid phase, evidenced in part by lowered water levels in Lake Chad. After 10 000 BP, humidity increased again and vegetation zones of the Sahara appear to have had limits similar to modern ones. Moist conditions continued, reaching a maximum between ca. 9000 and 8000 BP when they were interrupted by a short but severe arid phase found worldwide and dated to 8200 BP (Alley et al. 1997). The effects of this event may have lasted until 7500 BP in North Africa. From ca. 6500 to 5500 BP, conditions became even more arid but were still more humid than today (Adams et al. on-line; Vernet 1995). Ballais (1995), interprets alluvial Holocene terraces in the eastern Maghreb as indicating greater humidity between about 8500 and 5000 BP, which is somewhat at odds with other (admittedly incomplete) evidence. Analyses of charcoal (Couvert 1972; 1975; 1976; Renault-Miskovsky 1985), faunal remains (Bouchud 1975; Lubell 1984; Lubell et al. 1975; 1976; 19821983; 1984; Morel 1974; Pond et al. 1938) pollen and other data (Lamb et al. 1989; 1995; Ritchie 1984), provide a relatively good idea of the climatic and ecological conditions during the Capsian. Vegetation cover was open woodland savanna, probably not too different in many respects from modern East African environments, with Mediterranean forests and maquis at upper elevations and/or where humidity was higher. The 8200 BP event mentioned above is correlated with a change in Capsian technology that has been identified at several sites (Lubell et al. 1984.182-184; Rahmani 2003; Sheppard 1987; Sheppard and Lubell 1990). The land snails found in such abundance at Maghreb archaeological sites provide less than satisfactory data about past climate and environment. The major species are Helix aspersa, H. melanostoma, Leuco-chroa candissima, Helicella setifensis and Otala. sp., and since all still occur in the region today, we have a reasonable idea about the local environmental/ecological conditions they represent. H. aspersa, H. melanostoma (the two largest) and Otala prefer shady, moister habitats, and are known to burrow. L. candissima and H. setifensis are much smaller, have greater tolerance for light and heat, and are often found clustered on the stalks of vegetation, far enough off the ground to avoid excessive heat build up within the shell. However, because all five species are adapted to semi-arid conditions and can aes-tivate for long periods of time, they are able to survive through periods of adverse conditions and are therefore less than perfect indicators of past climate. While their abundance in the sites might suggest that climate was more humid in the past than now, I suspect that modern conditions are more an artifact of environmental degradation brought on by monocropping and poor land conservation practices, a pattern well documented elsewhere in the cir-cum-Mediterranean (e.g. Labaune, Magnin 2002). 6 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? In sum, from the late Pleistocene through to the mid-Holocene, the Maghreb was a very good place to be a hunter-gatherer. As I have suggested before (Lubell 1984), I view the abundance of easily available food resources as a key factor in the late arrival and adoption of Neolithic economic practices, late compared to the rest of the circum-Mediterranean region (but see Roubet 2003). However, this does not tell us why land snails were such a common component in sites elsewhere in the Mediterranean just prior to the appearance of food production and, in some areas, after it was well established. SNAILS AS FOOD Nutritional value There are few comprehensive data available, but the best review I have seen is by Elmslie (n. d.) which confirms the generally held view that snail meat is high in protein and low in fat, with the majority of the fats in the form of polyunsaturates. Despite the high consumption of snails in France (estimates cited by Elmslie are on the order of 30 000 tonnes per annum), the New Larousse Gastronomique is far from complimentary: From a nutritional point of view, snails'flesh has little food value and is rather indigestible. However, it does contain a large quantity of both Vitamin C and mineral salts (calcium, magnesium, etc.). (Montagne 1977.849-850). Snails can also be a fairly labour intensive food source, because in addition to collection, they must be purged before being consumed. To avoid the risk of poisoning, snails must be deprived of food for some time before they are eaten, for they may have fed on plants harmless to themselves but poisonous to humans. Furthermore it is advisable only to eat snails which have sealed themselves into their shells to hibernate. (ibid. 849) This is why it appears that aestivating/hibernating snails, with a sealed operculum, are preferred by modern producers and consumers (Elmslie 1982). Since they do not need to be "purged before eating, they are cooked with the epiphragm in place (i.e. they are not woken up first as the gut seems to be emptied before they go into diapause, and the rate of metabolism in that condition is extremely slow" (Elmslie, pers comm 12/03/2004). Dr. M. Charrier (pers comm. 06/03/2004) contradicts this statement. She says that during dormancy hibernating snails accumulate excretory products in the kidney and the digestive gland and these have such a bad taste that the organs must be removed before cooking the flesh. Therefore, French farmers cook the snails at the end of the growth stage, and those kept during winter are intended to reproduce at the next season. There is a long history of snail consumption in Europe, and especially in France as noted by Davidson (1999) and Hyman (1986), neither of whom mention nutritional value in any meaningful sense. Nor does Mayle (2001) although he provides some useful gastronomical data. Barrau (1983.91) makes only passing mention, while in Hagen (1995.173) we find the interesting anecdote that, "Helix aspersa ... was apparently eaten in Romano-British times, and was still sold in Bristol markets at the beginning of this [the 20th] century under the name 'wall fish'". Bar (1977) provides archaeological, ethnohistorical and ethnographic examples of land snail consumption in the Levant (though not, of course, by either Muslims or Jews). This should be in no way surprising, for the abundance of land snails in semi-arid regions can be truly astonishing, and farmers consider them a crop pest. Even deep in the Sahara and other hot deserts, land snails can be remarkably abundant (e.g. Schmidt-Neilsen et al. 1971), so much so that experimental evidence has shown them to be useful as a survival food (Billingham 1961). The modern and much-touted "Mediterranean diet" especially as found in Crete (e.g. Galanidou pers. comm. 2/2004; Simopoulos on-line) often includes land snails, but there is as yet no reliable data on their contribution to the overall nutritional makeup2. Miracle (1995) interprets the land snails found in Istrian late Pleistocene and early Holocene sites as a low-ranked resource, compared to large ungulates such as giant deer, horse or elk, and argues that they would "enter the diet only in response to extreme shortage of other resources", although he al- 2 Dr. Nena Galanidou (Dept. of History and Archaeology, University of Crete) is beginning a research program on the ethnoarchaeo-logy of modern land snail collection and consumption in Crete where "they form a vital part of modern rural diet and their collection has certain seasonal traits" (pers. comm. 2/2004). 7 David Lubell lows that season may have an effect (pp. 271-2). He goes on to say that "the significant accumulations of land snails at sites like Badanj [in Levels 2a/2b, younger than 12 000 bp, pp. 64, 493-4] and Kopacina [ca. 9000 bp,pp. 76-7] indicate either extreme resource depletion and subsistence hardship for hunter-gatherers, or environmental shifts that forced snails to increasingly seek the shade and moisture of rockshelters...[but that] we lack the detailed ta-phonomic data needed to test these alternative hypotheses" (see also pp. 487-88). Miracle's interpretation of the overall contribution of land snails to the animal protein component of the diet is congruent with the one we reached for Capsian escargotières in Algeria (Lubell et al. 1976), a view echoed by Morel (1974; 1977; 1978; 1980) for the Maghreb and by Girod (2003) for the northern Adriatic region 3. However, none of us has as yet looked carefully into the nutritional value of land snails or their importance in the evolution of human diet as has been done for other molluscs (e.g. Ack-man 1989; Broadhurst et al. 1998; 2002; Chenor-kian 1989; Crawford et al. 1999; Meehan 1982; Nestle 1999; Waselkov 1987). Appendix 1 provides data on the carcass composition of land snails which has been culled from a number of sources. Unfortunately, these data are rather uneven, only two of the analyses (Gi and I) are based on populations that can be considered to have been "wild", and the units of measurement used are not always easy to compare4. Table 1 summarizes basic nutritional data values derived from Appendix 1 and adds data from two other studies. Land snails have a high water content (80% or more in all but one case), confirming the experimental observations of Billingham (1961). Protein value fluctuates widely, perhaps because of what the snails are eating (especially in those cases where commercial feeds are used), but the method of sample preparation and analysis may also have an ef- fect on this. Total fat (i.e. lipid) content tends to be quite low and is apparently independent of size since the values given here are similar to those for the giant African land snail Archachatina marginata (Ajayi et al. 1978; Imevbore, Ademosun 1988) and for another giant snail (Achatina fulica) and the apple snail (Ampullarius insularis) in Korea (Lee et al. 1994). Land snails contain more crude protein and less fat than chicken (Elmslie 1982.24, Elmslie n.d.), and are therefore a lower source of energy (measured in cals/100 g) for humans than chicken (and presumably ruminant) flesh. Land snails contain all the essential amino acids required by humans, but in amounts so small that a diet based largely or entirely on land snails for animal protein would not provide sufficient amounts for adequate nutrition (Grandi, Panella 1978; Imevbore, Ademosun 1988.81). Land snails also contain the five essential unsaturated fatty acids (Grandi, Panella 1978), but again in rather small amounts and with much less of the ro-3 group (considered so important to development of brain and vision function in uteroand during the first two years of life) than the ro-6 group5 although unpublished data cited by Elmslie (n.d.) may, if confirmed, require revision of this interpretation. Whether or not the nutritional value of land snails is affected by season of collection seems to be uncertain. In those regions where they are collected intensively (e.g. Greece and Bulgaria), there are government regulations that restrict the season of collection to ensure adequate population replacement (Elmslie n.d.). It is also uncertain whether or not the fatty acid composition of land snails changes seasonally: one study, conducted in the Netherlands (van der Horst, Zandee 1973) says they do not, whereas another conducted on Italian land snails suggests they do (Cantoni et. al. 1978). I interpret these data as confirmation that land snails could not have been a primary food resource, and certainly not a major source of animal flesh for for- 3 Erlandson (1988.106), discussing the role of shellfish in prehistoric economies, suggests that "In mixed economies (both agricultural and hunter-gatherer), therefore, a protein perspective suggests that there may be nothing inconsistent with large shell middens reflecting relatively sedentary occupations where shellfish [and therefore I would argue, land snails] served as a long-term dietary protein staple". 4 In other molluscs, e.g. the Australian abalone Haliotis rubra, there may be marked differences in polyunsaturated fatty acid content of the flesh between wild and cultured specimens depending on the source and type of nutrients (Su et al. 2004). 5 For a review on the "essential" aspect of fatty acids, see Cunnane (2003). Imevbore and Ademosun (1988.83), writing about the giant African land snail Archacatina marginata, say that "since snail meat appears to be intermediate in essential and polyunsa-turated fatty acids, it may not possess any outstanding nutritional and physiological characteristics much different from the other samples tested along with it". These were beef, chicken, goat, mutton, pork and two species of fish (Tilapia macracephala and Clarias lazera). 8 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? aging populations. They would not supply sufficient nutrition or energy, even in the enormous quantities apparently consumed by groups in the Maghreb, and they would have been a seasonal rather than a year-round resource. As with other molluscs, their visibility in the archaeological record is high, but the food value represented by the mass of empty shells is not always commensurate with appearances - a point made especially by Paul Bahn (1982; 1983). Nonetheless, if we accept the characterization of the "paleolithic diet" of Eaton and Eaton (2000.Tab. 2), land snails, if consumed in sufficient quantities, could have provided a significant amount of low fat protein as well as the minerals, amino acids and fatty acids required for human nutrition (Appendix 1, Table 1, and the data in Grandi, Panella 1978). Because they were almost certainly eaten cooked (see Wandsnider 1997 for a discussion of prehistoric cooking methods), water content is probably not a particularly important variable, and the low lipid content means that they would have had to be supplemented by other resources to achieve sufficient caloric input. LAND SNAILS AND THE BROAD SPECTRUM REVOLUTION How then, are we to interpret the consistent presence, and indeed abundance, of land snails in circum-Mediterranean archaeological sites dating just prior to the advent of agriculture? The generally held view is that when large numbers of land snails occur in late Pleistocene and early Holocene sites they are best seen as one component, normally a minor one, in a subsistence strategy that incorporated what had previously been "less preferred resources" (Gebauer, Price 1992.3; see also Flannery 2000)6. But this leaves unanswered questions as to whether or not land snails were a controlled and harvested resource (Fernandez-Armesto 2002) or more an indicator of feasting events than of everyday diet (Miracle 2002). Biology and ecology of land snails To investigate such questions we need to know something about the biology and ecology of land snails. In this section I have relied heavily on The Biology of Terrestrial Molluscs (Barker 2001) and several of the papers cited by the contributors to that volume. There are thousands of species of land snails, each with its own characteristics, but there are a series of general traits that we can focus on here. Because they have no physiological means of controlling intake or loss of moisture other than sealing themselves in their shell, and are relatively intolerant of extreme cold or heat (with certain significant exceptions - see, e.g. Schmidt-Nielsen et al. 1972), land snails have evolved physiological responses to deal with cold (hibernation) and heat or drought (aestivation) that allow them to survive extended periods without taking in nourishment. This, combined with the fact that they are also hermaphrodites and can on occasion self-fertilize, means that land snail evolution has been rather slow and polymorphism is quite common. Cooke (191337-39) cites a number of examples of land snails that survived up to five years of aestivation after which, in one 19th century instance, a single Helix lactea placed in an herbarium, reproduced offspring. However, both Gomot de Vaufleury (2001.343) and Heller (2001a) Appendix 1 Grandi and Panella Lee et al. X±16a (1978)b (1994)c H20 78.9 ± 9.2 79.46 - 80.50 81.20 - 82.36 Protein 38.6 ± 24.1 12.94 - 14.56 11.53 - 13.69 Carbohydrates (or ash) 3.0 ± 1.0 1.42 - 1.90 1.25 - 1.39 Lipids 4.3 ± 2.8 0.63 - 1.70 0.91 - 1.28 Minerals 2.1 ± 1.6 .006 - .008 Essential amino acids 2.5 ± 2.4d 42.00 - 49.71 Essential PUFAs 0.4 ± 0.1e 13.8 - 18.1 a Data are g/100g raw. b Data are percentage ranges for Helix aspersa, H. lucorum and H. pomatia except for minerals and PUFAs which are only for H. aspersa and H. lucorum and the latter is the percentage of all fatty acids. c Data are g/100g edible portion for cultivated Achatina fulica and Ampullarius insularus. d 41.9% of all amino acids e 34.6% of all fatty acids Tab. 1. Nutritional composition of land snails. 6 Flannery cites the evidence for land snails in the Mousterian levels at Devil's Tower, Gibraltar (in Garrod et al. 1928) as indicating even earlier broad spectrum patterns. As with the Pre-Aurignacian deposits at Haua Fteah (Klein and Scott 1986; Hey 1967), I believe the case for subsistence use at such an early date has yet to be demonstrated. 9 David Lubell make it clear that the majority of pulmonate land snails breed by mating and outcrossing. Most land snails are iteroparous (several reproductive periods, usually one each year for a number of years) although some are semelparous (only one reproductive period, after which the organism dies). They lay eggs in clutches, most often in holes excavated into the ground, and almost always during periods (seasons?) of increased moisture. Clutches vary widely in size - from as few as ten to as many as several hundred eggs - depending on the species and on soil and moisture conditions. Dessication has a marked effect on rates of egg mortality, and studies show that location with reference to prevailing climate can be critical. For example, in the Negev the rate of hatching was 100% for eggs laid on a northern slope, but less than half (46%) for those laid on a southern slope and thus more exposed to the sun (Yom-Tov 1971). In northern Greece, 25% to 38% mortality is attributed to dessication (studies cited in Heller 2001a). Even under the best of conditions, not all eggs will reproduce, not all will hatch at the same time, and some cannibalism by earlier hatching snails may occur. Land snails are normally more active after dusk and when the ground is damp. They tend to be herbivorous, but there are some species better classed as omnivores and many can be carnivorous when the opportunity presents itself. They normally eat only small amounts of grasses, leaves are a minor dietary element, but stems, fruits and flowers are common dietary items. Senescent plant material is preferred, probably because of low toxin content (Speiser 2001). All land snails require some calcium in the diet for shell building, and this may come either from the soil or from shell and bone of dead animals. Dietary preferences are species-specific but also change seasonally. The tendency appears to be reduction of competition for resources so that "the dynamics of the populations [are] not influenced by the availability of specific resources" (Hatziionannou et al. 1994.340). Taking all of this into account, I conclude that intensive collection of land snails by humans would require not only a reasonably thorough knowledge of seasonal availability of the different plants preferred by different snail species, but also some understanding of land snail reproductive biology. Gomot de Vaufleury (2001) reviews growth and reproduction in land snails. She points out that photo-period length influences reproduction: the fewer hours of daylight, the lower the rate of egg laying, spermatogenesis and reproductive output. There are inter-specific differences, but the general principle obtains for all. Temperature is also an influence. While reproduction can occur in a range from 5°-25°C, much higher rates occur in the range of 20°-25°C. Furthermore, maturation takes place far more rapidly in temperatures above 15°C with a long-day photoperiod. Land snails living in temperate regions often hibernate during the winter, and during this time game-togenesis may cease completely and then resume prior to the end of the hibernation cycle: "the longer the hibernation period (up to 18 months evaluated), the sooner the mating behaviour occurred at the break of hibernation and the higher the reproductive output." (ibid. 335) Tompa (1984.124-125) provides some data on the time from egg laying (oviposition) to hatching. There appears to be considerable variability, depending on size of snails, size of clutch, season and temperature. In temperate climates, eggs laid in autumn may overwinter and not hatch until the following spring. In other cases, eggs may hatch in autumn but the animals are not mature until the following summer. Chevallier (1979.Fig. 14) suggests that although adult size is attained within one year, it takes an average of two years for Helix to reach maturity, whether raised under controlled or "natural" conditions. These estimates are corroborated by papers on modern snail farming (Elmslie et al.1986) which provide additional data on controlled breeding and raising. I have been unable to find anything equivalent for "wild" land snails. Many species live less than two years, but a number of the larger ones and especially the Helicidae which include the edible species most often found in archaeological deposits, can live between five and 15 years (Heller 1990.Tab. 3). To some extent, but especially amongst those species that inhabit unpredictable environments such as the semi-arid and deser-tic regions of North Africa and the Levant, the less favourable the environmental conditions the longer-lived the land snails (ibid. 270). Thus, reconstruction of palaeoenvironmental conditions (using species lists of land snails in addition to other proxy data), may be key to understanding how human populations relied on land snails as a food resource. A series of studies by Goodfriend (1988; 1991; 1992; Margaritz, Goodfriend 1987) have made a start in this direction, but more needs to be done. 10 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? Heller (2001a; see also Heller 1988), reviewing life history strategies, points out that predation affects survival, as does cannibalism of eggs by hatchlings. Predation by rodents, especially in arid and semiarid regions, may lead to the accumulation of substantial middens of shell (Yom-Tov 1970), and at least one documented instance of massive predation by wild boar (Sus scrofa) reduced the adult snail population by 50% (Heller and Ittiel 1990). This allowed smaller individuals to grow to adult size whereas previously competition had kept them small. Heller and Ittiel suggest that the mucus left behind as a result of snail locomotion is a factor in reducing competition for resources by keeping down the number of adolescent individuals. This may have implications for human predation and control of land snails as a resource, especially if snails were kept in an enclosure prior to consumption - either bred there or collected and conserved there. This leads to a whole range of possible considerations on the taphonomy of land snail shell middens such as those found in the Maghreb, where rodent burrows are ubiquitous. In almost all the instances I have observed, the presence of modern macrobota-nical materials in the burrows argues against anything other than disturbance of the archaeological deposits by rodents. Nonetheless, some disturbance may be very ancient, if (as seems likely) sites were recolonized by snails and rodents during periods of non-occupation by humans (see Lubell et al. 19821983). We did, at one time, consider the possibility that abandoned escargotières would have been attractive habitats for land snails, thus leading to the large numbers of sites - occupation of one by a group who then collected snails at neighbouring sites. Unfortunately, the resolution of the archaeological record (or at least our data) is too coarse to test this hypothesis. The idea would, in any case, really only apply to the Maghreb where there are hundreds of contiguous, coeval open-air sites (Gré-bénart 1975; Lubell et al. 1976.Fig. 1) that could have functioned as "snail farms". It is not applicable in areas such as the Pyrenees or the northern Adriatic where sites are in rockshelters or caves, in neither of which would there be naturally occurring concentrations of land snails of the size and density found in archaeological deposits despite some suggestions to the contrary (Bahn 1982; Girod 2003; Guilaine 1979 vs. Aparicio 2001; de Barandiaran 1947). Reviewing land snail ecology, Cook (2001.453) makes the point that: "In population studies of terrestrial gastropods, many species have been found to exhibit a decline in abundance in both the summer and winter. In some cases, this probably represents a genuine decline in numbers, but in others it is best interpreted as substantial proportions of the population becoming inactive and therefore not being sampled." The onset and termination of both hibernation and aestivation are controlled largely by prevailing weather conditions rather than endogenously (ibid. 456), however diurnal activities (i.e. circadian rhythm) are controlled by both endogenous factors and external ones such as length of day and amount of humidity (ibid.). Thus, "while the relationship between activity and weather is an important aspect of the control of behaviour, it is not a simple one" (ibid. 457). Nor is the relationship between land snail populations and the environments in which they are found. LaBaune and Magnin (2002) studied land snail communities in overgrazed Mediterranean uplands and make some observations of interest here. The number of xerophilic open-ground snails decreases when the grassland remains ungrazed, but a homogeneous grazed herb layer significantly reduces snail diversity and abundance. A low richness and diversity of land snail communities is associated with large patches of grazed grassland, mainly with a continuous herb layer 5-cm high. On the other hand, the highest diversity is observed for communities living in scrublands or in smaller patches of grassland. Thus, heterogeneity seems to favour snail diversity both at the local and landscape scales. At the local level, the heterogeneity of vegetation (horizontal and vertical) and a complex cover of the soil surface enable more species to co-exist. At the landscape level, heterogeneity has an effect on land snail dispersal and on microclimate (LaBaune, Magnin 2002.243). I take all these observations to mean that under prehistoric conditions, in which overgrazing is unlikely to have been a problem, both diversity and abundance of land snails would have been sufficient to enable extensive, and at times intensive, collection by humans without seriously impairing the survival of land snail populations as a predictable natural resource. However, a question remains. How "productive" are land snails? If we are going to consider seriously the proposition that prehistoric groups cultivated land snails as op- 11 David Lubell posed to harvesting them as a wild resource, we need to look more carefully at questions of population control, breeding and productivity. Fernandez-Armesto (2002.56) proposes that: "Land varieties can be isolated in a designated breeding ground by enclosing a snail-rich spot with a ditch. By culling small or unfavored types by hand the primitive snail farmer would soon enjoy the benefits of selective breeding. Snails are grazers and do not need to be fed with foods which would otherwise be wanted for human consumption. They can be raised in abundance and herded without the use of fire, without any special equipment, without personal danger and without the need to select and train lead animals or dogs to help." The literature on snail farming suggests to me that this is an oversimplification (Elmslie n.d.). As an example, Elmslie (1982.23) draws a distinction between "part life-cycle farming" and "complete life-cycle farming". In the former, wild snails are collected when abundant, kept in paddocks formed by simple wire fencing (in which the ground is carefully prepared), and fed on either natural vegetation or a mixture of salad vegetables and brassicas until market conditions are right for maximum profit. I suppose something similar to this scenario might, in a few instances, be a plausible approximation of what took place in the prehistoric past (and I admit the Capsian escargotières could be one such possibility), but in reality I believe it is far more likely that land snails were sometimes an intensively harvested, rather than a cultivated, resource. The key to resolving this may be modern data on population biology for both wild and captive modern populations. Some data are available for wild populations in the Mediterranean region (e.g. André 1982; Cameron et al. 2003; Heller 2001b; Iglesias, Castillejo 1999; Kiss, Magnin 2003; Staikou et al. 1988) and elsewhere (Greenwood 1974; 1976; Lange, Mwinzi 2003). However, other than the papers by Greenwood and by Staikou et al., they are not that helpful in this instance because most are concerned with species diversity rather than with actual population numbers and densities of single species or a limited number of edible species. Greenwood (1974; 1976) studied populations of Ce-pea nemoralis, a species analogous to the edible snails found in archaeological sites, in the Derbyshire Dales of the north midlands of England. He estimates that for populations with densities of 0.1, 1.5 and 10/m2, neighbourhood sizes (an expression of population) would be 190, 2850 and 12 000 respectively. Given his estimates for a generation interval of about four years, relatively constant annual production of juveniles, an average adult lifespan of approximately 2.4 years, mean lifetime production of young of 99.6 with a variance of 10 811 (!), and survivorship of at least 50%, it is clear that a population of 3000 adults (some of which would breed hermaphroditically) can produce an enormous number of offspring. Staikou and colleagues (1988) spent four years studying a population of wild land snails in a 400 m2 fenced off area in northern Greece. Four helicid species were present: Helix lucorum, Monacha cartu-siana, Bradybaena fruticum and Cepea vindobo-nensis. Although only H. lucorum is considered an edible snail today, B. fruticum and C. vindobonen-sis are within the size range, and have some of the ecological characteristics, of the smaller species found in Capsian sites. Mean population densities (number of individuals/m2 ± 1sd) over a three year period were: H. lucorum (4.95 ± 2.12) M. cartusia-na (6.94 ± 2.77), B. fruticum (6.36 ± 1.25) and C. vindobonensis (1.42 ± 0.06). It is not clear from the publication how many of the individuals were mature (i.e. of edible size), nor were densities uniform across the entire sampling area. Nonetheless, if we use very conservative figures and say that only 50% could be considered mature at any one time, the total average numbers available to collect would be on the order of: 1000 H. lucorum, 1200 B. fruticum and 300 C. vindobonensis for a total of 2500 snails. For H. lucorum only, Staikou and colleagues estimate the mean annual crop (biomass) at 4.04gm-2 and an annual production of 5.02gm-2. These hardly seem values high enough to provide anything like sufficient protein annually for a group of foragers. In this light, I am dubious about the sort of figures one finds on websites devoted to snail farming. The following is only one of many possible examples. Using a control group of200 Helix aspersa (Brown Garden) snails, under ideal conditions, we created a large number of market size snails in a three-year period. The following figures are based on this three-year study. Taking the 200 snails with a laying capacity of 150 eggs each during the spring and summer months we figured on having approx. 30 000 snails at the end of our first year of production. With a reali- 12 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? zation that we should expect a normal mortality of40-50% from all causes we should then have something around 15 000 snails survive with half of these ready to produce 75 eggs each. This produces 562 500 snails if all survived. We again figured a 50% mortality rate, by the end of the third cycle something like 17 million snails would be produced if all lived. A more realistic figure of those growing to maturity would be something like 1/16th, or 1 000 000plus. (www.frescargot.com/expect.htm) Studies of species diversity and population biology for land snail populations on Crete (Cameron et al. 2003) and for Helix aspersa in north-western Spain (Iglesias et al. 1996) do not provide data equivalent to those found in Greenwood (1974; 1976), but they do suggest that his estimates are applicable to populations in semi-arid Mediterranean environments and even in arid ones (e.g. Heller 2001b) as do those of Staikou et al. (1988) discussed above. Given these data, and the fact that most land snail species prefer dead plant material to fresh and herbs to grasses (e.g. Williamson, Cameron 1976), I am not convinced that raising land snails would have been all that more advantageous in most instances than relying simply on their natural fecundity to provide sufficient numbers to meet human dietary requirements. I believe this is also borne out by the data available for captive, "domesticated" modern populations (e.g. Elmslie 1982; n.d.; www.lumache-elici.com; links found at www.manandmollusc.net) which show that raising snails is a far more complex activity than the procedures discussed by Fernandez-Arme-sto, and far more prone to failure. For example, this is from the U.S. Department of Agriculture website www.nalusda.gov/afsic/AFSIC_ pubs/srb96-05.htm#. Population density also affects successful snail production. Pens should contain no more than six to eight fair-sized snails per square foot, or about four large H. pomatia; or figure one kilogram per square meter (about .2 pounds of snail per square foot), which automatically compensates for the size of the snails. If you want them to breed, best results will occur with not more than eight snails per square meter (.8 snails per square foot). Some sources say that, for H. pomatia to breed, .2 to .4 snails per square foot is the maximum. Snails tend not to breed when packed too densely or when the slime in the pen accumulates too much. The slime apparently works like a phero-mone and suppresses reproduction. On the other hand, snails in groups of about 100 seem to breed better than when only a few snails are confined together. Perhaps they have more potential mates from which to choose. Snails in a densely populated area grow more slowly even when food is abundant, and they also have a higher mortality rate. These snails then become smaller adults who lay fewer clutches of eggs, have fewer eggs per clutch, and the eggs have a lower hatch rate. CONCLUDING REMARKS Fig. 2. Did Mesolithic foragers dream of becoming Neolithic farmers and herders? Originally published in Guilaine (1987.124). Reprinted with permission. This enquiry is a work-in-progress. I cannot honestly say that I have so far been able to answer satisfactorily many of the questions initially asked although I am convinced that the answer to the question posed in the title - Are land snails a signature for the Me-solithic-Neolithic transition? -is an unequivocal "yes"; a point made in a humorous fashion by the late Pierre Lau- 13 David Lubell rent (Fig. 2). Here, and in a complementary paper (Lubell 2004), I have shown that there is a pattern and I have tried to offer some idea of how I think we might go about answering those questions. Land snails are often very abundant in late Pleistocene and early-mid Holocene sites throughout the Mediterranean region and elsewhere. In the vast majority of cases they represent evidence for prehistoric human diet. Given their geographic distribution and time frame, these sites, or levels within them, must have something to do with changes that were taking place as human groups underwent the transition from foraging to food production - sometimes known as the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition, sometimes as the Neolithic Revolution, sometimes as the Broad Spectrum Revolution. No matter what name we choose to give it, the pattern is there, it is intriguing, and it requires further interdisciplinary research to clarify just what the presence of all those land snail shells means. -ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS- An essay such as this, in which one ventures far outside one's area of expertise, requires the cooperation of many colleagues. For their gracious responses to my ill-informed enquiries about the lipid chemistry of molluscs, I am indebted to Robert Ackman (Dalhousie University), C. Leigh Broadhurst (22nd Century Nutrition, Inc.), Bernard Fried (Lafayette College), Kenneth Storey (Carleton University) and Annette de Vaufleury (Université de Franche-Comté). Joseph Heller (Hebrew University) and R.A.D. Cameron (University of Sheffield) both provided insight into land snail ecology. Leslie J. Elmslie (Rome) generously allowed me to see his unpublished data and provided copies of Italian publications on land snail carcass composition that I would have otherwise missed. Dr. Maryvonne Charrier (UMR EcoBio 6553, Université de Rennes 1) provided several helpful comments on an earlier draft. For their prompt responses to my many enquiries, I am grateful to Pablo Arias (Universidade de Cantabria), Paul Bahn (Hull, UK), Robert Chenorkian (Economies, Sociétés et Environnements Préhistoriques, Aix-en-Provence), Josef Eiwanger (Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Bonn), Kitty Emery (Florida Museum of Natural History), William Farrand (University of Michigan), Alberto Girod (Laboratorio di Malacologia Applicata, Milano), Haskel Greenfield (University of Manitoba), Eva Lenneis (Universität Wien), Andrew Malof (Austin, TX), Preston Miracle (Cambridge University), Marcel Otte (Université de Liège), Noura Rahmani (Montreal, PQ), Adamantios Sampson (University of the Aegean), Janet Ridout-Sharpe (CABI Inc.), Dominique Sacchi (CNRS Carcassone), Ralph and Rose Solecki (Columbia University), Lawrence Straus (University of New Mexico), Laurens Thissen (Amsterdam) and Xiaohong Wu (University of Beijing). None of those mentioned above can be held responsible for what are no doubt my numerous errors and mis-statements. I am grateful for suggestions made by colleagues attending the two conferences at which preliminary versions of these ideas were presented and to the organizers of those conferences: Jean-Philip Brugal and Jean Desse (CÉPAM, Sophia Antipolis, Valbonne) - XXIVe Rencontres Internationales d'Archéologie et d'Histoire d'Antibes "Petits Animaux et Sociétés Humaines"; Mihael Budja (University of Ljubljana), 10th International Neolithic Seminar - "The Neolithization of Eurasia: Paradigms, Models and Concepts Involved". My participation in both was in part made possible by a grant from the HFASSR fund, University of Alberta. This paper began in 1966when Ralph Solecki assigned me a seminar project to find out if the land snails occurring in the upper levels at Shanidar Cave could be used for palaeoenvironmental reconstruction. He could never have suspected where this would take us! I owe a debt I can now never repay to the late Alonzo Pond whose research in North Africa formed the basis from which my own began. Achiel Gautier (Rijksuniversiteit-Gent) started that quest with me and we have continued to share ideas ever since. As always, I thank Mary Jackes for her encouragement and help over almost that many years. Finally, I thank the Inter-Library Loan Services of the University of Alberta Library for never failing me. Figure 1 is slightly modified from an original prepared by Michael Fisher, Department ofEarth and Atmospheric Sciences, University of Alberta for Lubell (2004). Laurens Thissen pointed out errors which have been rectified in the version used here. Figure 2 is reproduced by permission of Professor Jean Guilaine (Collège de France). 14 Are land snails a signature for the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition? REFERENCES ABELL P. I. 1985. 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Appendix 1: Composition of land snail flesha a A B C D E F G1 G2 H I J water g 81.9 58.4 81.9 82.8 84.2 84.3 79.4 ash g 2.6 4.4 13.0 10.1 1.9 calories g 180.0 nitrogen g 2.0 protein g 12.8 32.2 70.6 12.9 16.1 60.6 65.0 12.3 carbohydrate g 4.0 2.0 total fat g 1.2 2.8 6.7 1.7 4.5 9.0 0.6 saturated fatty acids g 0.8 20.1 0.1 monounsaturated fatty acids g 0.8 16.8 0.1 polyunsaturated fatty acids g 0.6 0.1 total ffl-6 49.0 total ffl-3 7.8 cholesterol mg 65.0 total minerals g 0.8 calcium mg 57.0 170.0 1787.5 764.5 copper mg 3.0 12.1 2.5 iron mg 5.0 3.5 25.6 2.9 magnesium mg 250.0 503.1 77.3 potassium mg 347.0 100.0 161.7 phosporus mg 141.0 200.0 1213.6 130.3 sodium mg 206.0 259.0 59.1 zinc mg 1.6 1.6 93.3 1.2 AMINO ACIDS (* = essential) alanine mg 348.0 1.92 0.67 arginine mg 818.0 4.52 0.62 aspartic acid mg 1124.0 6.21 1.27 cysteine mg 0.21 glutamic acid mg 1765.0 9.75 1.90 glycine mg 333.0 1.84 1.02 histidine mg 394.0 2.18 0.18 isoleucine* mg 403.0 2.23 0.63 leucine* mg 887.0 4.90 0.92 lysine* mg 847.0 4.68 0.53 methionine* mg 1015.0 5.61 0.24 phenylalanine* mg 422.0 2.33 0.50 proline mg 425.0 2.35 1.05 serine mg 630.0 3.48 0.60 threonine* mg 226.0 1.25 0.55 tryptophan* mg 0.12 tyrosine mg 972.0 5.37 0.48 valine* mg 1111.0 6.14 0.56 FATTY ACIDS (* = essential and unsaturated following Cunnane 2003: Table 1) 12:0 0.21 13:0 0.04 Myristic 14:0 mg 890.0 1.48 0.28 0.38 15:0 0.26 Palmitic 16:0 mg 105.0 6.01 8.00 10.10 4.32 4.65 Palmitoleic 16:1 mg 29.0 1.70 1.80 1.08 0.66 23 David Lubell a A B C D E F G1 G2 H I J Heptadecanoic 17:0 mg 12.0 1.13 1.37 0.66 Stearic 18:0 mg 85.0 11.12 10.20 12.28 8.11 8.62 Oleic 18:1n-9 mg 178.0 14.38 12.60 30.00 16.64 10.70 8.91 Linoleate 18:2 ffl-6* mg 118.0 19.57 20.00 25.42 12.19 10.39 ?-Linoleate 18:3 ffl-3* mg 18.0 0.97 1.00 2.00 2.28 2.46 Octadecatetraenoate 18:4 ffl-3 1.79 Arachidic 20:0 mg 3.7 0.61 0.36 Gadoleic 20:1 mg 20.0 3.09 3.05 5.19 20:2 ffl-6 mg 11.17 10.47 11.37 20:3 ffl-6 mg 17.09 2.41 0.42 arachidonic 20:4 ffl-6* mg 65.0 14.10 15.61 18.69 eicosapentaenoic 20:5 ffl-3* mg 220.0 1.03 1.00 22:0 0.84 erucic 22:1 mg 2.6 2.53 0.94 22:2 2.61 22:3 3.34 22:4 6.59 clupanodonic 22:5 ffl-3 mg 7.7 1.54 3.27 docosahexaenoic 22:6 ffl-3* mg 45.0 24:0 1.72 other before 18:0 1.77 other after 18:0 2.00 unidentified 0.84 A Scherz et al. (2000). Helixpomatia L., 100g edible portion. Units of measure as per column a. B Hui (1996.Tab. 13.6). Steamed or poached: contents/100g. Units of measure as per column a. C Miletic et al. (1991). H. pomatia, freeze-dried and ground. With exception of water, estimated gravimetrically. Units of mea- sure are % dry matter. D Zhu, N et al. (1994). Average for Helixsp. + Haplotrema sportella + Vespericola columbiana. Units of measure are mean % of total fatty acids. E Salvini et al. (on-line). H. pomatia per 100g edible. Units of measure as per column a. F Fineli Food Composition Database (1999-2002) National Public Health Institute, Finland (http://www.ktl.fi/fineli/). Units of measure as per column a. Gi Gomot (1998.Tab. 2). Values are g/100g for "natural" (i.e. not fed on commercial meal) H. pomatia and H. lucorum,calcula- ted on dry matter. Units of measure as per column a. G2 Gomot (1998.Tabs. 2 and4). Values are averages of foot and viscera combined in g/100g for H.a.aspersa, H. aspersa ma- xima, H. lucorum and H. pomatia fed on E3-2 commercial meal, calculated on dry matter. Units of measure as per column a. H Bonomi et al. (1986). Industrially raised H. pomatia maior. Units of measure as per column a. I van der Horst and Zandee (1973). Wild Cepea nemoralis. Average of seven monthly values in mol per cent (the amount of each fatty acid present as a percentage of the total fatty acids recovered). J Thiele and Kröber (1963) as given in Voogt (1972.Tab. X!). Values are free fatty acids expressed as %. For C17:0 this is 17:0 + 16:2. a Data from Grandi and Panella (1978) are not included because they are expressed in a way that makes it difficult to compare with the values reported here. They are summarized in Table 1 and discussed in the text. contents 24 UDK 903'12/'15(4)"633/634":314.18 Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel1 and Jérôme Dubouloz2 1 CNRS, EP 2147 44 Paris, France bocquet-appel@ivry.cnrs.fr 2 CNRS, UMR 7041, "Protohistoire Européenne", Nanterre, France ABSTRACT - A signal of major demographic change was detected from a palaeoanthropological database of 68 Meso-Neolithic cemeteries in Europe (reduced to 36 due to a sampling bias). The signal is characterized by a relatively abrupt change in the proportion of immature skeletons (aged 5-19 years), relative to all buried skeletons (5 years +). From the Meso to the Neolithic, the proportion rose from approximately 20% to 30%. This change reflects a noticeable increase in the birth rate over a duration of about500-700years, and is referred to as the Neolithic Demographic Transition (NDT). Another category of independent archaeological data, on enclosures (N = 694), which are interpreted as a response to population growth within the social area, reveals a similar signal at the same tempo. If this is a true signal, we should expect it to be detected also in all the independent centres of agricultural invention worldwide. The NDT is at the historical root of the pre-industrial populations that would gradually spread across the Earth and which are now rapidly disappearing. IZVLEČEK - Na osnovipaleoantropološke baze podatkov iz 68 evropskih mezo-neolitskih grobišč (zaradi pristranskih vzorcev zmanjšanih na 36) smo ugotovili večjo demografsko spremembo, za katero je značilna razmeroma nenadna sprememba deleža nerazvitih skeletov (starost 5 do 19 let) glede na vse pokopane skelete (5 let in več). Od mezolitika do neolitika to razmerje naraste od okoli 20% na 30%. Ta sprememba kaže na znaten porast deleža rojstev v obdobju 500 do 700 let in se nanaša na neolitski demografski prehod. Druga skupina neodvisnih, zaključenih arheoloških podatkov (N = 694) iz socialnega okolja, kijih razlagamo kot odgovor na rast prebivalstva, kaže podobno spremembo v enakem tempu. Če je znak za spremembo pravilen, lahko pričakujemo, da ga bodo zaznali v vseh neodvisnih središčih začetka kmetovanja po svetu. Neolitski demografski prehod je zgodovinski začetek predindustrijske populacije, ki se je postopoma razširila po Zemlji in ki danes hitro izginja. KEY WORDS - Neolithic; demographic transition; cemeteries distribution; enclosures distribution INTRODUCTION The impact of the demographic change generated by the Meso-Neolithic transition on a European scale is mainly evident in the very significant increase in archaeological remains, but the pace of this change and its magnitude have not really been measured: was it, on average, slow or rapid? Did this major transformation in a way of life correspond to a relatively abrupt demographic change, with a significant increase in the number of humans, i.e. in the language of demographers, to a demographic transition? Or should we be considering rather slow growth, with no sign of any kind of demographic revolution? A Neolithic demographic transition (NDT) can be detected through at least two types of data: palaeo-an-thropological and archaeological. The first are represented by the distribution of skeletons by age in cemeteries. These distributions allow the generating demographic parameters to be directly inferred via the demographic theory of stable population (dating 25 Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel and Jérôme Dubouloz back to Lotka 1928; see Bourgeois-Pichat 1994, for a presentation). The archaeological data can also account for the change through variations in their density (quantity of information per geographical or temporal unit); assuming a roughly linear relationship between demographic density and archaeological density, we can indeed expect to see significant population growth producing a corresponding increase in archaeological information, and vice-versa: where remains are numerous, the population must also have been large; an archaeological desert means that there was nobody. The question thus arises as to which unit of archaeological information is relevant as a reflection of demographic change. The genetic data will be omitted here. Recent validations of contradictory genetic models that are taken into account for the distribution of markers in Europe -some of which indicate a Neolithic population movement originating in the Middle East (for a summary, see Cavalli-Sforza 1997), others a Palaeolithic movement originating in a Pyrenean refuge zone (Tor-roni et al. 2001; Forster et al. 2001) - leave the attentive observer in some doubt as to the chronological resolution of scenarios that can be tested against genetic data over periods of less than 50 000 years. Palaeoanthropological data from cemeteries are still the best candidates for detecting demographic change. They make it possible to obtain a simple non-conventional demographic indicator on the distribution of skeletons by age, the information being represented by the proportion of immature individuals aged 5 to 19 years in cemeteries. In a growing population, the proportion of immature individuals (living or dead) is high; in a declining population, the proportion is low. Besides the palaeoanthropo-logical data, we also looked for an independent archaeological marker. This is represented by enclosures. During a period when significant demographic growth occurred, a corresponding increase can be assumed in the number of constructions for collective use, such as places of worship, military establishments, cemeteries, markets, mills, etc. An NDT signal was detected from a palaeoanthropologic database of Mesolithic and Neolithic cemeteries, representing a space-time sample of this proportion on the scale of Europe (Bocquet-Appel 2002; Bocquet-Appel and Paz de Miguel Ibanez 2002). The questions that arise are: is the change detected from the palaeoan-thropologic data echoed by the number of enclosures and enclosure systems? Do these two data categories, palaeoanthropological and archaeological, point in the same direction to represent the pace and range of a Meso-Neolithic demographic change, or do they show discordances, bringing the assumption of an NDT into doubt? If the NDT hypothesis is accepted, what was its pattern, i.e. in which direction was the variation in mortality and birth rates? What was its magnitude in terms of growth rate? What were its predictable epidemiological consequences and its long-term demographic implications on a worldwide scale? PALAEOANTHROPOLOGICAL DATA FROM CEMETERIES AND THEIR DEMOGRAPHIC SIGNIFICANCE After exhaustive research in the literature, these data have been represented by a non-conventional demographic indicator, which is the proportion P of immature skeletons aged 5 to 19 years, d(5-19), relative to the total number of skeletons in a cemetery, d(5+), minus children aged under 5 years, which are known to be under-represented: 15P5 = d(5-19)/d(5+); the demographic notation 15P5 means the proportion of skeletons aged 5 years, to 5 years plus 15 years, i.e. 5 to 19 years. The criteria for the archaeological and anthropological selection of cemeteries and the corresponding enumerations and calculations are detailed in Bocquet-Appel (2002). The data represent 68 Meso-Neolithic cemeteries (Fig. 1). The dates (calibrated) of the cemeteries were either those given in the original publications, or the average dates of the cultures (or horizons) of these cemeteries. The demographic interpretation of 15P5 is obtained from a reference sample of 45 preindustrial life-tables, from which demographic parameters were regressed on simulated stable populations, called pa-laeodemographic estimators (Bocquet-Appel 2002; Bocquet-Appel and Masset 1996; Bocquet and Masset 1977). As an example, Figure 2 represents the relationship of 15P5, with the crude birth rate (b) and life expectancy at birth (e0). The relationship holds good with the input variable in the population represented by b, but becomes null with the output variable represented by e0. ARCHAEOLOGICAL DATA These are represented by approximately 700 enclosures in Central and Western Europe listed by Andersen (1997), to which a few units were added. Their significance as palaeodemographic markers is discussed in Bocquet-Appel and Dubouloz (2003). The Neolithic enclosures are interpreted as having a struc- 26 Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale Fig. 1. Geographical distribution of 68 Meso-Neolithic cemeteries (black points) and of694 enclosures (circles dotted lines) (from Bocquet-Appel and Dubouloz 2003). tural link with the processes underlying the organization of social space in prehistoric communities. A common general significance, which seems to include particular cases, is that each one, at its own level (from local to regional) can be seen, as a territorial marker that polarizes the geographical and social space through a "monumental" signal of supra-domestic value. A connection is therefore likely between demography and sites of this type. This connection is taken as reflecting a form of demographic pressure. To minimize documentary risks stemming from differences in national archaeological practices, the geographical space analyzed is roughly copied from that of the "Danubian Neolithic colonization". The selected sites thus relate to the regions which, to the north of the Alpine arc, stretch from Transda-nubia to the Atlantic and the Baltic (Fig. 1). An archaeological chronology, broadly dated by 14C measurements, was used. THE RELATIVE CHRONOLOGICAL REFERENCE FRAME OF THE CHANGE The distribution of data in space and time accumulates processes in the Meso-Neoli-thic transition which occurred at different times from locality to locality on the map, and this makes it difficult to bring out the phenomenon of a single demographic transition that transcends absolute chronology and proceeds at its own pace. Instead of an absolute chronology, the reference frame was changed, and the data positioned within a relative chro- nology. The reason for this change of reference frame is to concentrate archaeological information that is relatively scarce and scattered over space and time into the same reference frame provided by a relative chronology, in order to bring out an overall pattern underlying the data. Assuming that the Neolithic demographic transition was a demographic process in itself, occurring independently of the geographical location and absolute date of the sampled sites (cemeteries), as did the contemporary demographic transition, then geography can be eliminated from the space-time distribution of data, to preserve only the time distribution with reference to the local date when the process began, which is called the 'neolithisation front'. A profile common to all the data was thus obtained, with no influence from geography or absolute chronology. The chronological distance of a cemetery to the neo-lithisation front, both localized in X, is thus the duration dt separating the dating of the front, to(X), from that of the cemetery, t(X), that is to say: dt(X) = to(X) - t(X) = dt. When dt is negative, the site is chronologically located before the neolithisation front, i.e. in the Mesolithic (see Bocquet-Appel 2002). To help understand the nature of the change in the chronological reference frame, additional explana- Fig. 2. Relationship of 15P5, with the crude birth rate (b) and the life expectancy at birth (eq). The relationship is good with the input variable in the population represented by b but nil with the output variable represented by eq. 27 Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel and Jérôme Dubouloz tions are given here, based on an historical example. It should be remembered that the contemporary demographic transition, featuring a historical drop in mortality and then in fertility, is a process taking place on a worldwide scale, but at different dates, in a chronological window extending from the 18th to the 21st centuries. For example, this transition started at around 1841 in Privas (France), 1901 in Car-low (Ireland) and 1961 in Coimbatore (India) (Ba-labdaoui et al. 2001; Bocquet-Appel and Jakobi 1996; 1998). In order to compare regional demographic changes regardless of the chronological time lag, for example to assess their pace or their amplitude relatively to each other, all the profiles representing the temporal change should be placed within the same neutral reference frame of a relative chronology. Within this framework, the natural reference point is the date when the transition process began in each region (respectively 1841, 1901 and 1961), which is taken as time t = 0. A relative chronology common to the three regions can thus be established by simply subtracting their respective starting dates from each of the three absolute chronologies. The resulting chronology is in units of deviation from the start of the process. It is actually a time span, but with no reference to an absolute chronology. This unit of deviation, may be called dt. Figure 3 a shows the reduction in the average number of children, via the Total Fertility Rate (TFR) in the three regions of our example, through the relative chronology dt. The pace of the fertility transition is much faster in Coimbatore (India) than in Privas (France), although it occurred 120 years later. When the deviations, dt, are plotted on a graph, the range of chronological variation for the demogra- phic transition, considered as a global phenomenon occurring independently of time or place, becomes apparent (see Fig. 3b). The representation of the demographic change is quite correct, whereas it is wrong if it is represented in terms of absolute chronology (Fig. 3c). DATA ANALYSIS A trend emerging from cemeteries and detection of the signal of a demographic transition Figure 4 shows the 15P5 profile obtained at a chronological distance from the neolithisation front dt, from the total database (U = 6, x2 = 20.450 with 1 df, P < 0.000). A transition signal is detected. This profile shows the trend underlying the 15P5 in the relative chronology framework. It is estimated by a local fit in the 15P5 cloud, which is comparable to a moving average (also called a Loess fit; Bocquet-Appel 2002). The test for rejecting the null hypothesis of a flat profile, i.e. not showing the broken line typical of an abrupt change occurring in a transition, was performed with Mann-Whitney's non-parametric U test. This test constitutes the detection of the signal of a demographic transition. Finally, to estimate the values of the demographic variables, pa-laeodemographic estimators were applied directly to the values of the profile of the 15P5, not to the individual values for cemeteries. Although the profile (Fig. 4) is interesting, a bias from the over-representation of immature individuals in small cemeteries, probably of archaeological origin, was detected, forcing us to eliminate cemeteries where the sample 1800 1850 1900 Time 1950 2000 • Privas (France) ■ Carlow (UK) * Coimbatore (India) 150 1800 1850 C 1900 Time 1950 2000 Fig. 3. Fertility transition (TFR) in three regions. The onsets are respectively in 1830 (Privas, France), 1911 (Carlow, Ireland) and 1961 (Coimbatore, India). A) Each transition in absolute chronology; B) The average (loess fit) of the three transitions in relative chronology (dt); C) the average (loess fit) of the three transitions in absolute chronology. The pattern of the fertility transition is detected in relative (dt) but not in absolute chronology. 28 Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale Fig. 4. Profile proportion of immature 15P5 (P(5-19)) in the cemeteries (vertical axis) with the chronological distance to the neoli-thisation front (dt, horizontal axis). N = 68 Mesolithic and Neolithic sites. Note: dt = 0 is the starting chronological point of the neo-lithisation front, dt < 0 is in the Mesolithic, dt > 0 is in the Neolithic. Up to a constant, the profile represents the variation of the birth rate. It shows a continuous increase which begins around dt = -200years until dt = 1000years (from Bocquet-Appel 2002). size of skeletons was below 50 (Bocquet-Appel 2002). The new, reduced sample thus includes only 36 cemeteries (3 Mesolithic, 33 Neolithic). This narrows the chronological frame from dt = -1.500 to dt = 3.000. Figure 5 shows the variation in estimated crude birth rate, with at profile of 15P5 with dt, obtained from these 36 cemeteries. A signal of major demographic change, starting at the very beginning of the Neolithic (U = 26, x2 = 11.04 with 1df, P = 0.001), was thus detected. Our interest here is only in the zone on the neolithisation front. This is of particular interest as it provides information on the magnitude of the change at its onset. If we consider the maximum of the first bulge on the dt axis as representing the upper limit of the Neolithic demographic transition, at its onset, then the transition covers a relatively short time of approximately 500 years. On the profile, from dt = 0 to the maximum of the first bulge (dt = 500), the smoothed value corresponding to the proportion of immature individuals relative to d(5+), 15P5, rises from 16% to 27%, i.e. a 70%, increase, while the corresponding estimated value of the growth rate rises from -0.3% to 1.3% (±1.07%) (see Bocquet-Appel 2002). This very substantial change in the proportion of immature skeletons lasts almost throughout the entire Neolithic dt, relative to the Mesolithic. In short, the palaeoanthropological data from the cemeteries contain demographic information which, taken overall, reveal the pattern of a true Meso-Neolithic transition in Europe. With currently available data, a clear break from the previous stationary demographic regime of hunter-gatherers characterises this transition, over a relatively short time span of dt =500 years. The trend in the enclosure data Two approaches were used, the first based on absolute chronology, i.e. historical time, the second on relative, i.e. more local chronology, dt, in order to bring the results closer to those obtained with the palaeoanthropological data from cemeteries. Only the latter approach is described here (see Bocquet-Appel and Du-bouloz 2003). The profile of enclosure frequencies (count) along the chronological distance dt is represented in Figure 6 (black line). This shows a rapid increase in the size of the enclosure sites, as from dt = 300-600 years, culminating at dt = 600-900 years, then a slow decrease until dt = 1200-1500 years, followed by a clear decline. The data were then sorted against the criterion of whether they were included in the distribution area of the Linear Ceramics Culture (LBK). The profile for LBK regions (dotted line) shows a rapid response at dt = 300-900 years; a recrudescence in the number of enclosures occurs at dt = 1800-2400 years after the beginnings of the Neolithic, measured locally, mainly from eastern Germany to Bavaria. The profile for the periphery shows two peaks close together, separated by a threshold located at a high level: the first of these peaks (where dt = 300-600 years) relates to the areas of the northern periphery (Denmark, Great Britain), the intermediate threshold (where dt = 600-1200 years) points to the north of France and the second peak (where dt = 1200-1500 years) represents the west of France. The extreme western periphery thus indicates a long time-lag, which can even be considered to broaden downstream (enclosures at the end of the 4th and the beginning of the 29 Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel and Jérôme Dubouloz 3rd millennium in the west of France). This profile for peripheral enclosures (dotted line) thus suggests three different growth processes: a rapid response, as in the LBK regions in Denmark and England, a slow response in the west of France; and a moderate response in the north of France. The broad outline of the main profile (black line) and the fairly rapid "response" time after the "local" beginnings of the Neolithic that it suggests, correlate well with the demographic phenomenon deduced from the cemeteries (Figs. 4 and 5). This general distribution of territorial markers, in relative time, particularly in the LBK areas in Denmark and in England, suggests a rapid response from a strongly stimulated system, followed by its adaptation to the new situation. DISCUSSION AND CONCLUDING REMARKS In theory, what connects the variation of the two indicators (palaeoanthropological, representing the proportion of immature 15P5, and archaeological, representing the number of enclosures), is the growth of population with the establishment of an agro-pastoral way of life. Their two profiles should, therefore, be similar. Figures 5 and 6 show that this is indeed the case. The two indicators also converge in the es- Fig. 5. Variation of estimated crude birth rate on the profile of 15P5 with dt, obtained from the reduced sample of 36 cemeteries. The signal of an important demographic change is detected, which started at the onset of the Neolithic (U = 26.5, X2 = 11.04 with 1df P = 0.001). timation of the pace at which this first demographic transition in Europe, considered overall, emerged. The pace was fastest for the palaeoanthropological data (dt = 500) as for enclosure data (dt = 600-900). In other words, the demographic change that generated a noticeable growth in the population became established over a relatively short time span. This change is characterized by a clear break with the former stationary regime of Mesolithic hunter-gatherers (according to the palaeoanthropological data), over a time span of approximately 500-900 years, possibly less. The likely cause of the rising birth rate and underlying fertility rate is to be found in the shorter birth interval that ensued from the sedentarisation of farming communities (Bocquet-Appel 2002). But, as we know, any growing population will eventually reach the limits of its carrying capacity, triggering off the mechanisms of the Malthusian model (for a summary, see Wood 1998; Lee 1994). The probable scenario is therefore as follows: after a rise in the crude birth rate, a corresponding increase in the crude death rate is to be expected, i.e. a return to homeostatic equilibrium. For the NDT, the rise in mortality must have been caused by the emergence of new pathogens, mainly infectious diseases resulting from the zoonoses of domesticated animals (cattle, sheep, goats and pigs), as well as from the anastomosis of village units that facilitated their spreads (Bocquet-Appel 2002). Mortality, which has a major impact on population, primarily affects children under 5 years old. A history of infectious diseases and their phyletic relationship with pathogenic animals is yet to be written (see also Gubser and Smith 2002; McNeill 1993; McKeown 1988). However, candidates would include viral diseases (smallpox, measles, mumps, rubella, chicken pox and poliomyelitis) and bacterial diseases (whooping-cough, diphteria, meningitis and typhoid). We now need to seek genetic markers of these candidate diseases, in the pulp cavities of the teeth of child skeletons, following the method that was successfully used for plague (Dran-court et al. 1998). We need to attempt a dating for the initial appearance of these infectious diseases, at the end of the Mesolithic era and the beginning of the Neolithic (for example with the PPNA vs. PPNB locally), in 30 Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale Fig. 6. Profile of the number of enclosure at the chronological distance dt (black line). It shows a fast growth of the number of enclosures as of dt = 300-600 years, to culminate with dt = 600-900 years, then a slow decrease until dt = 1200-1500 years before a marked depression (from Bocquet-Appel and Dubouloz 2003). order to try to estimate the duration of the demographic expansion which preceded the return to homeostatic equilibrium. The consequences of the NDT were perhaps comparable with that of the natural demographic transition in 19th century Europe, in terms of rapid demographic expansion. A consequence of the contemporary demographic transition has been an explosive growth rate of about 3% over a hundred years. What followed was the continent-wide destruction of the hunter-gatherers and horticulturists of North America and Australia, resulting from a major demographic invasion by surplus populations of European peasants. But the order of the causal demographic variables and their directions were reversed: rising fertility followed by rising mortality during the NDT, as against falling mortality followed by a drop in fertility during the contemporary Western demographic transition. The detection of the NDT signal was conditioned by the space-time data available. The demographic pattern obtained is a kind of average of samples that centred in particular on the "Danubian" culture. The NDT we detected did not necessarily occur at the same pace everywhere on the map, especially around the periphery of Europe. A geographical differentiation of the process needs to be considered, depending on the local pace of neolithisation. More data, with a better distribution over time and space, should help to refine the regional picture of the NDT. Finally, the assumption can now be made that the NDT occurred in all the independent centres of agriculture invention on Earth, during the chronological window from 10 000 to 4000 BP. Its signal should therefore be detectable in cemetery data from the regions corresponding to these centres. As the geographical expansion of the agro-pastoral economic system, the vehicle for the new demographic regime, extended from these centres, the areas eventually connected to form a single area of relative demographic homogeneity, giving rise to the worldwide pre-industrial population regime, featuring a low growth rate Fig. 7. Projection of the two standardized profiles (z-scores, vertical axis), palaeoanthropological (cemeteries) and archaeological (enclosures) with the chronological distance to the neolithisation front (dt, horizontal axis). 31 Jean-Pierre P. Bocquet-Appel and Jérôme Dubouloz and high mortality and birth rates, also called the "high pressure system" (McCaa 2002). The relic demographic regime of the hunter-gatherers known to ethnography has remained at its margins. With the expansion of the contemporary demographic transition, this pre-industrial population regime, which dates back to the Neolithic, is now disappearing. REFERENCES ANDERSEN N. H. 1997. The sarup enclosures. Jutland Archaeological Society. Moesgaard, Aarhus University Press, Aarhus. BALABDAOUI F., BOCQUET-APPEL J. P., LAJAUNIE C. and IRUDAYAN RAJAN S. 2001. Space-time evolution of fertility transition in India (1961-91). International Journal of Population Geography7:129-148. BOCQUET-APPEL J. P. 2002. 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Populations stables, semi-stables et quasi-stables. Institut National d'Etudes Démographiques, Travaux et Documents Cahier No. 133, Paris. 32 CAVALLI-SFORZA L. L. 1997. Genetic and cultural diversity in Europe. Journal of Anthropological Research 53:383-404. DE SOUZA LEAL E., DE ANDRADE ZANOTTO P. M. 2000. Viral diseases and human evolution. Memorias do Instituto Oswaldo Cruz 95(1): 193-200. DRANCOURT M., ABDOUDHARAM G., SIGNOLI M., DUTOUR O., RAOULT D. 1998. Detection of 400 year old Yersinia pestis DNA in human dental pulp: an approach to the diagnosis of ancient septicaemia. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences USA 19: 12637-40. FORSTER P., TORRONI A., RENFREW C., ROHL A. 2001. Phylogenetic star contraction applied to Asian and Papuan mtDNA evolution. Molecular Biology and Evolution 18:1864-1881. GUBSER C. and SMITH G. L. 2002. The sequence of camelpox virus shows it is most closely related to variola virus, the cause of smallpox. Journal of General Virology 83(4): 855-872. LEE R. 1994. Human fertility and population equilibrium. In: Human reproductive ecology: interactions of environment, fertility, and behavior. In K. L. Campbell and James W. Wood (eds.), Annals of the New York Academy of Sciences 709:396-407. MCCAA R. 2002. Palaeodemography of the Americas. From ancient time to colonialism and beyond. The Backbone of history. In R. H. Steckel and J. C. Rose (eds), Cambridge University Press: Cambridge: 94-124. MCKEOWN T. 1988. The origin of human diseases. Blackwell Publishers Ltd, Oxford. MCNEILL W. H. 1993. Patterns of disease emergence in history. In S. S. Morse (ed.), Emerging viruses: 10-36. Expected palaeoanthropological and archaeological signal from a Neolithic demographic transition on a worldwide scale TORRONI A., BANDELT H.-J., MACAULAY V., RICHARDS M., CRUCIANI F., RENGO C., MARTINEZ-CABRERA V., VILLEMS R., KIVISILD T., METSPALU E., PARIK J., TOLK H.-V., TAMBETS K., FORSTER P., KARGER B., FRANCALACCI P., RUDAN P., JANICIJEVIC B., RICHARDS O., SAVONTAUS M.-L., HUOPONEN K., LAI-TINEN V., KOIVUMÄKI S., SYKES B., HICKEY E., NO-VELLETTO A., MORAL P., SELLITTO D., COPPA A., AL- ZAHERI N., SANTACHIARA-BENERECETTI A. S., SEMINO O. and SCOZZARI R. 2001. A signal, from human mtDNA, of postglacial recolonization in Europe. American Journal of Human Genetics, 69, 844-852. WOOD J. 1998. A Theroy of Preindustrial Population dynamics. Current Anthropology 39(1): 99-135. contents 33 UDK 903'12/'15(4/5)"633/634":575.17; 903'12/'15(4/5)"633/634":574.91 Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia Pavel Dolukhanov1 and Anvar Shukurov2 1 School of Historical Studies, University of Newcastle upon Tyne, UK Pavel.Dolukhanov@newcastle.ac.uk 2 School of Mathematics and Statistics, University of Newcastle upon Tyne, UK Anvar.Shukurov@newcastle.ac.uk ABSTRACT - Comprehensive lists of radiocarbon dates from key Early Neolithic sites in Central Europe belonging to the Linear Pottery Ceramic Culture (LBK) and early pottery-bearing cultures in the East European Plain were analysed with the use of the x2 test. The dates from the LBK sites form a statistically homogeneous set, with a probability distribution similar to a single-date Gaussian curve. This implies the rate of expansion of the LBK in Central Europe being in excess of 4 km/yr. Early pottery-bearing sites on the East European Plain exhibit a much broader probability distribution of dates, with a spatio-temporal trend directed from the south-east to the north-west. The rate of spread of pottery-making is in the order of 1 km/yr, i.e., comparable to the average expansion rate of the Neolithic in Western and Central Europe. IZVLEČEK - S testom x2 smo analizirali obsežen seznam radiokarbonskih datacij iz ključnih zgodnje-neolitskih najdišč srednje Evrope, ki pripadajo kulturi linearnotrakaste keramike (LTK), in iz najdišč z zgodnjo keramiko iz vzhodnoevropskih nižin. Datacije z najdišč LTK so statistično homogene z verjetnostno distribucijo, kije podobna Gaussovi krivulji. To kaže, da je bila stopnja ekspanzije LTK v srednji Evropi več kot 4 kilometre na leto. Najdišča z zgodnjo keramiko iz vzhodnoevropskih nižin kažejo veliko širšo verjetnostno distribucijo datacij, pri čemer je prostorsko-časovni trend usmerjen od jugovzhoda k severozahodu. Hitrost širjenja izdelovanja keramike je reda velikosti 1 kilometer na leto, se pravi da je primerljiv s povprečno stopnjo ekspanzije neolitika v zahodni in srednji Evropi. KEY WORDS - Neolithic; LBK; pottery-making; expansion rate; radiocarbon; statistical analysis INTRODUCTION Since Childe (Childe 1925) the concept of 'agricultural revolution' has been focused on the introduction of agriculture. Neolithisation was viewed as the spread of colonists bearing ceramic containers, domesticated plants and animals, new architecture, longdistance trade, burial rituals, and eventually overwhelming indigenous hunter-gatherers to the cultivation of domesticated cereals and rearing the animal stock (Price 2000). New criteria included sedentary settlements, social hierarchy and symbolic expressions (Tringham 2000). Yet to this day the shift to agro-pastoral farming is deemed to be the most important single signature of Neolithic (Zvelebil 1996.323). However, recent archaeobotanic studies (Hather and Mason 2002.4, 5) show that it is often impossible to draw a clear distinction between agriculture and hunter-gathering, as hunter-gatherers may undertake agricultural practices and vice versa. This evidence shows that wild plant species were extensively gathered in most areas in Neolithic Britain (Robinson 2000). The appearance of ceramic vessels at shell-midden sites in the coastal areas of Europe (the Algarve in Portugal, Erteb0lle in southern Scandinavia) apparently failed to modify subsistence based on marine shellfish resources and wild plants (Stiner et al. 2003; Andersen and Johansen 1987; Robinson and Harild 2002). On the other hand, 35 Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov pottery-making hunter-gatherers in the boreal forests of Eurasia display the attributes of complex societies, such as sedentism, high population density, intense food procurement, technological elaboration, development of exchange networks (that may include their agriculturalist neighbours), social differentiation, and territorial control (Zvelebil 1996. 331). It becomes increasingly clear that the distinction between agricultural and non-agricultural Neolithic is rather loose, and the dominant manifestations of the Neolithic are different in different parts of the world and even Europe (Seferiades 1993; Trigham 2000). Thomas {Thomas 1996; 2003) argues against the concept of a fixed and universal 'Neolithic package', and views the Neolithic as a range of various processes, generating considerable variability in subsidence practices. Similar views were popular amongst scholars in the former USSR, who identified 'Neolithic culture' with hunter-gathering communities manifesting a sedentary way of life, large-scale production, and the use of ceramic ware, polished stone and bone tools (Oshibkina 1996a). The mechanism of spread of the Neolithic in Europe remains a subject of debate. A model of Neolithisa-tion as a result of direct migration is omnipresent in the works of Childe (1958). More recently, this idea took the form of demic expansion or 'wave of advance' (Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1973). This model was further substantiated by genetic markers (Menozzi et al. 1978; Cavalli-Sforza et al. 1994), which have been interpreted as an indication of the diffusion of a farming population from Anatolia into Europe. Renfrew (Renfrew 1987; 1996) linked the dispersal of farming with the proliferation of Indo-European languages. There are several varieties of migrationist concept. These range from the direct colonisation of hitherto unpopulated areas or the annihilation of previous Mesolithic groups (Childe 1958; Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1973), to a model of elite dominance {Renfrew 1987). Zilhao (Zilhao 1993; 2001) views Neolithisation as 'leap-frogging colonisation' by small sea-faring groups along the Mediterranean coast. An alternative approach views the process as an adoption of agriculture by indigenous hunter-gatherers through the diffusion of cultural and economic novelties by means of intermarriage, assimilation, and borrowing (Whittle 1996; Tilley 1994; Thomas 1996). A unifying position advocated by Zvelebil (Zvelebil 1986; 1996) distinguishes three phases in the tran- sition to agriculture: availability, substitution, and colonisation, each operating in the broader context of an 'agricultural frontier' (see also Zvelebil and Lillie 2000). The 'individual frontier mobility' concept relates Neolithisation to 'small-scale' contacts between hunter-gatherers and farmers at the level of individuals and small groups linked by kinship. Several writers (Gronenborn 1999; Price et al. 2001) argue that Neolithisation involved small groups of immigrant farmers who came into contact with 'local forager-herder/horticulturalists'. The advent of radiocarbon dating has provided a new instrument for testing the various models of Neolithisation. The first series of radiocarbon measurements seemed to confirm the Childean concept of Ex Oriente lux, indicating that the 'Neolithic way of life penetrated Europe from the south-east spreading from Greece and the south Balkans...' (Clark 1965.67). Later publications based on comprehensive radiocarbon data for Neolithic sites suggested a more balanced view. Tringham (Tringham 1971. 216-7) discussed the spread of new techniques, and their adoption (or rejection) by local groups, resulting from an expansion of population. Dolukhanov and Timofeev (Dolukhanov and Timofeev 1972. 29-30) considered this process as a combination of diffusion and local inventions. A recent analysis of a large dataset of Neolithic radiocarbon measurements (Gkiasta et al. 2003) has basically confirmed the earlier results (Clark 1965; Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1973), showing a correlation of the earliest occurrence of the Neolithic with the distance from an assumed source in the Near East. The earlier Russian writers (Gorodtsov 1923) attached a significant importance to human migrations. The Soviet archaeology in the 1930-50s totally rejected these views, stressing the 'autochthonous development' of archaeological entities. Migrationist concepts were revitalised in more recent Russian studies (Klejn 2000). Over the past two decades, extensive series of radiocarbon dates were obtained for Mesolithic and Neolithic sites in broad areas of the former USSR (Timo-feev 2000). This evidence has considerably changed the hitherto held views on the chronology of Late Prehistory in the area, with the new dates of pottery-bearing sites on the East European Plain being significantly older than previously thought (Bryusov 1952). 36 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia The present article addresses these and related issues from the viewpoint of the radiocarbon chronology with the use of the novel methods discussed below. THE DATABASE This work is based on two major databases of radiocarbon dates recently developed for Neolithic sites in Europe. All dates for the former USSR (the Russian Federation, the Baltic States, Byelorussia, Ukraine, and Moldova) have been included in the database developed at the Institute for the History of Material Culture in St. Petersburg (Timofeev and Zaitseva 1996). The date list for LBK sites in Central Europe was compiled mainly from the Radon (Furholt et al. 2002). We have also included radiocarbon dates from sites in Austria and Germany (Lenneis et al. 1996; Stduble 1995). The latter dates appear to span relatively short time ranges and are relatively homogeneous archaeologically; we use them to estimate the typical empirical uncertainty of radiocarbon dates. In all cases, data referred to as 'dubious' were omitted. Since our aim is to assess the early stages of Neo-lithisation, only dates from the lowest strata of multi-stratified sites were included. All the data were calibrated using OxCal 3.2. STATISTICAL ANALYSIS In order to quantify the spread of Neolithisation, we tested the hypothesis that the dates in each individual subset (namely, the LBK in the West and the Neolithic sites in the East European Plain) are coeval. In other words, we verified whether or not the radiocarbon dates in a subset can represent a single date contaminated by Gaussian random noise. If the data are compatible with this hypothesis, one can conclude that the Neolithisation proceeded rapidly (in the sense of radiocarbon dating); if this is not the case, the spread of Neolithisation was gradual. Our analysis is based on the x2 test, and so requires a knowledge of the total errors of the date measurements, rather than just the instrumental ones that only characterize the accuracy of the radiocarbon age measurement in the laboratory (Dolukhanov et al. 2001). Therefore, we derive the lower limit of total uncertainty from statistically significant data sets belonging to archaeologically and culturally homoge- neous sites. For several sites, we have been able to isolate a date subset that can be considered coeval in the statistical sense. It is important to ensure that the dates in this set are also archaeologically homogeneous. The errors published together with radiocarbon dates, refer to the uncertainty of the laboratory measurement of the sample radioactivity alone, whereas the total uncertainty undoubtedly includes errors arising from archaeological context, from contamination by young and old radiocarbon, and from other effects (Aitken 1990). The relation of so-called instrumental errors to the total uncertainty of radiocarbon age estimates has been recently discussed (Dolukha-nov et al. 2001). In order to estimate the total uncertainty of the radiocarbon dates in a sample we use a statistically representative set of dates belonging to a single archaeological object whose lifetime is negligible in comparison with the other time scales involved. For the 20 calibrated dates from Brunn am Gebirge (Lenneis et al. 1996), the standard deviation is 99 years, which is useful to compare with the average published instrumental error of = 69 years (after calibration, with individual errors Ci ranging from 45 to 92 years). Rosenburg is another site for which a statistically significant set of data has been published (Lenneis et al. 1996). There are seven dates plausibly belonging to the same Phase I of LBK. The standard deviation of these dates is 127 years, which is significantly larger than their average published error and rather close to the standard deviation of the Brunn am Gebirge dates. The difference between the two error estimates, 100-130 years (the standard deviation in a coeval subsample) and 40-70 years (the mean instrumental error), is significant. Following our previous arguments (Dolukhanov et al. 2001), we accept 100 years as the lower limit for the total error of the LBK radiocarbon dates. This error is assumed to include several components, e.g., the instrumental uncertainty, the real life-span of an archaeological object, and various uncertainties arising from the archaeological context (inflow of old or young carbon, etc.). Of course, some archaeological objects can have smaller uncertainty (e.g., because of their shorter lifetime), but such cases have to be considered individually, and the corresponding uncertainty has to be estimated from independent evidence. 37 Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov An estimate of the total uncertainty S for each date in each sample considered below was chosen as the maximum of the published instrumental error ci, as obtained after calibration and the corresponding lower limit discussed above. The lower limits are 100 and 127 years for the LBK and East European data, respectively, except for the Rosenburg LBK site, where 127 years was adopted. The most probable common date T0 of the coeval subsample is obtained using the weighted least squares method, and the quality of the fit is assessed using the x2 test, i (ti - T0 )2 2 i _o - xn-1 i=1 12 where n is the number of measurements in the sub-sample, ti, i = 1, ..., n are the dates belonging to the subsample, and Si are their errors obtained as described above. If the x2 test is not satisfied, the dates deviating most strongly from the current value of T0 are discarded one by one until the test is satisfied. This procedure results in a 'coeval subsample'. The confidence interval A of To has been calculated as (see Dolukhanov et al. 2001 for details) where and A = c^ x2n-1 - X2 (To) - = 1 i— c ni=1 s2 X2 (To ) = i (i - To) i=1 i The results of our calculations are presented in the form T = To ± A; another important quantity is the standard deviation of the dates in the coeval sub-sample, Cc. The quantity To is the most probable age at which the cultural entity studied was at its peak. The confidence interval of To, denoted as A, characterizes the reliability of our knowledge (rather than the object itself). For example, small values of A can indicate that a slight improvement in the data can resolve a temporal heterogeneity in the subsample. The standard deviation in the coeval subsample, cc, is a measure of the duration of the cultural phenomenon considered. For example, it can be reasonably expected that the early signatures of the cultural entity under consideration appear by (2-3)Cc earlier than To, while the total lifetime of the entity is of the order (4-6)Cc (with a probability of 95-99.5%). In many cases, the significance of cc is similar to the total error of an individual radiocarbon date. Our results are based on statistically significant samples; the number of individual dates in a sample cannot be smaller than, say, 5-1o. Since a random element is present in any data, it is reasonable to expect that the spread of the data will grow with the size of the sample (even if the sample is drawn from statistically homogeneous data). The histogram of a coeval sample will fit a Gaussian shape. The Gaussian distribution admits data that deviate strongly from the mean value, and a pair of dates arbitrarily extracted from the widely separated wings of the Gaussian can be very different. The conclusion that they do belong to a coeval subsample can only be obtained from a simultaneous analysis of all the dates in the sample. LINEAR POTTERY FROM CENTRAL EUROPE The general LBK date list presented in Table 1 is taken from the Radon database, with the addition of dates obtained for several individual sites (Brunn am Gebirge, Rosenberg and others, for which numerous measurements were available). The final subset includes 47 measurements; 4o of them can be combined into a coeval subsample, with the most probable age of To = 5154 ± 62 BC, and the standard deviation Cc = 183 years. Both the general sample and its coeval part are further illustrated in Figure 1 in the form of date probability distributions. THE NEOLITHIC OF THE EAST EUROPEAN PLAIN This group consists of samples from the Neolithic sites of the East European Plain. These sites feature the large-scale production of pottery, but in most cases with limited or no evidence of either agriculture or stockbreeding. The sites are found in all parts of the East European Plain, and include the Lower Volga and the Lower Don areas, Ukraine, Moldova, Byelorussia, the Baltic States, Central and Northern Russia. They include several chronological stages and a considerable number of local 'archaeological cultures'. 38 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia Site Index Age bp Oi, yr Age BC s, yr Les Longrais Ly-150 5290 150 4100 167 Montbelliard Gif-5165 5320 120 4125 142 Chichery Gif-3354 5600 120 4450 150 Frankenau VRI-207 5660 100 4525 125 Horne Lefantovce Bln-304 5775 140 4700 200 Kaster KN-2130 5840 55 4700 100 Schwanfeld 14 4786 458 Guttenbrunn Bln-2227 5935 50 4830 100 Ulm-Eggingen 4831 261 Cuiry-les-Chaudardes 4841 321 Dresden-Nickern Bln-73/73A 5945 100 4850 133 Hallertau HAM-197 5990 90 4875 125 Menneville Ly-2322 6030 130 4900 225 Mold Bln-58 5990 160 4900 300 Chabarovice Bln-437 6070 200 4950 217 Kirschnaumen-Evendorff Ly-1181 6050 200 4975 263 Kecovo GrN-2435 6080 75 5000 100 Dachstein Ly-1295 6280 320 5050 350 Hienheim GrN-5870 6125 35 5065 100 Friedberg Bln-56 6120 100 5075 125 Niedermerz 3 KN-2286 6180 120 5075 188 Niedermerz 1 KN-I.594 6180 50 5100 100 Eilsleben OxA-1627 6190 90 5100 117 Langweiler 2 KN-I.885 6210 125 5100 133 Lautereck GrN-4750 6140 45 5100 200 Northeim-Imbshausen H-1573/1126 6192 140 5100 250 Müddersheim KN-I.6 6210 50 5110 100 Mohelnice MOC-70 6220 80 5125 163 Niemcza Bln-1319 6210 80 5125 163 Dnoboh-Hrada LJ-2040 6300 300 5150 317 Bylany Stage II a-c GrN-4754 6270 65 5190 100 Rosenburg 5187 138 Langweiler 9 KN-2697 6370 210 5200 233 Elsloo GrN-5733 6300 65 5215 100 Köln-Mengenich KN-I.369 6320 70 5220 100 Gerlingen KN-2295 6390 160 5225 158 Langweiler 1 KN-2301 6340 70 5245 100 Brunn 5252 99 Geleen GrN-995 6370 60 5260 100 Duderstadt H-919/889 6422 100 5300 100 Blicquy 5302 255 Lamersdorf KN-I.367 6410 45 5340 100 Langweiler 8 KN-2989 6540 155 5375 158 Eitzum Bln-51 6530 100 5400 100 Göttingen H-1534/1027 6530 180 5400 200 Schwanfeld 11 5467 514 Bylany Stage IV BM-569 6754 96 5625 108 X2(To) = 46.3 , X392(0.95) = 54.6 Tab. 1. Radiocarbon dates for the Linear Pottery (LBK) sites in Central Europe: the site name, laboratory index, the uncalibrated age and its instrumental error, the calibrated age and an estimate of its total error. Dates belonging to the coeval subsample are shown in bold face. 39 Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov Fig. 1. The rate of occurrence of radiocarbon dated sites for LBK sites in Central Europe, according to Table 1. The coeval subsample is shown shaded, the remaining dates, unshaded. In the case of the Serteya 2 Neolithic lake dwelling site in the Smolensk District (Dolukhanov and Mik-lyaev 1986; Miklyaev 1995) we have obtained a unique opportunity to assess the minimum statistical error of the radiocarbon age of Neolithic dwelling structures. The excavated area lies below the water level in the drainage canal and consists of rows of piles forming six distinct clusters. Each of these clusters allegedly formed a foundation for a platform on which a house was erected. The platform is well preserved in the case of Structure 1. Thus, the samples from each structure apparently belong to a single house constructed during a single season. Hence, the dates from each structure characterise a momentary event in the sense of radiocarbon dating. Botanical analysis shows that all the piles are made of spruce, which could not sustain prolonged stocking. Several samples were taken from different sets of annual rings in a single pile. We calculated the empirical error for four sets from Structures 1, 2, 3 and 6. In the case of Structure 1 all dates form a Gaussian-like distribution with one date obviously falling out. The mean age of the remaining dates is 2304 BC, with a standard deviation of 113 years. The corresponding values for the other structures are: 2372 ± 83 BC for Structure 2; 2295 ± 129 BC for Structure 3 (with one outlier), and 2219 ± 184 BC for Structure 6 (with one outlier). The average age of all four structures is 2298 ± 127 BC. The latter standard deviation, 127 years, is adopted as the minimum error in the statistical analysis of the dates for the entire East European Plain. stretching between the Lower Volga and the Ural Rivers. Small, presumably seasonal occupations are found close to water channels. Subsistence was based on hunting a wide range of animals (wild horse, aurochs, elk, brown bear, red deer, fallow deer, saiga antelope, marten, beaver), food collecting (tortoise, and edible molluscs, mostly Unio), and fishing. The remains of domestic animals (horse, cattle sheep and goat) were found at several sites, yet penetration from the later levels cannot be excluded. The stone inventory, which comes from mixed assemblages, includes single- and (rarely) double-platform cores, end scrapers (both from blades and flakes), burins, numerous axes, gouges and chisels (rarely polished), with the common occurrence of arrowheads made from blades, and tanged points. The archaic-looking pottery is made from silty clay tempered with organic matter, fish scales, and bone. The early vessels are small, with straight or S-shaped rims, flat or conic bottom. They are ornamented with imprints of pits, notches, incised and lines forming rows, rhombi, triangles, and zigzags. More complicated patterns appeared at later stages. The sample contains eight dates, five of which can be assumed to be coeval, since they group within a narrow age interval, with a mean age and standard deviation of To = 6910 ± 58 BC. The remaining dates are older (8025-7475 BC). Rakushechnyi Yar Yelshanian The sites of the Yelshanian Culture (Mamonov 2000) have been identified in a vast area of the steppe Rakushechnyi Yar is a clearly stratified Neolithic settlement located on a small island in the lower stretches of the River Don, ca 100 km upstream from the city of Rostov, which has 23 archaeological layers (Belanovskaya 1995). The deepest levels (23-6) belong to the Early Neolithic. The levels are 5-15 cm thick and separated by sterile sand or silt. The archaeological deposits, which are not identical in each layer, allegedly resulted from seasonal occupations. Fireplaces and the remains of surface dwelling structures occur in several levels. Animal remains consist of both wild (red deer, roe deer, fox, hare, 40 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia numerous birds) and domesticated species (sheep, goat, cattle, dog and horse - either wild or domestic). Numerous shells of edible molluscs (mostly Vi-viparus) indicate the importance of food gathering. The flint industry includes end scrapers made from blades and flakes, retouched blades, and borers. Arrowheads and geometrics (symmetrical trapezes) occur only in the upper levels. The pottery is often tempered with organic matter and includes both flat- and pointed-bottom varieties. Their ornamentation is usually restricted to the upper part of the vessel and consists of triangular notches forming horizontal rows, small pits, and incised lines. The developed character of the material culture and the apparent absence of Mesolithic elements imply that Ra-kushechnyi Yar is not the oldest Neolithic site in the area; its preceding stage remains to be found. Two Early Neolithic sites, Matveyev Kurgan 1 and 2, are located in the valley of the Miuss River, on the littoral of the Azov Sea (Krizhevskaya 1992). Site 1 includes the remains of a surface dwelling with hearths and post-holes, as well as an open, allegedly ritual fireplace. At Site 2, open fireplaces and large stone and clay inlays were found. The animal remains from both sites are dominated by wild species: aurochs, red deer, roe deer, beaver, wolf, wild boar, kulan, and wild ass (the latter two were more typical of the Mesolithic age). The domesticates, which formed 18-20% of the total assemblage, include horse, cattle, sheep/goat, pig, and dog. Both sites contain rich lithic industries, with no less than 600 cores (both single- and double-platformed); elongated broad blades and less numerous flakes dominate the assemblage. End scrapers, made from large flakes, and retouched blades, were found, with various blade tools. There are about 90 geometric microliths, mostly trapezes, both symmetric and asymmetric. Several 'bifacial' flint axes were reported, yet the number of slate polished axes is much larger. The diverse bone-and-antler industry found at the both sites includes spear- and arrowheads, awls and their fragments. Both sites yielded slate sinkers for fishing nets. Only a handful of pottery items were found at each site: 6 fragments at Site 1, and 21, at Site 2. The pottery fragments were unor-namented and manufactured from silty clay with no apparent artificial tempering. The sample contains 10 dates from the lower layers (the Early Neolithic), of which six dates satisfy the criterion for contemporaneity, yielding T0 = 5863 ± 130 BC, Cc = 247 years. The remaining dates include one younger date (5000 BC) and three older (6550-6850 BC). Bug-Dniestrian The Early Neolithic in the western Ukraine and Moldova is usually associated with the sites of the Bug-Dniestrian Culture (Danilenko 1969; Markevich 1974). About 40 sites belonging to this culture are located on the lower terraces of the River Dniestr (Ni-stru) and its tributaries, and on the River Pyvdenyi Buh, in their middle courses. Thin archaeological deposits are found in the matrix of silty loam, often in-terbedded with alluvial sediments. The remains of an oval-shaped semi-subterranean dwelling and a rectangular surface dwelling were identified at the So-roki 1 site on the Dniestr. At early sites, about 80% of animal remains belong to wild species, mostly roe deer and red deer. Among the domestic animals, pig, cattle and (on later sites) sheep/goat have been identified. The archaeological deposits contain huge amounts of Unio molluscs and tortoise shells. Roach (the most common), wells and pike were found among numerous fish bones. Birds such as sparrow hawk, honey buzzard and wood pigeon have been recorded. Remarkably, impressions of three varieties of wheat were found on the pottery: emmer, einkorn, and spelt. The flint industry was based on the prismatic core technique, with the common occurrence of retouched blades, backed blades, and small-size circular end scrapers. The numerous shapes include trapezes and triangles. Several blades at Soroki 1 show a sickle gloss. The Bug-Dniestrian sites include bone and antler implements: points, awls, mattocks, chisels, and 'hoe-like' tools. Polished stone axes, pestles, and querns were found at a number of sites. The pottery corpus for the early Bug-Dniestrian sites includes deep bowls, with an S-like profile, and hemispherical flat-bottomed beakers made of clay tempered with organic matter and crushed shells. Ornamental patterns consist of rows of shell-rim impressions, finger impressions, and incised lines forming zigzags and volutes. Remarkably, several patterns find direct analogies in the 'monochrome' pottery of the Balkan Early Neolithic (Starcevo-Cri§ Culture). Imported potsherds of Linear Pottery (with 'music-note' patterns) were found at several sites on the Pyvdenyi Buh River belonging to later stages of Bug-Dniestrian Culture. The sample contains a total of 7 date measurements from the sites on the Pyvdenyi Buh. All seven dates 41 Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov satisfy the statistical test for contemporaneity, with To = 6121 ± 143 BC, Cc = 101 years. Early Neolithic Cultures in Forested Central and Northern Russia The early Neolithic in the central part of the East European Plain exhibits several stylistic varieties of 'notch-and-comb decorated pottery', including the Upper Volga and Valdai cultures. The Upper Volga Culture consists of small-size sites usually found along the rivers of the Upper Volga basin, on lake shores, and in bogs and mires (Krainov 1996). The subsistence of Upper Volga groups was based on hunting (elk, red deer, roe deer aurochs, wild boar, and other wild forest animals), supplemented by fishing and food-collecting. The flint industry was based on blade blanks (rarely flakes); the occurrence of the 'Post-Sviderian' points indicates its genetic relationship to the Late Mesolithic (Butovian) tradition. The early types of pottery consist of small vessels (15-30 cm in diameter) that are either conical or flat bottomed, and made of chamotte-tempered clay. They are ornamented with impressions of notches, combs, cords and incised lines that form simple geometric motifs. Starting with the culture's middle stage, small round-bottomed cups appear, and mineral tempering becomes more frequent. Flat-bottomed vessels disappeared at a later stage. The temporal division of the Upper Volga Culture is based on the sequences of stratified bog and mire sites (Ivanovskoe 3, Sakhtysh 1, Yazykovo, etc.). In these sequences, the Upper Volga deposits are found beneath the strata of the Lya-lovo Culture that feature the pit-and-comb pottery. Previously, this culture was considered to be the oldest Neolithic entity in Central Russia. The sites of the Valdai Culture are located along water channels and lakes in the upper stretches of the Volga, Lovat, Western Dvina and Dniepr rivers, within the Valdai Hills in Central Russia (Guri-na 1996). This area is rich in outcrops of high-quality flint. The original flint industry includes circular end scrapers manufactured from elongated flakes, and large-size axes and chisels. It also includes Post-Swiderian points. The technology, forms, and ornamentation of the Valdai pottery are fairly similar to those of the early Upper Volga. The sites of Sperrings Culture (or the Style I:1 according to Finnish writers) are located on ancient sea and lake shore-lines in a vast territory encompassing southern and central Finland and Ladoga and the Onega Lake basins in Russian Karelia (Oshibkina 1996b). The pottery corpus consists of large conical vessels, with straight rims decorated with impressions of cord, incised lines, and pits forming a simple zoned ornament. The lithic industry manufactured from quartz, schist, and rarely, flint, (presumably imported from the Upper Volga) retains a Mesolithic character. Earlier age assessments based on the gradients of the shore-line displacements (Siiriainen 1970) have placed the I:1 Style in Finland into a time range of 4100-3000 BC. Several Neolithic in the extreme north-east of European Russia, on the Pechora and Northern Dvina Rivers form the Chernoborskaya Culture (Luzgin 1972; Vereshchagina 1989). The stone inventory of these sites has a Mesolithic character, while the pottery reflects Upper Volga and Valdai influences. The sample used here contains 55 radiocarbon date measurements. They include a series of dates from the stratified wetland sites of the Upper Volga Culture: Ivanovskoe 2, 2a, 3 and 7, Berendeevo 1 and 2a, and Yazykovo. The sample also includes dates Fig. 2. The rate of occurrence of Neolithic radiocarbon dated sites on the East European Plain (light grey) and the coeval subsample of the LBK dates, as in Fig. 1 (dark grey). 42 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia for the Valdai Culture sites, which several writers consider to be related to the Upper Volga. We also include several dates from the Sperrings sites (located in Karelia), as well as two dates from Cherno-borskaya-type sites in the Russian North-east. Thirty-two dates satisfy the statistical test for contemporaneity and yield To = 5417 ± 30 BC, Cc = 160 years. The remaining dates include those which are older (5800-6200 BC) and younger (4200-5200 BC) than the coeval sample. The Neolithic of the East European Plain: the total sample Our selection of Neolithic dates for the East European Plain as a whole contains 129 measurements presented in Table 1 and Figure 2. The data set exhibits a temporal structure with several broad maxima. One of them, at 5300-4900 BC, is remarkably close to the coeval LBK subsample discussed above, in both mean age and width. DISCUSSION According to Childe (Childe 1958.110), the LBK was 'made by ... farmers spreading from the southern cradle of cereals'. This view was corroborated with the use of the model of 'advance of advantageous gene', which asserted that early agriculture was brought to Europe by the descendants of Middle Eastern farmers who completely overran the indigenous Mesolithic population (Ammerman and Cavalli-Sfor-za 1973). An alternative hypothesis (well known to, but rejected by Childe) viewed Neolithization as the result of the adoption of farming by local hunter-gatherers (Wittle 1996). This has been substantiated by the finds of Late Mesolithic Danubian points found at LBK sites (Street et al. 2002). Another scenario has been suggested, where the spread of the LBK involved small groups of immigrant farmers who encountered 'local forager-herder-horticultura-lists' (Gronenborn 1999; Price et al. 2001). The latter view is strengthened by the discovery of a distinct 'La Hoguette' pottery at several LBK sites in its north-western area. It is represented by pots of clay tempered with crushed shells and bone that have a conical, round-bottomed shape and are decorated with garlands of comb-like impressions (Van Berg and Hauzeur 2001). At the site of Place Saint Lambert in Belgium, La Hoguette pottery has been found in a Late Mesolithic context, yet with predominantly domesticated animal remains (Van Berg and Hau-zeur 2001.70). Another cultural variety, the Limburg Group in the area of the Maas River, also supposedly belonged to a culturally distinct population. Being familiar with agriculture, this group coexisted, interacted and outlasted the LBK (Modderman 1964). The emergence of numerous radiocarbon dates has sufficiently modified the earlier chronological schemes for the LBK. It is argued (Price et al. 2001) that the 'initial' LBK appeared in Hungary at around 5700 BC and spread further west. Using 'traditional' radiocarbon dates, it has been suggested (Gronenborn 1999.156) that the earliest LBK sites appeared in Transdanubia at around 5700-5660 BC, and reached Franconia around 5500 BC. However, our analysis does not reveal any temporal structure in the entire sample of LBK dates for Central Europe. Forty out of 47 LBK dates in our sample satisfy the criterion of contemporaneity, forming a Gaussian distribution spread from 5600-4800 BC (2a range), with the most probable age of 5154 ± 62 BC. Our analysis indicates that the LBK propagated as a singlephase process that cannot be subdivided into distinct events (using radiocarbon dating alone); this is the reason most of the LBK sample can be characterized in terms of a single date (corresponding to the culture peak) with a relatively small error. In this sense, the spread of the LBK culture across the loes-sic plateaux of Central Europe had the character of a single event. Our results do not rule out the possibility that local Mesolithic groups participated in the process. The resulting lower estimate of the rate of spread can be obtained from the width of the above probability distribution. With the largest dimension of the LBK region of about 1500 km (from Transdanubia to Franconia) and the time taken to spread over that area of about 360 years (twice the standard deviation of the dates in the coeval LBK sub-sample), the lower limit for the propagation rate of the LBK is obtained as about 4 km/yr. This value is consistent with the earlier estimates of about 6 km/yr (Ammerman and Cavalli-Sforza 1973; Gikasta et al. 2003) for a significantly larger region. The LBK propagation rate is in striking contrast to other European Neolithic spread rates of 1 km/s. The probability distribution of radiocarbon dates for individual Neolithic entities on the East European Plain reveals a different spatio-temporal structure 43 Pavel Dolukhanov and Anvar Shukurov Fig. 3. The rate of occurrence of radiocarbon dates for distinct cultural entities on East European Plain. extended over a long time interval. Our statistical age estimates for key cultural entities indicate that they form a clear temporal sequence from Yelsha-nian (6910 ± 58 BC), through Bug-Dniestrian (6121 ± 101 BC) and Rakushechnyi Yar (5846 ± 128 BC), to the Upper Volga and other 'Forest Neolithic' cultures (5317 ± 30 BC) (Fig. 4). The rate of spread of the pottery bearing cultures in East European Plain, estimated from the extent of the region involved (ca 2500 km for the distance from Yelshanian via Bug-Dniestrian to Upper Volga) and the time of spread (ca 1600 years, the time lag between the Yelshanian and Upper Volga cultures as estimated above), is about 1.6 km/yr. This is significantly smaller than the rate of spread of the LBK and yet comparable to other European Neolithic rates. This fact stresses again the unusual nature of the LBK. On the other hand, the comparable magnitudes of the rates of spread of farming in Western Europe and ceramics production in Eastern Europe are compatible with - although do not prove - their common Neolithic nature. Our results reveal a clear spatiotemporal trend indicating that the Yelshanian-Rakushechnyi Yar temporal sequence (perhaps including the earlier Bug-Dniestrian) exhibits systematic propagation from the east, and so can be a manifestation of an impulse emanating from the Eastern steppe area. Recent evidence shows a very early appearance of pottery making in an area further east, stretching along the southern edge of the boreal forest in Eurasia (Van Berg and Cauwe 2000). This includes Jomon Culture in Japan, with the earliest 'incipient' stage at ca 11 000 BC (Aitkens and Higuchi 1982). An early centre of pottery making of an even earlier age (13200-12 900 BP) has been identified in the lower stretches of the Amur River (Derevyanko and Medvedev 1997; Kuzmin and Or-lova 2000). A group of early pottery sites in the Trans-Baikal province in southern Siberia (Ust-Ka-renga, Ust-Kyakhta and Studenoye) has yielded a similar age (Kuzmin and Orlova 2000). At these sites, subsistence was based on hunting-gathering and the intense procurement of aquatic resources. These pottery assemblages are stylistically unrelated and are believed to be local inventions (Khlobystin 1996). One may only speculate that pottery making developed independently in the context of broad-spectrum hunter-gathering economies with reliance on aquatic resources. This technical novelty initially emerged in the forest-steppe belt of northern Eurasia Fig. 4. Early Neolithic cultures in central and eastern Europe: Linear Pottery Culture (LBK); Yelshanian (1); Rakushechnyi Yar (2); Bug-Dni-estrian (3); Upper Volga (4); Valdai (5); Sperrings (6); Narva (7); Chernoborskaya (8); Serteya (9); and Zedmar (10). 44 Modelling the Neolithic dispersal in northern Eurasia starting at 11000-10 000 BC, and spread to the west to reach the south-eastern confines of the East European Plain by 7000-6000 BC. The group of dates at 5300-4900 BC apparent in Figure 2, largely belongs to the Upper Volga and other early pottery-bearing cultures in boreal central and northern Russia. This is also the epoch of the LBK in Europe. Significantly, this period corresponds to the Holocene climatic optimum, characterized by a maximum rise in temperature and biological productivity in the landscapes of both Central and Eastern Europe (Peterson 1993). A currently advanced model (Aoki et al. 1996) can be relevant in explaining these phenomena. These writers model the advance of expanding farmers accompanied by the partial conversion of the indigenous population into farming. The intruding farmers can spread either as a wave front or as an isolated, solitary wave. However, either intruding or converted farmers remain behind the propagating wave (front) in both cases. 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Price (ed.), Europe's First Farmers: 57-92. contents 47 UDK 903'12/'15(4)"633/634' Documenta Praehistorica XXXI The nature of early farming in Central and South-east Europe Amy Bogaard Department of Archaeology, University of Nottingham, UK Amy.Bogaard@nottingham.ac.uk ABSTRACT - This paper summarises models of crop and animal husbandry in Neolithic Europe and reviews the relevant evidence from three regions: the western loess belt and Alpine Foreland; the Great Hungarian Plain; and the southern Balkans and Greece. Intensive mixed farming (small-scale, labour-intensive cultivation integrated with small-scale herding) emerges as the most plausible model across these regions. Such continuity is in some ways counter-intuitive given climatic variability across Europe and archaeological diversity in settlement and house forms etc. It is argued that variability in the form of Neolithic settlements (nucleated versus dispersed, 'tell' versus 'flat' sites) should be understood not as a reflection of radically different farming practices but rather as different social permutations of the same basic farming and herding pattern. IZVLEČEK - V članku povzemamo modele za poljedelstvo in živinorejo v neolitski Evropi in pregledamo ustrezne podatke s treh področij: zahodni aluvialni pas v alpskem predgorju; Panonska nižina; južni Balkan in Grčija. Intenzivno mešano kmetovanje (v malem obsegu, obdelovanje zemlje z intenzivnim ročnim delom, manjše črede) se kaže kot najverjetnejši model po vseh treh območjih. Takšna enotnost je na nek način nenavadna glede na različne klimatske razmere po Evropi, arheološko različnost naselbin in oblik hiš itd. Menimo, da raznolikost oblik neolitskih naselbin (jedrne proti razpršenim, 'tell'proti 'ravnim' najdiščem) ne kaže na zelo različne načine kmetovanja, ampak bi jo morali razumeti kot različne družbene permutacije istega temeljnega vzorca kmetovanja. KEY WORDS - Central Europe; South-east Europe; crop husbandry; animal husbandry INTRODUCTION "Students of civilization have often credited the development of intensive agriculture to revolutionary inventions such as metal tools, the plow, and domesticated draft animals... or to particular environments which challenged the creative powers of the inhabitants ... Comparative evidence now suggests that a great many peoples practice intensive cultivation with rudimentary tools, and that the necessary knowledge need not be diffused from a few centers of cultural innovation but may be developed to meet localized needs." (Netting 1971.21) This statement illustrates several points that form a useful introduction to this paper. First, it shows that the central argument made here - early farming in central and south-east Europe was intensive - builds on a long-standing criticism of technology-driven evolutionary models of agricultural development. A more subtle evolutionary framework was proposed by Boserup (1965), who identified demographic pressure rather than technological innovation per se as the cause of intensification. According to this view, early forms of agriculture were extensive, involving long fallow periods and low energy inputs per unit area, and only became more intensive as a result of technological change fuelled by population pressure. Boserup (1965) ignored the beneficial effects of 'rudimentary' measures such as manuring, middening, careful hand tillage and weeding on crop yields (Grigg 1979). Following Kruk (1973), Sherratt 49 Amy Bogaard (1980) rejected the notion of a 'primeval' phase of shifting cultivation in Neolithic Europe but preserved the idea of low inputs per unit area by arguing that early 'horticulture' was confined to naturally fertile floodplain plots, recharged by spring flooding and requiring minimal soil preparation. This paper, however, will present evidence of labour-intensive cultivation, characterised by close integration of crop and livestock husbandry. Second, Netting's statement raises the question of local (re-)invention of intensive farming methods. Given that the technology required is minimal, to argue that intensive agriculture represents the 'norm' across much of Neolithic Europe is not to deny the potentially diverse origins of Neolithic communities (cf. Zvelebil 2000), or to insist on a single 'centre of cultural innovation'. Rather, the intention here is, by demonstrating the intensive nature of early farming, to focus attention on the daily, seasonal and annual exigencies of farming in the Neolithic. A third issue raised by Netting's comments is what constitutes 'intensification' of farming. This term is often used to refer to the application of farming technologies such as ard-tillage and ox-traction, but in fact these methods are associated with an extensifi-cation of agriculture: as the scale of cultivation expands due to the greater efficiency of the ox-drawn ard and metal harvesting tools, so inputs of labour per unit area are reduced (Halstead 1992). MODELS OF NEOLITHIC FARMING IN EUROPE A range of crop and animal husbandry models has emerged for various parts of Europe in the Neolithic. Table 1 presents a simplified summary of these models. Animal husbandry can broadly be characterised as intensive or extensive. Extensive animal husbandry refers to large-scale herding and consequently the need to move herds over considerable distances in order to find adequate grazing (Halstead 1987; 1996a; 1996b; 2000; Russell 1988.15-16). This form of animal husbandry is associated with a lack of manuring since animals are often herded well away from arable land. Crop husbandry regimes compatible with extensive herding, therefore, would involve little or no manure input per unit area. Such extensive crop husbandry regimes are: shifting cultivation, in which crops are grown over a few seasons on newly cleared forest soil fertilised by ash; extensive ard cultivation, in which crops are grown on a large-scale with the help of the ox-drawn ard; and floodplain cultivation, which exploits fertile crop growing conditions created by seasonal flooding of alluvium and the downward movement of water and nutrients from surrounding slopes. As indicated in Table 1, there are various ways in which these forms of low intensity cultivation may relate to animal husbandry. The closest integration is seen in the use and management of oxen maintained to pull the ard plough - such animals are kept close to the settlement, are stalled through the winter and supplied with fodder. The manure from stalled oxen may be spread on to arable fields, but the large scale of ard cultivation is such that manuring inputs and crop yields per unit area remain low. The chronic shortage of manure in this sort of system is evident from the scale of cultivation as it compares with the manure produced by traction animals. Ethnographic evidence suggests that a pair of oxen can cultivate c. 5-10 ha or more per year (Halstead 1995; Forbes 2000), while each animal produces about 12 tons of manure per year (Rowley-Conwy 1981). Given that intensive manuring may require something like c. 30-100 tons of manure per hectare (cf. Alcock et al. 1994; P. Halstead field notes from Asturias, Spain), it is evident that a pair of oxen cannot provide enough manure to treat the area cultivated intensively. By contrast, intensive garden cultivation represents a form of farming that is closely tied to similarly small-scale and intensive livestock management (Halstead 1987; 1996a; 1996b; 2000; cf. Russell 1988.15) (Tab. 1). The nature of this interdependence between crops and livestock is summarised Crop husbandry models Animal husbandry models Integration of crops and animals Shifting cultivation Extensive herding Regenerating plots may be used as pasture Extensive ard cultivation Cattle traction to pull carts and the ard plough Floodplain cultivation The floodplain also offers seasonal pasture Intensive garden cultivation Intensive herding Complex interdependence (see Table 2) Tab. 1. Simplified summary of crop and animal husbandry models, showing relationships between crops and animals. 50 The nature of early farming in Central and South-east Europe Animal contribution to crop husbandry Crop contribution to animal husbandry Manure to fertilise the soil, provided by animals grazing crops/stubble or by spreading of collected manure Crop by-products and products (spoiled or surplus) used as fodder Grazing of unripe crops to prevent lodging and promote tillering Cultivation plots, which may be surrounded by hedges or fencing, provide grazing Tab. 2. Interdependence between crop and animal husbandry in intensive mixed farming. in Table 2. Movements of herds around settlements are relatively small-scale, resulting in a conservation of manure for use on arable plots. Particularly over the winter, animals kept close to the settlement require shelter and fodder, which may include surplus or spoiled crops and crop by-products as well as leafy hay/branch fodder. With careful management, a household herd consisting of a few cattle, sheep/ goats and pigs (cf. Suter and Schibler 1996) would produce enough manure to maintain high fertility levels in small-scale cultivation (e.g. 1-2 ha per household). Animal manure may be applied directly, by spreading of collected manure from penned areas or stalls, or indirectly, by allowing animals to graze stubble. Historical and ethnographic evidence (Tus-ser 1984.105; Forbes 1995; 1998; Burns 2003; P. Halstead, field notes from Asturias and Greece) also attests to the use of sheep and goats to graze unripe cereals at a vegetative stage of growth in order to promote tillering (the production of multiple stems per plant), resulting in relatively short, dense crop plants that are less prone to lodging (falling over). Otherwise, high fertility encourages the growth of tall plants and hence may increase the danger of lodging, though other factors (weed infestation, weather, straw-length of cereal variety) also contribute. In small-scale intensive management, animals are generally kept for their meat and perhaps also for milk and wool/hair, though the culling pattern is not geared towards intensive dairying or wool/hair production (Halstead 1981; 1996a; 1996b; 2000). This 'multi-purpose' exploitation of livestock may extend to include use of unspecialised traction animals, such as cows (e.g. those that do not produce much milk), which can be used to reduce human labour expended on tillage but do not greatly increase the scale of cultivation (Halstead 1995; Bogaard 2004). Anthropologists and archaeologists have for some time recognised the adaptive advantages of intensive cultivation for farming families as well as the social significance of this form of husbandry, for example in the emergence of permanent social inequalities (Netting 1971; 1990; Halstead 1989b). Halstead's work on Neolithic Greece (1981; 1996a; 1996b; 2000) has focussed on archaeozoological and environmental evidence to build a case for intensive herding and cultivation. More recently, analyses of archaeobotanical assemblages from Neolithic sites in the western loess belt and Alpine Foreland (Bogaard 2004) and the Great Hungarian Plain (Bogaard et al. in press a, b) have made use of new ecological techniques (e.g. Charles et al. 2002) for the inference of crop growing conditions from arable weeds associated with crop remains. These studies suggest that intensive garden cultivation combined with intensive herding represent the 'norm' across central and south-east Europe during the Neolithic. Such general continuity in farming methods may appear surprising given the considerable differences in climate from the south-east to north-west, i.e. from the Mediterranean pattern of wet, frost-free winters and hot, dry summers, through the frosty winters and hot summers of central Europe to the cooler, wetter summers of the north-west. On the other hand, the 'buffered' and artificial character of intensive crop growing conditions would facilitate continuity in this form of husbandry (Bogaard 2004). The following sections briefly review the evidence for intensive mixed farming in three adjacent regions of central and south-east Europe - the western loess belt and the Alpine Foreland; the Great Hungarian Plain; and the southern Balkans and Greece (Fig. 1). These regions will be dealt with in this order - the reverse of a chronological arrangement according to the timing of the agricultural transition -because the author's own research (Bogaard 2004) has mostly concentrated on the first region to be discussed. Western loess belt and Alpine foreland Bogaard (2004) carried out a series of ecological comparisons between modern weed floras from known crop husbandry regimes and archaeobotani-cal samples of arable weeds associated with charred crop material from Neolithic sites (c. 5500-2200 BC) 51 Amy Bogaard in the western loess belt (mostly Germany) and the Alpine Foreland. The results indicate that cultivation plots tended to be permanent - that is, used for an extended period of time such as decades or even centuries, thus ruling out shifting cultivation (see also Bogaard 2002). Furthermore, the major cereal crops (mostly einkorn and emmer) were autumn-sown, with the implication that, even where it was topographically feasible, cultivation did not tend to take place within the spring flood zone of rivers and streams. Growing conditions of high soil disturbance and fertility appear to have been maintained with high inputs of labour, including manuring/middening, tillage and weeding. Fig. 1. Map showing the regions and sites mentioned in the text. Cattle were the dominant livestock in these areas. There is as yet little published evidence for the mortality profiles of LBK cattle assemblages, though indications are that cattle were mostly killed as juveniles, and hence that meat production was emphasised (Arbogast 1994.93; Benecke 1994a.95; 1994b.122-3). Domesticated cattle and pigs appear to have been distinctly smaller than their wild counterparts throughout the earlier Neolithic (Benecke 1994a.48-55; Döhle 1997; Lüning 2000.105), implying a lack of regular cross-breeding between wild and domesticated populations and hence that herding was relatively small-scale and intensive. The only available demographic evidence for intensive dairying comes from the later Neolithic in the Alpine Foreland, where the scale of stock husbandry would be restricted by the lack of permanent pasture and the need to provide winter fodder (Higham 1967; Becker 1981; Jacomet and Schibler 1985; Halstead 1989a; Gross et al. 1990; Hüster-Plogmann and Schibler 1997; Hüster-Plogmann et al. 1999). Though livestock may have played a critical economic role as an 'insurance bank' against crop failure, particularly in regions of harsh climate, the evidence points to small-scale intensive mixed farming rather than to large-scale, extensive cattle pastoralism alongside shifting, extensive ard or floodplain cultivation. Archaeobotanical analyses of waterlogged animal dung are available from several Neolithic lakeshore settlements of the Alpine Foreland, such as Egolzwil 3 (Rasmussen 1993), Horgen-Scheller (Akeret and Jacomet 1997), Arbon-Bleiche 3 (Akeret et al. 1999) and Weier (Robinson and Rasmussen 1989). These analyses have revealed a variety of feeding practices, including twig or branch foddering (prior to leaf emergence) and consumption of crop material. Mostly these analyses concern sheep/goat pellets, though cattle foddering, as well as the spreading of manure across an arable plot adjacent to the settlement, have been documented at Weier (Robinson and Rasmussen 1989). A link between dung and winter sheep/ goat feeding at Arbon Bleiche 3 has been used to argue that herds were moved away from settlements in the summer as part of a transhumant cycle (Akeret et al. 1999), though an absence of dung containing summer vegetation could simply reflect the fact that animals were not kept in the settlement during this season of abundant grazing. There is possible evidence for the use of cows as traction animals as early as the LBK (Döhle 1997), a practice that would not alter the scale of cultivation significantly (above). The best evidence for the use of oxen as traction animals dates to the end of the Neolithic sequence in the Alpine Foreland, in the Corded Ware phase (Hüster-Plogmann and Schibler 1997; Schibler and Jacomet 1999). Though there may have been a trend towards somewhat more extensive cultivation in some areas during the later Neolithic (Schibler and Jacomet 1999), the archaeobota-nical samples available from later Neolithhic sites in the loess belt and Alpine Foreland appear to reflect in- 52 The nature of early farming in Central and South-east Europe tensively maintained growing conditions and hence a restricted scale of cultivation (Bogaard 2004). Neolithic cultivation in the western loess belt and Alpine Foreland, therefore, can be characterised as small-scale, intensive and integrated with intensive livestock husbandry, but within these parameters there is emerging archaeobotanical evidence for variability between regions and sites and also within the archaeobotanical record of a single site. Regional cohesion in crop growing conditions is evident, for example, amongst LBK sites of the Lower Rhine-Meuse Basin and may reflect the existence of localised crop husbandry traditions (Bogaard 2004). The best example of intra-site variability in growing conditions is the LBK site of Vaihingen/Enz in the Neckar valley (Bogaard 2004), where a relatively large set of archaeobotanical samples rich in potential arable weeds suggests a continuum from relatively high to relatively low intensity cultivation. Nucleation and enclosure of longhouses at this settlement (Krause 2000) may have exaggerated the inevitable 'fall off in cultivation intensity with increasing distance from home (cf. Jones et al. 1999). Great Hungarian plain There is increasing evidence that, contrary to earlier statements based on small samples (e.g. Kosse 1979), the faunal assemblages of early Neolithic sites of the Koros culture (c. 6000-5500 BC) in southeast Hungary are dominated by domesticated livestock, especially sheep/goat, with a relatively minor component of wild fauna (Bartosiewicz in press). Furthermore, demographic data on sheep/goat culling patterns from the Koros site of Endrod 119 (Bo-konyi 1992) and from the recently excavated Koros site of Ecsegfalva 23 (Bartosiewiczpers comm.; in press; Pike-Tay in press) point towards generalised/ meat-oriented management rather than intensive dairying or wool production. The detection of dairy fat residues on potsherds from Ecsegfalva (Craig et al. in press) is consistent with a generalised herding strategy in which livestock were exploited for a range of products. Archaeobotanical data from sites of this early Neolithic phase in the Hungarian Plain are scarce, but ecological analysis of the potential arable weed assemblage from Ecsegfalva 23 by Bogaard et al. (in press a; b) points towards intensive cultivation. Moreover, the topography of the area suggests that high dry ground in the vicinity was far more than sufficient to accommodate small-scale cultivation (Bogaard et al. in press a; b). Microwear analysis of sheep/goat mandibles from Ecsegfalva 23 by Mainland (in press) points towards high soil ingestion and over-grazing in penned areas, while Mac-Phail (in press) has detected soil micromorphologi-cal evidence for 'stalling refuse' at the site, again consistent with small-scale and intensive herd management integrated with arable farming. Clearly, more interdisciplinary investigations such as those focussed on Ecsegfalva 23 are required in order to broaden this picture of early Neolithic crop and animal husbandry, but initial indications are that intensive mixed farming can be traced from the LBK back to the earlier Neolithic of the Hungarian plain. Southern Balkans and Greece Halstead (1981; 1996a; 1996b; 2000) has drawn together evidence for intensive mixed farming in Neolithic Greece (seventh-fourth millennium bC). Arguments include a lack of evidence for wide-scale woodland clearance in the pollen record or for ox-traction in faunal assemblages, the predominance of sheep (a species associated with open vegetation), mortality evidence that sheep were exploited for meat and a decrease in the size of domestic pig and cattle through the Neolithic (consistent with a lack of interbreeding with wild relatives). Moreover, Hal-stead (1981; 1996a; 1996b; 2000) estimates that Greek tell villages would require implausibly large herds to be supported primarily by livestock and concludes that cereals and pulses provided the bulk of the diet, though livestock offered a vital alternative source of food in times of crop failure. Until recently there has been little archaeobotani-cal evidence for Neolithic arable weed floras in the southern Balkans or Greece, though Halstead (1981; 1996a; 1996b; 2000) has emphasised the diversity and prevalence of labour-intensive pulse crops. The work of Marinova (2001), therefore, on weeds associated with charred crop remains (including crop stores) at several Neolithic tell sites in southern Bulgaria is particularly critical. Floristically, these weed assemblages overlap considerably with those of central Europe and hence appear to be consistent with intensive cultivation (though this remains to be demonstrated by statistical and ecological analysis of the particular combinations of weed species occurring on a sample by sample basis). Recent studies of Late Neolithic-Early Bronze Age archaeobotanical assemblages in northern Greece (Valamoti and Jones 2003; Valamoti 2004) shed important new light on 53 Amy Bogaard the use of livestock dung as fuel - implying that herds were kept near the settlement - as well as on animal feeding practices, including grazing of weeds in stubble/fallow fields and possible feeding of crop material to livestock. Ongoing archaeobotanical work by the author further north, in the Teleorman valley of south-central Romania (Bogaard 2001, unpublished), has so far produced small assemblages of potential arable weeds from 'flat' sites of the Cri§, Dude§ti and Boian cultures (sixth-early fifth millennium BC). The limited evidence recovered so far would again appear to reflect intensive, small-scale cultivation given the occurrence of annual weed species common on Neolithic sites in central Europe, such as Fat Hen (Cheno-podium album), Black Night-shade (Solanum nigrum) and Black Bindweed (Fallopia convolvulus). A recently found cache of Chenopodium album seeds at Sultana-Malu Ro§u (Bogaard and Stavrescu-Bedivan unpublished), a Gumelnita culture (later 5th millennium BC) tell site in southern Romania, echoes occasional similar finds at LBK and later sites in central Europe (Helbaek 1960; Knorzer 1967; Kroll 1990; Bakels 1991; Brombacher and Jacomet 1997; Luning 2000.92). Given the suitability of Fat Hen as a separately collected wild plant food (Stokes and Rowley-Conwy 2002), such finds urge caution in the uncritical use of this species as an indicator of intensive cultivation (see also Bogaard 2004). At the same time, it is possible that intensive cultivation in arable plots played a dual role for both successful cereal/pulse husbandry and the encouragement of alternative food sources such as Fat Hen. DISCUSSION Given the obvious relevance of routine practice for apprehending culture as lived experience (e.g. Whittle 2003.22-49), the nature of early farming practices in Neolithic Europe is of fundamental importance if we wish to understand the societies that emerged from the agricultural transition. The practice of small-scale, intensive farming in south-east and central Europe reflects a similar series of constraints and possibilities for the development of Neolithic communities in these areas. In addition to constraints on mobility for at least part of the community, for example, intensive mixed farming would encourage the development of household claims to fixed plots of land (Bogaard 2004). Against this backdrop of similar constraints and potentialities, however, Neolithic communities in south- east and central Europe clearly took on a range of forms in terms of settlements and houses, distribution, longevity etc. Kotsakis (1999) has recently considered the different implications of Neolithic 'tell' settlements versus 'flat' sites in northern Greece, concluding that the more dispersed form of flat sites would allow more labour-intensive cultivation of plots interspersed between houses than would be feasible beyond the edges of nucleated tells. While new studies such as that of Valamoti (2004) will clarify this contrast in Greece, there is evidence that differential nucleation of longhouses among LBK settlements in central Europe was associated with different degrees of variability in cultivation intensity (above, Bogaard 2004). The implication is that different degrees of nucleation could amplify the potential for emerging differences in productivity between households, unless mechanisms were in place to ensure an even distribution of cultivation plots at varying distances from home (cf. Forbes 1982.353; 2000). Thus, the marked 'separation between household and productive space' (Kotsakis 1999.73) evident in nucleated settlements such as tells would have the effect of creating an extended continuum of cultivation intensity and hence more scope for differences in productivity between households than in more dispersed settlements. Moreover, a greater continuum of cultivation intensity surrounding nucleated settlements could accelerate inter-household competition, promoting tell formation in areas with a tradition of mud-brick architecture and superimposed rebuilding (Halstead 1999). In this perspective, it is misleading to invoke radical differences in crop husbandry between tells and flat sites, such as a shift from manual horticulture to ard-based agriculture (cf. Chapman 1990). As Kotsakis (1999) suggests, the fundamental difference lies not in tillage method but in social attitudes to household versus productive space and continuity in the use of household space through time. It has been argued elsewhere (Bogaard 2004; Bogaard et al. in press b) that long-lived, intensively cultivated plots would themselves be the object of descent-based claims. Perhaps the contrast between tells and flat sites reflects a difference in emphasis between claims on household space, on the one hand, and productive space, on the other: in tells, the identity of the household is linked to household space and to its place in the community structure, whereas in flat sites with no superimposed rebuilding and greater household dispersal, proximal house replacement over time reflects a predominant concern with claims over 'sectors' of the residential area together with 54 The nature of early farming in Central and South-east Europe surrounding arable plots (cf. Bogaard 2004; Boga-ard et al. in press b). An issue raised at the start of this paper concerned the problem of identifying the 'origins' of intensive mixed farming, given its technological simplicity. Notwithstanding the possibility that intensive cultivation could have developed independently in different areas, the apparent continuity of intensive mixed farming across south-east and central Europe raises the possibility that the range of crops and livestock adopted in south-east Europe were already embedded and integrated in earlier patterns of intensive mixed farming in the Near East. This question lies beyond the remit of the present paper (Bo- gaard in prep) but may help to explain the 'packaged' nature of Neolithic life from its beginnings in the Fertile Crescent. -ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS- I would like to thank Mike Charles and Paul Halstead for helpful comments on an earlier draft of this paper. 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Routledge. London. ZVELEBIL M. 2000. The social context of the agricultural transition in Europe. In C. Renfrew and K. Boyle (eds.), Archaeogenetics: DNA and the population prehistory of Europe: 57-79. contents 58 UDK 903.2(4/5)"633/634":291.37:159.961 Documenta Praehistorica XXXI The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Mihael Budja Department of Archaeology, University of Ljubljana, SI miha.budja@uni-lj.si ABSTRACT - In desimplifying the logic of colonisation and transition to farming we discuss hunter-gatherers' and farmer's symbolic structures in the Balkans and Carpathians. Particular attention is paid to the concepts of'revolution of symbols', 'external symbolic storage' and 'signs of all time'. Our basic premises are (1) that ceramic technology and the principles of fragmentation and accumulation were not the exclusive domains of farmers and, (2) that the hunter-gatherers' symbolic structures and the process of transition to farming were not exclusive and competitive but rather correlative in maintaining control and power within society and over the frameworks of external interactions and exchange networks. IZVLEČEK - V razpravi analiziramo 'kognitivne' pristope in koncepte, povezane s simbolnimi strukturami lovcev in nabiralcev ter poljedelcev. Opozarjamo na interpretativnipomen 'entoptov', 'revolucije simbolov' in 'eksternega hranjenja simbolov' v kontekstu procesa neolitizacije Balkana in Karpatov. KEY WORDS - Palaeolithic; Neolithic; Eurasia; transition to farming; symbolism INTRODUCTION The prejudices toward hunter-gatherers in general, and Mesolithic peoples in particular, are well embedded in the context of the humanistic evaluation of the genesis of European civilization ever since historian Herodotus of Halicarnassus (ca 485-425 BC) marked the agricultural frontier in his book The History as the boundary between the civilized and the barbarian worlds. The prejudices became broadly accepted in the typologically oriented perception of European prehistory as Gordon Childe put forward the concepts of 'an oriental view' and of the European Neolithic 'as a story of imitation' and 'at best, an adaptation of Middle Eastern achievements' (Müller 1972.101-131; Trigger 1980.66-67; Budja 1996. 61-76). It was suggested that changes in collective psychology - 'the revolution of symbols'- must have prece- ded and engendered all the others in the process of transition to farming, and that the regions peripheral to the Levant did not become neolithicised until the new ideology reached them (Cauvin 2000.23, 207-208). Steven Mithen, thinks on contrary, that the rise of agriculture was a direct consequence of 'an integration of technical and natural history intelligence' evolved with the emergence of 'cognitive fluidity' (a term denoting how the modular human mind has learned to work) and the origins of art, religion, and science in the upper Palaeolithic. There were domestications of plants and animals that can only be related to the initial Neolithic (Mithen 1996. 217-226). In southeastern Europe, the transition to farming has been related to intrusive agricultural communities that created the Neolithic diaspora in which far- 59 Mihael Budja ming communities dispersed across the regions. It was hypothesised that the migrating farmers brought in the new technologies, symbolic behaviours and symbols. The appearance of pottery has been understood for decades as the exclusive marker of cultural discontinuity between Late Mesolithic and Early Neolithic cultures. Pottery decoration was chosen as the marker of "indisputable typological similarities" with the cultural traditions of Asia Minor on the one hand, and the marker of the Early Neolithic ethnic groups on the other. In the scenario of endemic movement, 'earplugs' 'pins' and 'stamp seals' are hypothesised to have been well embedded in the baggage of the immigrants. They have been understood as signifiers of a 'marine version of the wave of advance model' (Renfrew 1987.169-170), and also used as markers of the Near Eastern 'great exodus' and 'insular colonisation' of the Balkans (Perles 2001.283-290; 2003. 99-113). It was hypothesised also that social and symbolic domestication preceded the transition to agriculture in the northern Balkans (Hodder 1990.31-32, 41-43). In desimplifying the logic of colonization and transition to farming in southeastern Europe we pointed out elsewhere that elements of the Neolithic package are well embedded in hunter-gatherer social contexts and that Neolithic symbolic structures in the Balkans do not mirror the paradigmatic ornamental and symbolic principles of Asia Minor (Budja 2003a; 2003b; 2004 in press) IN PURSUIT OF THE SYMBOLIC The dichotomy between the material world and invisible ideas and feelings are topics under constant discussion. It may appear trivial, but while anthropologists can usually assess the functions and meanings of most artefacts and symbols by correlating them with selected, observable behaviours, pre-histo-rians must construct hypothetical behaviours which can never be verified directly. Assigning functions to prehistoric artefacts therefore relies exclusively on inferential arguments and the axiomatic principle that artefacts are material containers that convey archaeologically accessible symbolism to the degree that we think they are material and cultural. Discussing 'Symbolic Archaeology' John Robb (1998.331) pointed out an interpretative paradox: "If we understand how a prehistoric rock carvings was made tech- Fig. 1. Entoptic basic categories, each represented here by a typical form (after Oster 1970.87). nologically without knowing why it was made culturally, the effort is considered a failure, and symbolic archaeology is pronounced impossible. But if we understand how prehistoric people produced their food technology without knowing the cultural reasons why they produced what and how much they did in the way they did, the effort is considered a successful demonstration of economic archaeology; never mind that we have reduced a complex, value-laden set of social relations to a simple faunal inference." However, at the risk of oversimplification, he outlines three major traditions that archaeologists have followed in conceptualizing symbols: the structuralist, the processual, and the post-modern. Each has its own preferred objects of study, understandings of social relations and power, and epistemology. While the first tradition treats symbols as cultural structures, in the second they have been viewed as tokens that represent reality. In the last, symbols have been manipulated as tesserae, arbitrarily incorporated into phenomenological experience (Robb 1998.329-346). In the heuristics of identifying symbols, 'top-down' and 'bottom-up' approaches have been recognized. Ethnographic-cultural narratives have significant positions in both, whether embedded in a cultural matrix within which clusters of archaeological data can be integrated into meaningful virtual behaviours or in reconfigurations of the data within middle-range hypothetical interpretations (Bouissac 2004. online). What we find to be creative approaches in the archaeology of symbols have been conceptualized as en-toptics, 'the signs of all times' (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1988; 1993), and as the cognitive model of 'external symbolic storage' (Donald 1991; 1997; 1998a; 1998b). 60 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage The syntagm 'external symbolic storage' relates to "...the most salient and indisputable property of material culture: it exists only in relation to interpretative codes stored inside the heads of the people who invented it, that is, inside their 'biological' memory systems. Written symbols, and even other less explicitly symbolic aspects of material culture, are external to biological memory, and serve as storage devices for the information needed to replicate entire cultures. This simple fact changes the nature of shared cognition. But it also makes the archaeologist's job very difficult, because the specific content of symbols can never exhaust their functions when in use. When in use, symbols engage biological memory, which is creative, constructive, dynamic, force. Symbols and cognitive artefacts are thus drawn into a maelstrom of shared cognitive activity in any culture. Artefacts are static things, and undoubtedly serve as static storage devices, but their functions in the larger cultural matrix go well beyond mere storage, because they are in dynamic interaction with the entire cognitive-cultural system in any living culture." (Donald 1998b.184). Donald recognized external symbols as very powerful transforming forces in human life that altered the cognitive landscape as they became more potent storage devices, capable of storing explicit and more detailed knowledge. Donald's model proposes three stages/transitions in the evolution of culture and cognition. The first and the second cognitive transformations are still genetically based and linked to the development of mimetic skills and lexical inventions related to oral-mythic culture. The third, the transition from pre-literate to symbolically literate societies, relates to the externalization of memory storage which rapidly involves new memory media and new types of symbolic artefacts. It began in the Upper Palaeolithic, and has been marked by a long and culturally cumu- Fig. 2. Petroglyph in Helan Mountains, China (after Xu Cheng and Wei Zhong 1993.353). lative history of 'visuo-symbolic' invention, which advanced through various well-documented stages, culminating in a variety of complex graphic and numerical conventions, and writing systems. External memory evolved to the point where records, mediated by a "literate" class, started to play a governing role and a variety of large, externally-nested cultural products, called theories, emerged. In the process of the externalization of memory, he conceptualized four structural arrangements. We point out two of these: cognitive reorganization and the changed role of biological memory (Donald 1997.744-747). The first introduced new cognitive skill-clusters that are referred to as 'literacy' routines, including full symbolic literacy extends, which are well beyond the traditional Western perception of literacy, that is, alphabetic reading competence. The neuropsycho-logy of various acquired dyslexias, dysgraphias and acalculias has revealed a cluster of functionally dissociable cognitive "modules" in the brain that are necessary to support these skills. It is hypothesized (see above) that 'literacy support networks' are anatomically and functionally distinct from those that support oral-linguistic skills. There are three dissociable, visual, interpretative paths involved in symbolic literacy: the pictorial, ideographic, and phonetic. They emerged at different historical phases of visuo-symbolic evolution, and remain functionally independent of one another. The most basic is pictorial, and is needed to interpret pictorial symbols such as pictograms and visual metaphors. The second, ideographic, maps visual symbols directly onto ideas, as in the case of Chinese ideographic writing, most systems of counting, and analogue graphic devices like maps and histograms. The third is phonetic, and serves to map graphemes onto phonemes, as in alphabetical print. The second structural arrangement, the changed role of biological memory, relates to the way in which external mnemonic devices alter human working memory. Working memory is generally conceived of as a system centred on consciousness. Using a cognitive system model, Donald hypothesised that when we think, we either imagine, via the sketchpad (responsible for the manipulation and temporary storage of visual and spatial information), or verbalize, via an articulatory loop (responsible for storing speech-based information). In preliterate cultures, all individuals have had to work with this, and its limitations are well documented. 61 Mihael Budja This situation changed with the increased use of external symbolic storage and the breaking out of this limited working memory arrangement. The larger architecture within which the individual mind works has changed - the structure of internal memory is now reflected in an external mnemonic context that serves as the real 'working memory' for many mental operations, and as an external 'long-term' store. It allowed for important new developments, new meta-lin-guistic skills, the kinds of symbolic products and cognitive artefacts that humans could produce and maintain. It is believed that any single new entry in the external storage "system, from Palaeolithic cave-paintings to modern science, has never been a trivial occupation" {Donald 1997.737-791; 1998a. 7-17). This model has been criticised because of its inconsistent correlation of the sequence of evolution of material culture and the sequence of cognitive transitions. Renfrew (1998.3-4) disagrees that the (third) transition to 'theoretic culture utilizing external symbolic storage' is marked as a palimpsest of a long and culturally cumulative history from upper Palaeolithic paintings to early writing systems in Mesopotamia. External symbolic storage employing symbolic material culture, he suggests, was not a characteristic of hunter-gatherer, but of agrarian societies, and the third transition can be equated only with the transition to farming. External symbolic storage in the form of writing, he adds, is a marker of a fourth transition and urban societies. Parallel to 'external symbolic storage' Lewis-Williams and Dowson {1988.201-244; 1991.149-162; 1993.55-65) proposed the concept of 'the signs of all times'. The proposition is based on a neuropsy-chological bridge between modern experiences in altered states of consciousness and Palaeolithic and Neolithic imagery. They actualize the idea, originally proposed by Oster {1970) in America and Eichmeier, Hofer, Knoll and Meire-Knoll {Eichmeier and Hofer 1974) in Europe that the abstract ornaments and motifs on Neolithic pottery, clay stamps, megalithic art, rock paintings and engravings in Europe, Africa and Australia derived from the luminous, geometric entoptic phenomena, known also as form constants Fig. 3. Bedolina petroglyph topographic map (after Turconi 1998.Fig. 1). and phosphenes, seen in certain altered states of consciousness. Neuropsychological laboratory experiments have shown that in an initial stage of trance, participants see luminous, pulsating, enlarging, fragmenting and changing geometric forms which include grids, sets of zigzags and parallel lines, dots, triangles, squares, circles, spirals, arcs, crosses, meanders, and nested centenary curves. {Fig. 1) These forms are defined as entoptic phenomena because they are 'within the optic system' and are independent of an external source of light. In the deeper, second stage of trance, participants try to make sense of these forms by elaborating them into iconic forms as objects familiar and/or important to them. In religious contexts they become important ritual objects. In the third and deepest stage of trance, mental imagery is more culturally controlled, and entoptics tend to be peripheral. The participant's attention is focused on iconic hallucinations of animals, people, monsters and highly emotional events in which they themselves participate. At this point of visual hallucination two intertwined principles overlap: geometric, entoptic images that derive from the universal human nervous system {neurologically controlled elements), and culturally controlled iconic hallucinatory visions of culturally controlled items such as animals and people, as well as somatic and aural experiences that derive from the subject's mind or culture {psychological elements). The complex iconic images appear to drive from memory, and are often associated with powerful emotional experiences. This shift to iconic imagery is also accompanied by an increase in vividness. Both kinds of image are processed or transformed according to neurologi- 62 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Fig. 4. Upper Palaeolithic ivory figurines. Mezin, Desna River basin, Ukraine (after Abramova 1962. XXXI). cally based principles such as replication, fragmentation, combination, rotation, superpositioning, and juxtapositioning. The ways in which subjects perceive both entoptics and iconic hallucinations are many and varied. In such an experience a grid or dots may be integrated with animals and people, or an animal can be blended with the characteristics of another species and combined to produce composite animals and therianthropes. These three stages are not necessarily sequential, but cumulative. Lewis-Williams and Dowson applied the three stage model of altered consciousness to two known and ethnographically well documented shamanistic arts from different continents and to Upper Palaeolithic paintings and engravings, both mobile and parietal, as well as to Neolithic megalithic art. The first is that of the southern African San (Bushman) rock paintings and engravings. The second is Shoshone Coso rock art of the California Great Basin. Both arts are known historically and ethnographically to be sha-manistic. San rock art was favoured because shama-nistic images can be studied simultaneously from two directions: neuropsychological approach explains the forms of depictions; the meanings of these depictions can be established from directly relevant ethnography. In applying the neuropsychological, three stage model of altered consciousness and its utility to Palaeolithic and Neolithic imagery, they say that as many as 437 of the 488 (or 90%) societies that have been surveyed had some form of institutional altered states of consciousness. They ranged from foraging to more complex societies and, therefore "there are a priori grounds for suspecting some form of institutionalised altered states during the Neolithic" (LewisWilliams and Dowson 199355; see also Sherrat 1991.50-64). However, as neuropsychological research has shown that hallucinations comprise geometric and realistic imagery, we have to be cautious in claiming that Upper Palaeolithic or Neolithic art derived "in part from the mental imagery of altered states if only signs had been present", and that "practically any geometric motif by itself" can not be recognized as entoptic in origin and therefore indicative of shamanism (Lewis-Williams and Dowson 1990.407; Lewis-Williams 2004.107). It is hypothesised that at "least some Palaeolithic people experienced hallucinations induced by one or more of the many techniques that range from the ingestion of psychotropic drugs to sensory deprivation", and their mental imagery "would necessarily have included hallucinations very like the range of depictions in their art" (Lewis-Williams 1991.158; 2002). It has also been shown that altered states of consciousness can be experienced in a variety of circumstances other than shamanism, and that entopic phenomena can be seen in migraine attacks and schizophrenic conditions (Asaad and Shapiro 1986.1088-1097; Richards 1971.88-96). However, migraine-induced visions have certainly have played a role in religious experience in the European Christian tradition and, there is no need to exclude the variety of mental disorders, including schizophrenia, migraine and epilepsy, as well as the induction of altered states of consciousness by sensory deprivation, rhythmic dancing, hyperventilation, and pricking sensations etc. (Eliade 1972; Pearson 2002). Sherratt (1991.51-52, 54, 61-62) indicates the importance of sensory-altering substances by saying that there would have been an extensive knowledge of the 'various mood-altering substances' which were available in the natural flora, and which survive today in the attenuated form of 'herbal reme- Fig. 5. Ceramic 'Black Venus' of Dolni Vestonice (after Soffer et al. 1993.Fig.1) 63 Mihael Budja dies'. The quantity of the stimulant need not be large, as it may be enhanced by fasting or breath control. Such experiences are likely to be deliberately sought in the course of ceremonies or rituals, at that time perhaps seen as a means of accessing other worlds. He sums up by saying that there was a considerable potential for the spread of even mild stimulants and of methods of preparation which enhanced their effectiveness and, that "any account of prehistoric Europe which omits a consideration of such substances is likely to be incomplete". Along the written records which give many accounts of drug use he notes some concrete evidence - ceramic pots for smoke inhalation in the Mihailovka, Tripo-lye, and Bodrogkeresztur cultures in eastern Europe, and in megalithic complexes in western Europe. It is reasonable, therefore, to assume that some form of shamanism can be applied to early prehistoric art to objectify a religion centred on altered states of consciousness. Because the human nervous system is everywhere alike, we can assume that the effects of its functioning were the same from the Au-rignacien to the present, and in all parts of the world. Neuropsychological research has shown that visual hallucinations experienced in altered states are cross-culturally uniform (Eichmeier and Hofer 1974; Lewis-Williams 1991.159-160; 2002.189227; Dowson 1998a. 73; 1998b.333-343; Dowson and Porr 2001.165-177). However, what needs to be mentioned is a criticism of the thesis that archaeological findings may be interpreted as shamanic and that there exists something like a 'general shamanic ability'. Anthropologists have made a coherent and strong front against, as they want to be "a refreshing antidote to a regrettable phenomenon...i.e. the uncritical and unfounded presentation of 'shamanism' as a key to understanding prehistoric rock art." (Francfort and Hama-yon, Bahn 2001.51). The concept of 'the signs of all times' has been ideologised, such that rock engravings should be understood as homogenous religious phenomenon shared by the 'primitives' of all times and places, from Eurasian Palaeolithic hunters to the San of Africa and Shoshone of America, having one religion and one iconography, while 'high' civilizations have complex religious and religious iconographies. It is believed, paradoxically, that archaeologists marginalized shamanic processes to the level where rock art is interpreted as the creation of shamans, who, after a trance experience induced by obsessive dancing, fasting or hallucinogenic drugs, depict their visions on rocks and artefacts Fig. 6. 'Fragmented' anthropomorphic ceramic Jig-urines from Dolni Vestonice and Pavlov (after Verpoorte 2001.Figs. 3. 6, 7, 8, 9, 46 and 54). (Layton 2000.169-186; Klein et al. 2002.383-420; Helventson and Bahn 2003.213-224; se also Hodgson 2000.866-873). We will not enter into a discussion of the diagnostic element of shamanism and the social status of shamans, but point out the concept of 'labelled landscape' that one may find neutral. That is to say, pre-and historically interactive symbolic palimpsests are available where replicated, fragmented, combined, rotated and superpositioned entoptics associated with animals and people have been recognized as evidence of an external symbolic storage of spatial knowledge, not necessarily related to a shamanis-tic interpretative network. LABELLED LANDSCAPE Along with temporal continuity, geographical continuity - the universal occurrence of rock art in Eurasia, Africa and Australia - has been demonstrated elsewhere. The rock art of China seems to be the earliest that has been recorded in historical documents, as early 6th century AD, when the geographer Li Daoyuan (472-527) mentioned the rock engraving in Shuijing Zhu (Commentary on the Classic of Rivers), he saw while surveying the land in many parts of China (Chen Zhaofu 1991.26-36). The Chinese rock art concentrations, found along the northern frontier close to the remains of the 64 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Fig. 7. Zoomorphic ceramic statuettes from Pred-mosti and Dolni Vëstonice (after Verpoorte 2001. Figs. 3.73 and 8.1). Great Wall, apparent symbols of the Chinese empire, have been studied recently (Xu and Wei 1993; Dematte 2004.5-23) (Fig. 2). Petroglyph sites are located on the two main mountain ranges: the Yinshan of Inner Mongolia, which runs for over thousand kilometres along the Yellow River, and the Helanshan of Ningxia Province. Archaeological and historical data indicate that for millennia - from the Neolithic to the later dynastic phases in the nineteenth century - these areas were (military) borders that separated different economic lifestyles, nomadic pastora-lism in the north and arable farming in the south. It is believed that these mountains were chosen as petroglyph sites not only because they provided stone surfaces necessary for carving, but also because their canyons were on communication routes which connected the world of the steppe with China. Archaeological and textual evidence shows that the northern silk route passed through these areas, and that the local nomadic populations were engaged continually in exchange and trading activities. Paola Dematte suggests that the petroglyphs and paintings there were not only associated with religion, ritual and shamanistic activities, but also related to more prosaic activities such as dotting the landscape. It is that nomadic societies created their own signs to mark borders and to reiterate 'the symbolic attachment' to the land with which they identified. She points out a 'deeper and visual connection' between the single petroglyphs and written signs of the earliest (icono-graphic and symbolic) types (generally known as pictographs). It cannot be overlooked that these pictures also functioned in roles which in literate societies are taken up by writing. If the function of writing and that of petroglyphs may have something in common, there is also a deeper and visual connection between the two, particularly if the single petroglyphs are compared with the earliest pictogra-phic forms of writing. In later periods, when writing became more widespread among the nomads, writing and engravings were combined and sometimes petroglyph production disappeared and writing took over the same surfaces. The inscriptions in Xixia script appended next to earlier petroglyphs describe them as 'the parents of writing' or 'the writing of the spirits of writing', thus making clear the close connection perceived by literate people between the two sign systems (O.c. 20). The systematic simplification and transformation of images into easily recognizable narrative symbols is an acceptable indication that petroglyphs were probably used to record and communicate information, perhaps to later generations, neighbouring groups, or even encroaching enemies. Similar spatial communication 'is also not unlike' that of literate cultures which were attached to their social territories by writings, edicts, historical inscriptions etc. (Dematte 2004.17-21). A similar 'borderland' concept has been applied recently in the interpretation of rock art distribution in Europe (Bradley 2000; see also Coles 2000). There is no doubt that signs, labelling the landscape at significant locations, have been embedded in multiple functions and levels of symbolic behaviour, including spatial perspective. But more indicative are the alternative contexts where the topographic maps and complex landscape representations have been attached to rocks, house walls, and pots. There is a corpus of 43 prehistoric maps available, ranging from Almaden Upper Palaeolithic cave painting to Iron Age rock carving in Val Camonica, and a list of 67 hunting, fishing and gathering societies that created such maps (Zubrow and Daly 1998.164165, 170). Palaeolithic and Neolithic petroglyphs, cave paintings, rock paintings, wall paintings, and Fig. 8. Anthropomorphic ceramic figurine from Maina, Yenisei River basin in Siberia (from Vasi-l'ev 1985.Fig.2). 65 Mihael Budja bone engravings are pictorial, including all the 'the signs of all times'. They are considered to be maps, as they display spatial relationships. They tend to have a focal point, in that emphasis and resolution decrease with distance from familiar points; and they show usage, ownership and horizon marking (O.c. 167). The well-known examples are the petro-glyphic maps at Bedolina in Val Camonica in the Dolomites (Turconi 1998.85-113) (Fig. 3), a wall painting map in ^atalhuyuk (Mellaart 1967.Figs. 59, 60) and the famous Tepe Gawra landscape jar (cf. Zub-row and Daly 1998.Figs. 13.1-2). All the items listed have been hypothesised as memory devices and, we may additionally say they are multifunctional and multidimensional in symbolic behaviour. The palimpsests of 'entoptics', 'pictorial' and 'ideographic' visual representation are still driven by mimetic organizational principles, although they operate as external symbolic storages at a different, more sophisticated level. However, they clearly reflect the external representation of spatial knowledge. THE GREAT GODDESS OR DRESSED CERAMIC VENUS, SHAMANISM, EXTERNAL SYMBOLIC STORAGE, AND THE ORIGINS OF CERAMIC FRAGMENTATION The small series of early Upper Palaeolithic sculptures in Europe consisting of female figurines, theri-anthropes, and several animal figurines is believed to have been followed in Gravettian by numerous zoomorphic and anthropomorphic figurines carved from mammoth ivory, bones and tusks, limestone and marble, or modelled in ceramics. There are cor-puses of some 200 female figurines, and a much larger, but ill-defined number of animal figurines whose distribution in Eurasia from the Pyrenees to Lake Baikal in Siberia indicate a Gravettian cultural tradi- tion. The main focus of attention has been on Palaeolithic depictions of women, commonly named Venu-ses. Less attention has been paid to stylized female figurines and the 'design motifs' attached to them. This selective focus on the emotionally charged primary and secondary sexual characteristics has led to 'gynecocentric' (see Meskell 1995.74-86) explanations of symbols of fertility, palaeo-erotica and self-portraiture on one hand, and conflicting conceptualizations of female divinity and the nature of mother goddesses (Ucko 1968; Gamble 1982; Gimbutas 1982; 1989; 1991; Marshack 1991.17- 31; McDer-mott 1996.227-275; Goodison and Morris 1998; Soffer, Adovasio and Hyland 2000. 511- 537). It is worth remembering that Marija Gimbutas, although finding the model of the 'Great Mother' deity inconsistent with her conceptualization of the complex of nineteen female divinities embedded in the 'Great Goddess' (1989), applied to the Palaeolithic parthenon the 'bird goddess' only. She believes she has identified and decoded at least fifty ideograms, including many geometrical and other 'abstract signs' and 'animal symbols', but there is, again, a very limited number to which she applied to Palaeolithic imagery, and all of them supposedly relate to 'aquatic symbols', 'waters of life' and 'aquatic family' (Gimbutas 1982; 1989). Three-dimensional imagery, animal statuettes, human figurines and therianthropes, (whether they bear geometric signs and entoptics or not), have been hypothesised in an alternative approach as shaman's helpers - it is believed they were reified spirit animals and dead ancestors, with all their prophylactic and other powers, as integral parts of shamanism (Lewis-Williams 2002.169-293; Schlesier 2001.410; see also Layton 2000.169-186). The suggested examples from Europe (Predmosti, Dolni Ves- Site Anthropomorphic Figurative 'Ceramics' Dolni Vestonice I 12 (note 1) >721 > 5,760 Dolni Vestonice II - north - > 2 (10?) 431 Dolni Vestonice II - west - 1 7 Dolni Vestonice III _ 1? Pavlov I 8 (note 1) > 100 - 10,000 Pavlov II ? - 135 Predmosti I >2 > 2 Jarosov II - — 1? Krems-Wachtberg (note 2) - 3 3 Fig. 9. Ceramic assemblages of Upper Palaeolithic Pavlovian sites in Central Europe (after Verpoorte 2001.Tab. 5.1). 66 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage However, it is broadly accepted that there are many thousands of ceramic artefacts - anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figurines and pellets - across Eurasia, from the Pyrenees to the Yenisei Basin in Siberia, well-embedded in Upper Palaeolithic contexts. We can not avoid the similarities of shape and ornamentation to much later Neolithic figurines in Anatolia and Europe, although thousands of years lie between them, and they appear indifferent social and economic contexts. It is a fact, however, that ceramics were used for figurines, instead of pots and polished stone, for decorative elements instead of axes. Fig. 10. Composed ceramic figurine, Dolni Vestoni-ce in Moravia (after Verpoorte 2001.Fig. 3.6). tonice) and Siberia (Mal'ta) are embedded in Gravet-tian and Solutrean cultural contexts. A much more simplistic approach focuses on the question of whether Gravettian Venuses in Eurasia depict an Upper Palaeolithic ideology of dressing or not. The results of very recent studies indicate 'dressed female bodies' and the occurrence of textile use and weaving technology. The focus has thus been moved from the sexual characteristics to 'symbols of achievements' of female weavers and related power, prestige, and value (Soffer, Adovasio and Hyland 2000.511-537; Soffer and Adovasio 2004.270282). The 'geometrical design' on Mezin's figurines have been recognized as weaving patterns and design elements that can be linked to 'East European Slavs' (2000.533) (Fig. 4). We agree, they can be interpreted as aniconic geometrical designs for all times, but they might also have been acting as en-toptic phenomena. Despite the strong wind of interpretative change, there are still some intriguing points in interpreting Upper Palaeolithic imagery and technologies. Janusz K. Kozlowski has pointed out recently that "Gravettian Venus figurines exhibit more characteristics in common with the figurines of the initial Neolithic of the Near East than with the Late Mag-dalenian or Epigravettian". His comment was marginalized, as it revives Gimbutas interpretation, and conflates time and space (Soffer, Adovasio and Hyland 2000.526, 533; Kozlowski 1992). The anthropomorphic figurines, zoomorphic statuettes and pellets of fired clay were produced at Upper Palaeolithic sites at Dolni Vestonice, Pavlov, Pe-trkovice and Predmosti in Moravia (Klima 1989. 81-90; Vandiver et al. 1989.1002-1008; Soffer et al. 1993.259-275; Gamble 1999.402-404). The most easterly anthropomorphic ceramic figurine was found at an open air site at Mayininskaya near Maina, on the left bank of Yenisei River in Siberia (Vasil'ev 1985.193-196; Maina online). (Figs. 5, 6, 7, 8) In Central Europe, ill-defined types of ceramic fragments were found at Krems-Wachtberg, Moravany-Lopata, Jarosov, and hypothetically at Kasov and Cejkov (Verpoorte 2001.95-96). On the Russian Plain at Kostenki, on the banks of the River Don, more than four hundred fragments of low-temperature-fired ceramic were found, contextually associated with hearth, marl and ivory Venus figures, and animal statuettes (Abramova 1962; Soffer et al. 2000.814). At the Dolni Vestonice and Pavlov camps, located about three hundred meters from each other, more than 16 000 ceramic objects have been found. According to the available statistics, at Dolni Vestonice almost all the figurines and statuettes are fragmented Fig. 11. Entoptic phenomena engraved on mammoth tusk, Pavlov in Moravia (after Verpoorte 2001.Fig. 3.69) 67 Mihael Budja Fig. 12. 'Therianthro-pe' incised on mammoth tusk, Predmostt in Moravia (after Marshack 1991.Fig.5J (Fig. 9). It is interesting to note that, with the exception of Predmosti, ceramic objects at the other sites were contextual associated with hearts or kilns, and that many fractures were not caused by mechanical means, but are high-energy fractures, caused by thermal shock. It should be noted that the pellets and balls which form a large part of the ceramic inventory remained mostly unbroken. This led Vandiver and Soffer to reconstruct the entire process of ceramic production by examining the technological skills which were involved. They found out that the local loess was suitable for shaping the female figurines, animal statuettes and pellets. Figurines and statuettes were made of several small pieces of clay stuck together (Fig. 10). Heads, legs, feet, ears and tails were shaped separately and attached to the bodies. They were fired at temperatures between 500° and 800°C. The most important finding was the evidence of thermal shock, an explosive reaction which shatters clay when it is being fired. It is believed the figurines, undried or fired at low temperature, had been purposefully rewetted to absorb some liquid, then put into a hot fire where they loudly exploded, sending pieces flying in all directions. It is believed the thermal shock was intentional, and the process of making and firing was therefore more important than achieving a lasting final product. All ivory objects and stone figurines, in contrast, survived in fairly complete states. We have already mentioned that the majority of ceramics were found in the contexts of everyday activities, but at Dolni Vestonice, around and in the 'oven-like hearth' located in the middle of the hut, "two thousand pieces of 'ceramic', among which about one hundred and seventy-five with traces of modelling" were found (Verpoorte 2002.56, 128). The locus of production located in the settlement may reflect a utilitarian, but controlled behaviour related to making, firing and the noticeable fragmenting of the female figurines and animal statuettes. We should not overlook the fact that that thousands of clay pellets were not thermally shocked and were quite consistently fired in the higher temperature and equally distributed over the site (Van-diver et al. 1989.1002-1008; Soffer et al. 1993.259275). A much smaller amount of ceramics was found at Dolni Vestonice II, where six modelled fragments had been deposited in the vicinity of a triple burial. Seven more were found in the 'first settlement unit', deposited in "two depressions in the vicinity of a large heart and a male burial" (Verpoorte 2002.95). Venuses designed for fragmentation are not ornamented. There are a few at Dolni Vestonice and Pavlov bearing almost identical incised pattern on their backs (Soffer et al. 2000.Fig.3; Verpoorte 2001.Figs. 3.6, 3.7, 3.11, 3.79). (Figs. 6, 10) If we accept two basic premises: that the ceramics were not just kiln waste because the makers were 'awfully bad potters' and, that the female figurines and animal statuettes had been intentionally fragmented in well visible and audible explosions, then this was not merely 'playing with fire', but well-controlled pyrotechnic manipulation with newly adopted media - the ceramics. It is worth remembering Gordon Childe, besides the Neolithic revolution, put forward the idea that: "Pot making is perhaps the earliest conscious utilization by man of a chemical change ... this change in the quality of the material must have seemed a sort of magic transubstantiation - the conversion of mud or dust into stone. It may have prompted some philosophical questions as to the meaning of substance and sameness." (Childe 1951. 76-77). Pot making obviously happened much earlier, and they were not vessels, but female figurines, animal statuettes, and small pellets that appeared in Eurasia first. The figurines from Dolni Vestonice and Pavlov are assigned to the Pavlovian, a local variant of the Eastern Gravettian techno-complex, and dated to Fig. 13. Entoptics on ivory plate, Mal'ta in Angara River basin, north of Irkutsk in Siberia (Abramo-va 1962.L. 2, LI. 2). Plate (14.1 x 8.5 cm) with a drill-hole in its centre features three engraved snake figures on one side and impressed spirals on the other. 68 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Fig. 14. Pottery in Osipovka and Ust-Karenga cultural complexes in Siberia and Xianrendong site in southern China (after Kuzmin 2002.Figs. 2 and 7; Zhang Chi 2002.Fig. 9). about 26 000 BP (Verpoorte 2001.86). Ceramics at Kostenki are embedded in dates as early as 24 100 BP to as late as 18 000 BP (Soffer et al. 2000.814). A ceramic figurine at Mayininskaya was deposited in layer 5, which was dated to 16 540+170 BP and 16 176+180 BP (Vasil'ev 1985.193-196; 1996; Va-sil'ev et all 2002.526, Tab. 1). It may not be surprising that transubstantiation and fragmentation in the central European Upper Palaeolithic social context, whether formalized or not, were objectified with the help of Venuses, as they represent the principal component of the three-dimensional imagery of Gravettian parthenon. But it is surprising that the entoptics were not attached to new media, although being broadly applied to ivory and bone imagery, and also stone figurines. Did the audio-visual effects of transubstantiation and fragmentation simply replace them, and the visual and audible magic of newly adopted media, which was not conditioned by the shaman's altered states of consciousness, become accessible to the all members of community? It is believed that ivory and stone Venuses had a much higher value than those modelled in ceramics, as there is no evidence that they were circulating within an alliance or exchange network and that "they were not made to be presented to Palaeolithic spectators" (Verpoorte 2002.99, 108, 129). But it is certainly not the case in Kostenki, where marble, stone and ivory female figurines were broken intentionally, as Abramova (1962.9) pointed out, adding that the number of fragments and traces of repeated pounding might suggest that the destruction of figurines had been ritually necessitated. And we should not overlook engraved entoptic phenomena at Pavlov and therianthrope, an engraved Venus at Predmostf that can be associated with iconic hallucinations. Marshack (1991.24) characterized the latter as 'horned geometric female' and 'mythologized creature'. Ivory plate at Mal'ta with engraved snakes on one side and impressed spirals on the other is believed to objectify a shaman's 'helper' (see above) attached to his costume (Figs. 11, 12, 13). We mentioned above that we would not enter into a discussion of shamanism and their social status, it is reasonable to hypothesise that ceramic production - manipulation, with transubstantiation as the matter of technical knowledge and skills - may have affected their social position. Bearing in mind the dangers inherent in using ethno-historical evidence, it is worth remembering that in some social contexts and related cosmologies potters may be injurious to others because they cause diseases. The worst thing that could happen was that a rain chief should come into contact with a potter. Both would die. The potter would swell up with moisture, while the rain chief perished from a dry cough (Barley 1994.64). Is it then possible that ceramic production in hunter-gatherer societies in central Europe was taboo from the end of the Pavlovian? And can we recognize the ceramic artefacts in the Pavlovian cultural context as external symbolic storage involving new technology, media and audio-visual symbolism? If so, we can assume that external symbolic storage employing technical and symbolic culture was therefore a characteristic of hunter-gatherer as much as of agrarian societies (contra Renfrew, see above). But it was not maintained continuously in Europe. Fig. 15. 'Linearbandkeramik' figurine from Bos-kovstejn in Moravia (after Höckmann 1967.Abb. 1.1). 69 Mihael Budja Fig. 16. Lepenski Vir petroglyph (after Srejovic and Babovic 1983.Fig. 149). However, it was in Siberia. The chronological discontinuity there is negligible and we might speculate that the knowledge of ceramic technology was maintained continuously as the datating of a ceramic anthropomorphic figurine at Mayininskaya in the Yenisei River basin (see above) is close to that of the earliest pottery that appeared in the Amur River basin in the settlement contexts of the Osipovka and Gromatukha cultures. Pottery was dated to within the period of ca. 16 500-14 500/ 15 940-14 310 calBP (13 300-10 400 BP) (Kuzmin and Orlova 2000.356-365; Kuzmin 2002.43; Kuzmin and Keally 2001.1125; Kuzmin and Shew-komud 2003.42; Kuzmin et. al. 2003.39-42; Va-sil'ev 1985.193-196; 1996; Vasil'ev et al. 2002. 526.Tab. 1). It has been suggested on the basis of the latest compilation of the earliest radiocarbon dates that pottery was adopted 'almost simultaneously, around 14 000-13 000 BP' in eastern Asia, which evidently predates the transition to farming. The ceramic vessels were thus recorded in cave sites at Miaoyan, Yu-chanyan, Xiarendong and Diaotonghuan in southern China; the Odai Yamamoto, Kitahara and Tokumaru Nakata sites of the incipient Jomon (Chojakubo-Mi-koshiba cultural complex) in eastern and northern Japan; the Gasya, Khummi, Goncharka and Groma-tukha sites in Amur River basin in Siberia. The earliest vessels are described as deep bowls, with flat or pointed bases, with walls up to two centimetre thick. The estimated volume of the pot is approximately 5.5 to 6 litres. The secondary burning, carbonized adhesion, soot and water lines seen on many fragments, suggest that the basic functions of the pottery were boiling water and foods or other organic materials and extracting fish oils from salmonids. There are differences in ornamental motifs between the regions. While in Japan, plain vessels prevail, vertically grooved decoration is typical of Chinese pottery. In Siberia the ornamental principles are more complex, as they consist of vertical and horizontal grooves and zig-zag impressions. On some, the vertical zig-zag designs and horizontal lines were made with a comb, on others, sinuous lines were made by cords (Zhao and Wu 2000.233-239; Zhang 2002.29-35; Kuzmin 2002.42; Keally, Taniguchi and Kuzmin 2003. 3-14) (Fig. 14). There have been few attempts to explain the principle of fragmentation as a social practice in hunter-gatherer contexts, especially for the ceramics. Departures and arrivals are hypothesised as an obvious motivation for such a rite in forager mobility (Chapman 2000.40-41), and the art (but not diffracted) could have been involved in establishing and maintaining the identity, the genius loci, of these places (Verpoorte 2002.12). 'Fragmented Goddesses' are more intensively discussed in Neolithic farming contexts. It is not because they were believed to posses the special creative magic necessary to coax fertility out of the earth and to be broken and discarded around the village, which brought new life to the soil (Winn 1995), but also because of a wide variety of available ethnographic practices. Figurines are used in initiation rites and then destroyed, buried or kept by an initiate; they are buried with the owners after use in fertility rites; they act as tokens in economic and social transactions (Talaly 1993). The principles of fragmentation and accumulation in the contexts Fig. 17. Lepenski Vir 'therianthrope' (after Srejovic and Babovic 1983. Fig. 118). 70 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage of social interactions between persons, objects and places (Chapman 2000), and 'diffracted' approaches in studies of predominantly female figurines in 'early villages' (Lesure 2002) have been narrated recently. For our approach, it is more important that in the Far East, in Jomon hunter-gatherer contexts, female figurines were incorporated into community rituals, where they were deliberately broken and scattered around the village (cf. Chapman 2000.25-26). Höckmann hypothesised a similar pattern in the central European Linearbandkeramik settlements, where the majority of figurines were intentionally broken and deposited as fragments, some still bearing an incised pattern on the backs similar to the Gravettian Venuses at Dolni Vestonice and Pavlov (Höckmann 1967.2, Abb. 1.1, 5.1) (Fig. 15). One can find of interest the ceramic 'earplug' embedded in a Gravettian assemblage at Pavlovi (Klima 1989.88, Abb. 4q). It is well known that earplugs have been played an important role in the scenario of endemic movement and early Neolithic colonization of Europe. Their restricted geographical distribution, as well the distribution of "pins" and "stamp seals", is used as a key argument in modelling "insular colonisation" and rapid displacements over long distances, as they were hypothesised to be well embedded in the baggage of the immigrants. They have maintained this position since Milojcic conceptualized the pre-pottery Neolithic in Greece (Renfrew 1987.169-170; Perles 2001; 2003.99-113; Milojcic 1959(1960).6; 1960.327-328). BOULDERS, POTS, ORNAMENTS AND/OR ENTOP-TICS IN THE BALKAN MESOLITHIC AND NEOLITHIC We mentioned at the beginning that the transition to farming in southeastern Europe was related to intrusive agricultural communities that created the Neolithic diaspora in which farming communities dispersed across the regions. It was hypothesised that the migrating farmers brought in the new technologies, symbolic behaviours and symbols. The appearance of ceramic technology and pottery production has been understood for decades as the exclusive marker of cultural discontinuity between Late Fig. 1S. Lepenski Vir 'topographic map'petroglyph (after Srejo-vic and Babovic 1983.Fig. 130). Mesolithic and Early Neolithic cultures. The white and red painted pottery decorations were chosen as markers of 'indisputable typological similarities' with the cultural traditions of Asia Minor on the one hand and the marker of sequential demic expansions from the Konya plain in central Anatolia to floodplains in Thessaly first, and to the Danube and Carpathian Basins later on. It is worth remembering that in the broader Eurasian context, the earliest pottery in Thessaly predates by two centuries the appearance of pottery in western Anatolia, and that there is no significant chronological difference in pottery appearance, whether located on the southern tip of the Balkan Peninsula in Thessaly or in its most northerly margin in the Danube Region (Budja 2003a; 2004). Iann Hodder (1990.28-30) believes that on the margin of the early Neolithic world in the hunter-gatherer settlement palimpsest at Lepenski Vir in the Danube basin he can read how economic domestication is associated with or is preceded by social and symbolic domestication. As there is no evidence of domesticates available, he puts forward the idea that the trapezoidal houses objectifying arena where indigenous hunter-gatherers neolithicise themselves socially and symbolically. The act of domestication is supposed to have been dramatic. The dead bodies and/or selected bones of ancestors and the antlers of wild stag were brought into the houses and buried within the domus. The same principle he applies to "cultural products", stone sculptures and statutes, which being wild because depict fish-like ancestors and retaining the form of natural boulders. They become domesticated when brought into houses and placed behind hearths. Pottery was not part of the scenario, although the excavator of the site, while 71 Mihael Budja interpreting the Mesolithic cultural phases at Lepen-ski Vir, pointed out that monochrome pottery fragments had been found lying on the floor of fifteen Mesolithic trapezoidal buildings. He described the pottery assemblage as comprising simple forms with limited ornamental techniques and motifs. The pots were mainly undecorated, and those that were ornamented comprised impressed ornamentation made by fingertip and fingernail or the edges of freshwater shells and awls (Srejovic 1971.8-9). Pottery was contextually associated with burials, stone and other decorated sculptures, altars, and artefacts ornamented with various symbols and attached meanings deposited on the floors of the same buildings. A remarkable symbolic structure was well preserved in the centrally positioned trapezoidal building. A pot adorned with spiral ornaments was deliberately incorporated into a context associated with burials of newborns, and red and black coloured stone sculptures. Special attention should also be drawn at this point to a building where pottery was associated with a deer skull, a stone figurine and two juvenile burials (Garasanin and Radovanovic 2001.120, Fig. 4; Boric 1999.52; 2002a.Fig. 7; Budja 2003a. 347-359). The Lepenski Vir site in general, and trapezoidal buildings in particular, were recently dubbed a "deep time metaphor". Boric (2002b.46-74; see also Chapman 1993 71-121) hypothesises that they represent sacred heirlooms upon which repetitive mnemonic and apotropaic practices were performed. Houses with buried ancestors and animals and "boulders" placed on limestone floors he recognizes as sources of ancestral and apotropaic power and potency, evolving a consciousness of a collective deep time. From this perspective the disarticulated ancestral bones and skulls are attributed first-class apotropaic power and potency. Sculptured boulders are assigned as second-class agencies in anchoring and emitting ancestral powers and potencies. It is well known, however, that almost all of them are carved, engraved and red and/or black painted with secondary (hydrothermal) pigment that can be distinguished from traces of burning (Srejovic and Babovic 1983; Radovanovic 1996.140). But it is less known they bear petroglyphs, which we can interpret in accordance with a neuropsychological model of altered consciousness as 'signs of all time' -entoptic motifs and their construals (Fig. 16) and theriantropes (Fig. 17). Topographic markers and landscape representations are attached to some others (Fig. 18). They might have been maps and were Fig. 19. Lepenski Vir. Engraved and incised imagery attached to stone monuments and stone, bone and antler tools and implements (after Srejovic and Babovic 1983.Figs. 29 and 34). perceived as mnemonic devices and as such can be incorporated into Zubrow's and Daly's corpus of prehistoric maps mentioned above. It is worth remembering that similar imagery was also attached to stone, bone and antler tools, and implements (O.c.) (Fig. 19). It is well known that they were embedded in hunter-gatherer settlement contexts at Lepenski Vir. But it is less known that they have also been found at 72 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Fig. 20. Lepenski Vir site plan showing centrally positioned trapezoidal building 54, and children burials, stone boulders and pottery distributions (after Babovic 1997.Slika 1; Bonsall et al. 2000.Fig. 8; Boric 2002.Fig. 7). Vlasac, Padina, Hajducka Vodenica, Cuina Tarcului and Schela Cladovei in the Danube Djerdap gorges (Srejovic and Babovic 1983.56-57; Boroneaf 1990. 479). And it has been overlooked for decades that they were embedded in agricultural settlement contexts at Gura Baciului in Transylvania (Vlassa 1972. 187-191; Lazarovici and Maxim 1995.379). We may hypothesise that hunter-gatherers and early farmers in the northern Balkans and Carpathians transformed the basic rock art principles in a way they made them portable and incorporated them into settlement and dwelling contexts. It is not that they brought and circulated the monuments within and between the settlements, but fixed them inside the trapezoidal buildings. The sandstone boulders and blocks were brought from some 10 km from the upper stream of a tributary of the Danube. Contextual studies show a clear spatial patterning of monuments within the buildings, as a high percentage of monuments are found behind the hearths at the rear of the houses (Srejo-vic1969; Srejovic and Babovic 1983; cf. Chapman 1993.103) and associated with burials, some of them of new born infants and children (Budja 2003.352, Fig. 3). They were not visible from the outside. Were they institutionalised to mark the houses of ancestors and places of communal rituals, as is widely suggested? Perhaps, although it seems unlikely that the location of standing monuments in the dark confines of the rear of the buildings was conducive to communal, public and open rituals. It would be con- venient to hypothesise closed, lineal or kinship sha-manic rituals in household contexts, like the shama-nistic role in Lepenski Vir already suggested. The male remains in grave 69 show he was buried in a seated position, and it is believed he was a shaman, as the trapezoidal disposal of his skeleton is clearly reminiscent of an architectonic canon which was adhered to for a millennium (Srejovic 1969.90; Srejovic and Babovic 1983.44-45). Freidman and Rowlands presented in seventies (1977.201-276) a model of social dynamics in 'tribal' societies whereby competitive feasting in the context of ritual activities may led to the emergence of dominant groups with special status involving control of rites and mediation between the community and the supernatural but also over the production and circulation of goods outside the local territory. The question of the meaning of the geometric and iconic features attached to the boulders and tools remains. It would be convenient, again, to ascribe them to mental imagery that became part of a complex system of representation, and to prominent shamans who controlled by the agency of altered states of consciousness supernatural potency and manipulate with prestige and power. We must remember, however, that these symbolic storages were spatially embedded on the extremely strict geographical boundary in Danube Djerdap gorges that must have been respected in deep time as much by hunter-gatherers and nomadic pastoralist as farmers. 73 Mihael Budja Fig. 21. Lepenski Vir. Symbolic inventory of the building 54 (after Srejovic and Babovic 1983.18, 9293,167; Garasanin and Radovanovic 2001.Figs. 1-3^. Ethnographic evidence of complex shamanic rituals and related depictions show that shamans and their power were clearly recognized in small societies and their internal social dynamics, as well as in external communications and even interactions between foragers and farmers. Thus !Kung (San) Bushman shamans struggle in the spirit world of trance experience against frightening spirits of the dead which during the ritual hover in the darkness beyond the light of the fire. The social relations between Bantu speaking farmers and San foragers are well known. Farmers recognized them as the original inhabitants and custodians of the land, but as the farmers were more dependent on rain, they requested San rain makers to perform rituals, giving them cattle in return. Thus shamans have ideological control over the farmers' economy on the one hand, and a new status as procurers of meat, with the power to distribute it, on the other. If !Kung woman marries into a farming community, in some cases the !Kung families acquire cattle as bridewealth (Lewis-Williams 1991.150-153; Dowson 1994.337-341; 1998b.336-339). The interpretation of the Lepenski Vir iconography is based on the myth that all men were children of the river and descendants of mermen (Srejovic 1972.122; Radovanovic 1996a.39-43; 1997.8791; Whittle 1998.138-145). Radovanovic describes the river as being of critical and central importance as the direction for the passage upstream of the ancestors and the departure downstream of the dead, and as a metaphor for death and endings on the one hand, and life and return on the other. The annual returns of anadromous fishes, sturgeon (Acipenser sturio) and Beluga (Acipenser huso) reaching up to 9 metres long and weighing up to 1500 kilograms and living up to 150 years, migrating from the Black Sea and the Mediterranean to the Danube must have been an impressive event, and it is not surprising that fish find their place in the symbolic imagery. But they were not the staple food there and survival did not depend greatly on fishing. However fish-like forms and theriantropes have been well recorded in external symbolic storages on petro-glyphs and stone monuments. For our approach the important complex symbolic structure at Lepenski Vir is embedded in the centrally positioned trapezoidal buildings mentioned above. It consisted of a hearth positioned in the centre of the building, a ceramic pot placed in front of it, three stone monuments behind it: an altar and two erected boulders bearing petroglyphs, painted red and black, with the mandible of a mature woman deposited within it, and two burials of new-borns in the rear of the building. The context is Fig. 22. Lepenski Vir. Human hands modelled on globular ceramic pot (after Srejovic 1969.Fig. 90^. 74 The transition to farming and the 'revolution' of symbols in the Balkans. From ornament to entoptic and external symbolic storage Fig. 23. Gura Baciului and Elesnica. The earliest coloured motifs attached to pottery (after Lazarovici and Maxim 1995.PC I, III, VII; Nikolov and Maslarov 1978.Fig. 2). radiocarbon dated to 6170-6130 cal BC at 2a (Sre-jovic and Babovic 1983; Garasanin and Radova-novic 2001.118-120; Boric 2002.1032; Budja 2003a.352-355) (Figs. 20, 21). We argued recently that pottery was deliberately incorporated into hunter-gatherers' symbolic structures in the Balkans, and we do not need to consider ceramics as exclusively related to farmers. The almost simultaneous interregional distribution of pottery in the Balkans, Ionia and the Adriatic reflects a network of integrative mechanisms that in some regions predate die farming economy and made possible the selective adoption of crops and/or animal husbandry in others (Budja 2001.27-47; 2003a). It is our belief that pottery in the hunter-gather contexts in Lepenski Vir should not be marginalized to the level of containers and cooking pots, but understood in a complex symbolic scenario as a new medium bearing an old symbol. The vessel was certainly not incorporated into the symbolic structure of the central building by coincidence, and the spiral motif on it was certainly not attached by chance, as it represents one of the basic petroglyph motifs (Fig. 19), which was not applied to any other vessel found there. There must have been ideological reasons for ceramic vessels not having been coloured, although the technical manipulation of pigments and ornamental techniques was broadly applied to stone monuments. The pottery's ornamentation was limited to finger, nail and awl impressions. In discussing Lepenski Vir cosmology we should not overlook the particularly narrative symbolism, as shown in a human hands modelled on a large globe-like ceramic pot (Fig. 22). There is again an old symbol on the new medium, giving good reason to believe that the image itself and the act of inscribing it on ceramic vessel are simply parts of a longer chain of operations entailing hunter-gatherers' rituals and beliefs. When the 'painted pottery' appeared in the Balkans the first coloured motifs attached to the vessels had extremely standardized forms, patterns and colours. They were white and correlate perfectly with the basic list of 'signs of all time', which consists of dots, grids, zigzags and parallel lines (Fig. 23). Red and black correlate with more complex motifs and patterns: triangles, squares, circles, spirals, arcs, crosses and meanders which were adopted later (Schubert 1999; Nikolov 2002). Fig. 24. Regional and interregional spatial distributions of stamp seals (after Budja 2003.Map 2). 75 Mihael Budja The ceramic and stone stamp seals (pintaderas) mentioned above are even better indicators, as they exhibit a chronological and typological sequence, but have more structured spatial distributions that might indicate local, regional and interregional cultural practices and social networks in the Balkans. While a labyrinthine design was decorated the first series of stamp seals in Thessaly, dots, zigzags and spiral designs were distributed in the other parts of the Balkans and Carpathians (Budja 2003b.115-130). (Fig. 24) So, in summary we again point to the complex assemblage deposited in an agropastoralist settlement context at Gura Baciului in Transylvania that has been overlooked for decades (Vlassa 1972.178190; Lazarovici and Maxim 1995.379-384). The similar principles we met in the hunter-gatherer context at Lepenski Vir are clearly recognizable: burials, fifteen sculpted monumental boulders, some placed on ceramic pedestals and stone plates with attached petroglyphs. While the impressed motifs on the pottery are identical to those from the Danube Djerdap Gorge, all the others are white and rarely red, and restricted to grids, zigzags and parallel lines. Stone and ceramic female figurines, and images and animal statuettes are reappeared finally (Fig. 22, 25). We might interpret bovine-like statuettes, supposedly representing Bos primigenius, as an indicator of economic change, as well as the broadening of the hunter-gather symbolic structure. CONCLUSIONS It would be incorrect not to remind us of Boroneat's (1990.479) appreciation that the geometric motifs attached to hunter-gatherer tools and implements are identical to those painted on farmers' pottery, and that the "discovery of clay baking and processing towards the end of the Epi-Palaeolithic" in the Balkans and Carpathians resulted in the replacement of stone monuments with ceramic "idols". We can assume that external symbolic storage employing technical and symbolic culture was therefore a characteristic of hunter-gatherer as much as of ag- Fig. 25. Gura Baciului, stone plate with attached anthropomorphic image and ceramic female figurine (after Lazarovici and Maxim 1995.Fig. 21, Fig. 22.1) rarian societies. From our arguments here we should expect that hunter-gather symbolic structures in the Balkans and Carpathians maintained long traditions and that the 'revolution of symbols' in the context of the transition to farming is not a paradigm we have to adopt. Ceramic technology and the principles of fragmentation and accumulation were certainly not the exclusive domains of farmers. As the entoptics, on the other hand, were certainly not the principle exclusively driven in hunter's and foragers' societies that disappeared in the process of transition to farming. We agree with the critical appreciation that any geometric motif by itself can not be identified as ento-ptic in origin and therefore indicative of shamanism. Nevertheless, the first coloured motifs attached to vessels are extremely standardized in terms of form, pattern, and colour, correlating with the basic list of 'signs of all time'. The same concept was applied to stamp seals. Additionally, both were integrated in Early Neolithic settlements in the Balkans and the Carpathians where some were associated with collections of prestige objects (Budja 2003.115-130). 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Cambridge. contents 81 _UDK 903'12/'15(46)"633/634"_ Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Archaeographic and conceptual advances in interpreting Iberian Neolithisation Luiz Oosterbeek Instituto Politécnico de Tomar, Portugal loost@ipt.pt ABSTRACT - Prehistoric research has evolved, in the last decade, from a mere collaboration of disciplines into a new, trans-disciplinary, approach to Prehistoric contexts. New stable research teams, involving researchers with various scientific backgrounds (geology, botanic, anthropology, history, mathematics, geography, etc.) working together, have learned their diversified "vocabularies" and methodologies. As a main result, a more holistic approach to Prehistory is to be considered. Previous models of the Neolithic on the Atlantic side of Iberia were focused on material culture and strict economics (this being an important improvement concerning previous typological series). Current research became open to discussing the meaning of concepts like "food production", "chiefdom" or "territory". It also dropped the "Portuguese/Spanish" frontier that pervaded previous models (to the limited exception of some interpretations for megaliths). Finally, new and important data is now confirming that the "Cardial Neolithic" coastal spread was only one, and a minor element in the Neo-lithisation of the western seaboard. IZVLEČEK - Prazgodovinske raziskave so v zadnjem desetletju na osnovi sodelovanja različnih disciplin dosegle nov, transdisciplinarni pristop k prazgodovini. Strokovnjaki z različnih znanstvenih področij (geologija, botanika, antropologija, zgodovina, matematika, geografija itd.), zbrani v novih stalnih raziskovalnih ekipah, so se spoznali z različnimi strokovnimi besednjaki in metodologijami. Glavni rezultat tega je bolj celosten pristop k prazgodovini. Prejšnji modeli neolitika na atlantski strani Iberskega polotoka so se osredotočali na materialno kulturo in gospodarstvo v ozkem pomenu besede (kar je pomemben napredek v primerjavi zgolj s tipologijo). Današnje raziskave pa so odprte za razpravljanje o pomenu konceptov, kot so "proizvodnja hrane", "poglavarstvo" in "teritorij"... Ravno tako smo presegli omejevanje z mejo Portugalska/Španija, kije vplivala na starejše modele (z delno izjemo nekaterih interpretacij megalitov). In končno, novi in pomembni podatki sedaj potrjujejo, da je bilo razširjanje impresso cardium neolitika ob obali le eno in da je bil to le manj pomemben element pri neolitizaciji zahodne obale. KEY WORDS - Iberia; Neolithic; interpretative models Archaeology is a long term inquiry into the past, aimed at recognising major trends and paths. Even the increasingly detailed chronological methods do not enable us to achieve the level of identifying global synchrony. But we are able to characterise territories, to identify migration routes, raw materials exchange, and so forth. Archaeologists may look at adaptation mechanisms, both to environmental changes and social dynamics. They do so approaching resources management or technological improvements, but also inferring social change. Behind the concepts of Neolithic or Neolithisation rests our notion that the shift towards food production and increasing social complexity was a major achievement from the point of human cultural evolution. This notion derives from a mere observation: in the framework of competition between hunter-gathering and agro-pastoralism, the latter prevailed, enabling demographic growth and wealth accumulation. Regardless of the interpretative models (population pressure or other), the fact remains that in the long term, agro-pastoral models have proved to 83 Luiz Oosterbeek have greater competitiveness. Agro-pastoralism was a step further towards globalisation, in rendering human behaviour more homogeneous (a process already acceleratiing within later Palaeolithic communities that engaged in specific symbiotic relations). This Neolithisation is often perceived as progress from the later hunter-gatherer economies towards food production, assuming that animal and cereal domestication and increased social complexity were recognised as an improvement in these societies. The Neolithic may hence be interpreted as a process of creating an artificial environment, an anthropic environment, filled in by selected species, burned prairies, and stone or wood constructions. Man acted in transforming more stable environments into quantitatively more productive, but less diverse and stable ones. As an example, deforestation enabled crop growth, but impoverished soils and accelerated erosion. One must pay attention, though, to troubling evidence in this process, which suggests it was not so homogeneous: not all species were domesticated at the same time and in the same way. The earliest evidence varies greatly from site to site. There is a great diversity of strategies: hunting, gathering, animal breeding, and cultivation evolve side by side for over two millennia in Iberia. Behind demographic growth there are signs, in some cases, of seasonal hunger. The earliest efforts to deal with the issue of the transition into a system once recognised as the origin of our own society were oriented towards the identification of its single, or main, origin. The focus could be on technological improvements (with Lubbock), major socio-economic changes (with Childe), adaptation economics (with Grahaeme Clarke and, later, Eric Higgs), population pressure, or other factors. But the goal was to identify the origin of the process, perceived as a single trend. To a large extent, the different theoretical approaches, from historic-culturalism onwards, "respected" this goal. Not surprisingly, Orientalism was the prevailing explanatory framework, since it provided a "one-sense" explanatory flow. The "wave of advance" model, established by Luca Caval-li-Sforza, is the most coherent expression of this approach: one centre, one process, one cause (even if the latter was subject to debate). We all know the arguments, taking the greater oriental antiquity of domestication, pottery (including cardial pottery) or population pressure, as well as the alleged absence, in the West, of the main domesticated species. It is curious to notice that the dawn of archaeology was, to a large extent, much open to contradictory explanations, namely when dealing with quaternary stratigraphies. But this was not the case of Neolithic studies, and I believe that a major shift only occurred in the last quarter of the 20th century, when a new generation of models, focused on the process of transition rather than its ultimate result, were developed. The "availability model", by Marek Zvelebil and Peter Rowley-Conwy, and the "islands filter model", by James Lewthwaite, were among these, and the most influential in Iberian studies. More than before, they addressed the issues of local dynamics and continuity, and drew attention to the differences in rhythm of the process: Mesolithic sedentary sites, hunting farmers, pastoralists without agriculture, seasonalism, and so on (Jorge 1998). This new generation of models was a response to the previous rather linear explanations, and provided more questions than answers. It was never a real alternative, but a questioning of earlier approaches. In Portugal, it dominated most of the prehistoric research developed in the last 30 years, but proved to be insufficient to break the previous linear approaches. There is a good reason for this: questioning rather than answering, these models became less popular in an expanding archaeology community, largely oriented to global heritage concerns, who felt the need to start their studies with a basic linear corpus of data associated with the old models. University demography, in this case, was the weapon used by "old timers". In fact, it is significant that three decades of research did not produce a single adjourned manual of Portuguese Prehistory, even if several very important books have been published, namely a "New History of Portugal", with an updated and interrogating Neolithic excellent section by Susana Jorge (1990). The manual, actually, would finally be offered by Joao Cardoso (2003), but following the old linear approaches. In fact, the data accumulated in the last 30 years, largely gathered following the interrogations suggested by the second generation models, now require, at last, some answers (Cruz 1997; Cruz and Oosterbeek 2000; 2001; 2002a; 2002b; Oosterbeek 1997; 1999). It is my opinion that only two possible avenues may be followed at present: to resume diffusio-nism (which offers a coherent explanatory framework) or to build an alternative theoretical background. Let me make a short excursion into the evidence, taking the North Ribatejo region as a case study. 84 Archaeographic and conceptual advances in interpreting Iberian Neolithisation The North Ribatejo is an ecotonal region defined as the confluence towards the Tagus valley of three main geomorphological units. To the east, one finds ancient massif granitic, schist and gneiss formations. To the west are located Secondary limestone hills, and to the south, along the river banks, are recorded Tertiary and Quaternary detritic deposits. The middle Tagus basin, with its tributary main rivers (Ocreza, Eiras, Rio Frio, Moinhos, Zezere, Na-bao/Atalaia and Almonda - all on its north bank) unites these different units. By the mid 7th to early 6th millennium BC, whereas in the lower, estuarine, part of the Tagus valley, Mesolithic groups were managing the landscape by building shell middens (as in the Muge area), other groups were still mainly mobile (sites of Amoreira, or Coalhos), leaving behind several sites dominated by macrolithic industries, mainly made on quartzite, associated with a flint bladelet industry. The latter is little more than residual evidence composed of broken tools, suggesting that these sites were temporary camps, and that once people left they would leave behind only the broken (flint) and coarse (quartzite) tools. A thorough geo-archaeological review of these sites enabled their clear allocation to the Holocene period (previously doubted by many authors). It is in these macrolithic contexts that pottery and polished stone axes first occur, in the transition to the 6th millennium (sites at Amoreira and, probably, Monte Pedregoso). One must consider that this chronology is equivalent to some Andalucian sites, and slightly older (but, in fact, partially overlapping) than the earliest dates for cardial contexts (Ca-branosa and Caldeirao). The bulk of the lithic industry is coarse, dominated by direct abrupt percussion. The location of these settlements suggests an exploitation of riverside resources, including hunting and fishing (although no bone remains exist). In the second half of the 6th millennium this scenario does not seem to have changed, although a few kilometres to the west, in the limestone area, cardial burials have been excavated (Caldeirao and Pena d'Agua). Although we do not have absolute dates for the building phase of the earliest megaliths in the region, they are associated with industries similar to the settlement of Amoreira: coarse pottery, heavy duty tools, scarce flint objects, and polished stone axes. The fabrics of the pottery, and the lithic raw materials, coincide with those found in Neolithic non-cardial sites in the Tagus valley, and indicate a strong divergence from the cardial contexts, which are dominated by good quality decorated pottery and flint objects. One may trace the origins of megaliths in the other margin of the Tagus valley, in the Alentejo region, and one may also find another link between the two regions: rock art. Thus, one observes that the earliest Neolithic is introduced in the region through two routes. One, occupying part of the limestone area, begins with burial cave contexts with cardial or epicardial pottery (the caves of Caldeirao, Nossa Senhora das Lapas, Almonda and, later, Cadaval, and even a cave as far North as the Alvaiazere mountains). Its probable origin is the Atlantic coast, where Neolithic sailors might have arrived from the Central Mediterranean, interacting with coastal Mesolithic population (Araujo 1998; Soares 1997; Soares and Silva 2001). The other route, which occupies the Eastern and Southern territories, is dominated by macrolithic contexts associated with plain coarse pottery. These are dominant in settlements like Amoreira (Tagus valley), but also in the foundation layers of passage graves (e.g. Val da Laje). Their origin is to be found to the southeast, in the Alentejo, suggesting an inland spread of the Neolithic (Calado 2001; Diniz 2001a; 2001b; Gongalves 2001; 2002). This approach denies the dual vision of the Neolithic, opposing Neolithic incomers to epipalaeolithic indigenous people, a model long supported by Jean Guilaine (1996) and recently re-enacted by Joao Zil-hao (1992). In the view of these authors, a more selective use of the available data, relying upon a minority of sites (e.g. the cave of Caldeirao in Portugal), suggests that the Neolithic package expanded to the West associated with cardial pottery, establishing, as J. Zilhao proposed for Iberia, "Neolithic enclaves". But such an exercise leads to difficulties: if the Neolithic is associated with a coastal "cardial spread", why do we find very old cardial ceramics inland? If shell-middens are the result of estuarine adaptation, why do we find them at great distances, like 800 metres a. s.l. and 40 km from the coast? If megaliths are part of a similar trend, why can't we identify a sound structural chronology for them? And if they are not, why can we find so many convergences, both in architecture and art? Why can we see similar bone arrangements in caves and megaliths? Aren't these signs of a web rather than of exclusive enclaves? At this point we may resume our first arguments. I have mentioned that the questioning of established "truth" has been successfully raised in the past 30 85 Luiz Oosterbeek years, but without leading to the construction of a global alternative interpretation model. This is, perhaps, because we are still operating in the "true/ false" framework, which is efficient when considering archaeological evidence (objects, moments), but faces difficulties when dealing with temporal sequences (the main goal of our research). The latter are focused on objects' dynamics, and requires a non-Aristotelian framework, with three alternatives: possible (theoretically determined), true (instantly observed), and absurd (not possible). Since all archaeological temporal distributions are aleatory (their comprehensive description is never shorter than their extension), one has to take this into consideration in the interpretation process. In fact, the available data (radiocarbon dates or other) is never a sample of the total universe of potential data, but a mere fragment of it. One must build a method to approach such aleatory distribution Bo-gossian 1997; Chaitin 1975). The evidence mentioned above suggests that the Neolithic was a process without major material breaks, with several inter-group mechanisms, in which none of the material elements that integrate the "Neolithic package" needs to be present. A process where news is differentially and selectively accepted by some or imposed to others (see Vicent-Garcia 1997). We are still far from being able to establish a global alternative theory to the current dominating framework that, ultimately, was generated with historical-culturalism. But I believe one head pursue in such a direction, using non-Aristotelian logics and mathematics as a guide. REFERENCES ARAÚJO A. C. 1998. O concheiro de Toledo (Louri-nha) no quadro das adaptares humanas do Pós-Gla-ciar no litoral da Estremadura. Revista Portuguesa de Arqueología 1(2): 20-38. BOGHOSSIAN P. 1997. O que o embuste de Sokal nos deve ensinar. Disputatio, vol. 2 (ed. Internet: purl. inesc.pt/pub/disputatio). CALADO M. 2001. Da Serra d'Ossa ao Guadiana. Um estudo de Pré-História regional, Lisboa, Instituto Portugués de Arqueologia. CARDOSO J. L. 2002. Pré-História de Portugal. Lisboa, Verbo. CHAITIN G. 1975. Randomness and Mathematical Proof. Scientific American, 232-n°5:47-52 (versao html: www.cs.auckland.ac.nz/CDMTCS/Chaitin). CRUZ A. R. (1997). Neolitizagao do Vale do Nabao: do Neolítico a Idade do Bronze. Tomar, ARKEOS 3, CEIPHAR. CRUZ A. R., OOSTERBEEK L. coord. 2000. Territó-rios, Mobilidade e Povoamento no Alto Ribatejo I -indústrias e ambientes. 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GONCALVES V. S. (ed.) 2001. Muitas antas, pouca gente - Actas do I Colóquio Internacional sobre Me-galitismo. 86 Archaeographic and conceptual advances in interpreting Iberian Neolithisation 2002. Lugares de povoamento das antigas sociedades camponesas entre o Guadiana e a Ribeira do Álamo (Reguengos de Monsaraz): um ponto da situagao em inicios de 2002. Revista Portuguesa de Arqueología 5(2): 153-189. GUILAINE J. 1996. La Neolithisation de la Méditérra-née Occidentale, In R. G. Cremonesi, J. Guilaine, J. L'Helgouac'h (eds.), The Neolithic in the Near East and Europe, Forlé, XIII International Congress of Prehistoric and Protohistpric Sciences: 53-68. JORGE S. O. 1990. Consolidado do sistema agro-pastoril. In J. Alargao (coord.), Nova Historia de Portugal, vol. I. Das origens d romanizando: 163-212. 1998. Domesticar a terra. Lisboa, Gradiva. OOSTERBEEK L. 1997. Echoes from the East: the western network. An insight to unequal and combined development, 7000-2000 BC. Londres, University of London, PhD. Dissertation (2 vols.) 1999. The Neolithisation of North Ribatejo (Portugal). Journal of Iberian Archaeology 1 (no prelo). SOARES J. 1997. A transigao para as formagoes so-ciais neolíticas na costa Sudoeste portuguesa. In O Neolítico atlántico e as orixes do megalitismo, Santiago de Compostela: 587-608. SOARES J., DA SILVA C. T. 2001. Protomegalitismo no Sul de Portugal: inaugurado das paisagens me-galíticas. In Gongalves V. S. (ed.), Muitas antas, pouca gente - Actas do I Coloquio Internacional sobre Megalitismo, Lisboa, Instituto Portugués de Arqueologia: 117-134. VICENT-GARCIA J. 1997. The Island Filter Model Revisited. In M. S. Balmuth A., Gilman L., Prados-Tor-reira (eds.), Encounters and Transformations. The archaeology of Iberia in transition: 1-13. ZILHAO J. 1992. Gruta do Caldeirdo. O Neolítico An-tigo, Lisboa, IPPAR. contents 87 UDK 903'12/'15(46)"633/634":314.18 Documenta Praehistorica XXXI Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Mary Jackes1, Christopher Meiklejohn2 1 Department of Anthropology, University of Alberta, Edmonton, Canada mjackes@ualberta.ca 2 Department of Anthropology, University of Winnipeg, Winnipeg, Canada c.meiklejohn@uwinnipeg.ca ABSTRACT - This paper focuses on the agricultural transition in Portugal and on demography across this transition, concentrating on two key skeletal samples, the Mesolithic shell midden of Cabego da Arruda and the Neolithic burial cave of Casa da Moura. It extends our previous work on the demography of the transition and the methodology surrounding its determination. We explain our method for determination of the number of individuals in samples where whole skeletons cannot be used. We then concentrate on the estimation of fertility, placing it within limits of biological feasibility, sample inadequacies, and vagaries of age assessment. From our analysis, which includes an examination of historical issues with the sites, we argue for regional population continuity between 8000 and 6000 calBP, and suggest that Neolithic life-ways slowly intensified, founded on important elements deriving from the late Mesolithic, with changes that included increased fertility through shortening of the birth interval. IZVLEČEK - V članku se osredotočamo na prehod v kmetovanje na Portugalskem in na demografijo pri tem prehodu, še posebej na dva ključna vzorca skeletov - mezolitsko najdišče školjčnih lupin Cabego da Arruda in neolitska jama s pokopi Casa da Moura. To je nadaljevanje naših dosedanjih raziskav demografije prehoda in s tem povezano metodologijo. V članku razložimo našo metodo za določevanje števila posameznikov v vzorcih, kjer ni mogoče uporabiti celih skeletov. Nato se osredotočimo na oceno rodnosti glede na biološko zmožnost, neustreznost vzorcev in glede na omejitve pri ocenah starosti. Na osnovi naših analiz, ki vključujejo tudi zgodovinske vidike raziskav najdišč, zagovarjamo regionalno kontinuiteto prebivalstva med 8000 in 6000 calBP. Menimo, da se je neolit-ski način življenja počasi intenziviral na temelju pomembnih elementov iz poznega mezolitika, spremembe pa so vključevale naraščanje rodnosti in skrajševanje časovnega razmika med rojstvi. KEY WORDS - Mesolithic; palaeodemography; human skeletons; Muge The dynamics of the agricultural transition constitutes one of the most debated areas of Holocene Old World archaeology (see e.g. Ammermann and Biagi 2003; Price 2000). In this paper we will focus on work in Europe and examine the use of human skeletal material, which is critical to any discussion on a demographic transition and population growth contemporaneous with the agricultural transition. Bocquet-Appel (2002) argues that there was a Meso-lithic/Neolithic transition in Europe entailing a major change in the nature of population growth. We will explore this concept using skeletal samples from Portugal that span the transition. In particular, we will investigate the large samples of apparently primary burials excavated at the Mesolithic midden sites of the Muge River valley, as compared with the equally large but quite differently interred Neolithic skeletal samples from sites such as the ossuary cave of Casa da Moura in the Estremadura. We will explore, in more depth than previously, the determination of numbers of individuals found within these 89 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn sites, an issue which is crucial to their use in demographic analyses. As part of this discussion we will use published and unpublished data to examine the history of excavation of the Muge sites, focussing on Cabego da Arruda, among the most complex of any Mesolithic site in Europe, with a history of multiple excavations going back to the 1860s. SKELETAL SAMPLES OF THE PORTUGUESE MESOLITHIC/NEOLITHIC TRANSITION AND THEIR CONTEXT - INTRODUCTION The sites that will be discussed in this paper in varying degrees of detail are in central and southern Portugal (Fig. 1). The two Mesolithic sites, Cabeço da Arruda (henceforth Arruda) and Moita do Sebastiâo (henceforth Moita), are near the exit of the River Muge into the Tagus, about 30 km northeast of the current Tagus estuary. These sites have had the most complex excavation histories of any European Mesolithic burial sites. First explored between 1863 and 1865 by A. F. Pereira da Costa and C. Ribeiro, they were excavated twice again in the 19th century, in 1880 by Ribeiro and again later in the 1880s by F. de Paula e Oliveira1. In the 20th century, excavations occurred in two phases. A. A. Mendes Corrêa excavated Arruda in 1937 with his collaborators, R. da Serpa Pinto, J. R. do Santos Junior and A. Ataide, following several years of excavation in the early 1930s at Cabeço da Amoreira. In 1951 the bulldozing of the Moita site led to intervention by Mendes Corrêa and excavation from 1952 to 1954 by J. Roche and O. da Veiga Ferreira. Following upon this, excavations were undertaken at Cabeço da Amoreira between 1958 and 1967 under the direction of Roche and Veiga Ferreira, and extended to Arruda in 1964 and 1965. Finally, new excavations at Amoreira have begun under the direction of J. M. Rolâo and M. Roksandic, with some section cleaning and stabilization at Arruda. Our primary discussion in this paper is of Arruda, while papers on Moita are in preparation (Alvim, Jackes in prep.; Jackes, Meiklejohn in prep.). The major Neolithic site is Casa da Moura, a burial cave in the Estremadura, a karstic region north of Lisbon. It was first excavated in the 1860's by Delgado (1867) and re-examined by L. G. Straus in the Fig. 1. Central and southern Portugal showing the location of a number of important Mesolithic and Neolithic sites. 1980's (Straus et al. 1988). Other sites noted in Figure 1 will be discussed where relevant. The three surviving midden sites of the lower Muge valley lie on either side of a broad area of marsh through which a channel for the river has been dredged (Fig. 2). Moita and Amoreira lie just over 1 km apart on the south side of the valley, with Ar-ruda just over 2 km to the northeast of Amoreira on the north side of the valley. Arruda lies on the edge of the valley flood plain and has been impacted by flooding, while Moita now lies under a rice processing installation2. Work in the 1950s and 1960s produced the first absolute dates for the Muge series, based on charcoal. These were from the Saclay laboratory, very early in the history of 14C dating, with standard errors of 300 to 350 years. At Moita they provided a date for the base of the sequence (layer II) of 7080 bp3 (Roche 1957). At Arruda they provided bracketing dates 1 See, e.g., Cardoso and Roläo 1999/2000, Newell et al. 1979 and Roche 1972. Roche was incorrect in stating that an 1892 excavation took place (Roche 1972b. 75). 2 The lower Muge Valley is now structured as paddies for the intensive cultivation of rice. Other shell middens were destroyed in the 19th century for the planting of vines. 3 Uncalibrated dates are expressed as bp, while calibrated dates are expressed as calBP. 90 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Muge River ' Fig. 2. The classic Muge Mesolithic sites (after Roche 1972.20.Fig. 2). The Muge is an area of marsh (stippled) through which a drainage canal has been dredged. for the base and top of the site of 6430 to 5150 bp (Roche 1965a; 1965b). At Amoreira there were also bracketing dates of 7030 to 6050 bp (ibid.). Any overall chronology of the sites based on these dates was enigmatic at best and none of these dates could be firmly linked to any of the human skeletal material. The best date for Moita was 7080±130 bp for basal breccia charcoal (H2119/1546: Roche, Veiga Ferreira 1972/73) and for Amoreira, also on charcoal, 7135±65 bp (Hv-1349: Soares, Cabral 1984; Kalb 1989). No good dates were available for Arruda. As part of our re-examination of the Muge skeletal series in the 1980s the authors, working with David Lubell, instituted a program of new AMS 14C dates directly on the human skeletal material (Lubell et al. 1994) to which new dates have been added, deriving for example from the most recent excavations at Arruda by Rolao and Roksandic (Roksandic in press). The overall results (Fig. 3) suggest a sequential chronology, though the actual occupation of the sites may overlap. Moita seems to be the earliest with dates covering the period 7240 to 6810 bp. Amoreira with dates from 6630 to 6550 bp seems younger but needs further work. Arruda seems to fit in between, with dates of 7040 to 6360 bp. The more completely dated sites suggest an approximate 400 year time span for the occupation of Moita and a slightly longer 600 years for the occupation at Arruda. The possible sequential occupation of these sites is important in terms of other data that suggest differences between the sites, both in terms of the environment and human biology (for biological variability see Jackes, Lubell 1999). There may be evidence of a change in patterns of environmental exploitation (Fig. 4, Lentacker 1991). The graphed data are for terrestrial herbivores on the three Muge sites, derived from the representation of the relevant taxa4. The frequency of lago-morphs apparently increases between Moita and the later sites. Suids, cervids and bovids all decrease, which could involve several variables including environment and access to animals within the effective catchment zone of the sites. Some specific non-food related faunal elements may provide other clues: red squirrel (Sciurus vulgaris) bones at Arruda indicates the presence of pine forest, as opposed to the current dominance of oak (Antunes 1985). Support for increased pine in the vicinity around 7500 calBP comes from the work of van der Schriek (in prep.; van der Schriek et al. 2003), which also documents this period as the time of maximum tidewater influence in the Muge. Thus, there were environmental changes over what appears to be a quite restricted time period of the Mesolithic occupation at Muge. Resource changes would have been mediated especially by the rise and fall of the Holocene sea level resulting in a rise and fall of the important mollus-can dietary sources, especially Scrobicularia plana. While faunal data may reflect a shift in diet within the period of occupation at the Muge midden complex, we have independently studied this through use of stable isotope determinations of 13C and 15N (Lubell et al. 1994). Results for Moita and Arruda, together with other Mesolithic individuals, and a Neolithic series, are seen in Figure 5. The results show a trend away from marine dietary elements towards terrestrial elements. As a series, Moita appears to be more marine than Arruda and both appear to be more marine based than the majority of the Neolithic individuals. There is no major divide in the sequence comparable to the marked shift documented for Danish material by Tauber (1981; see also Meik- 4 Material is from 1930s excavations at Arruda and Amoreira, but material for Moita may be from the 1960s (Lentaker pers. comm. 8.iii.2004), so there are certainly sampling problems related to the multiple excavations. A rereading of multiple reports on Moita excavations suggests the possibility that the layers containing mammalian bone were removed by bulldozers prior to excavation at Moita in the 1950s. 91 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn lejohn et al. 1998). However, the full situation is quite complicated when sample variation and outliers are examined. How do we explain outliers? Among the Mesolithic individuals we have one with an extremely high 515N value (>16), Samouquiera H2, who consisted only of arms when excavated (Lubell, Jackes 1985). The individual showed bilateral arthritis in wrists and hands, especially marked on the right side. The body was buried close to Samouqu-eira H1 who had sustained a major fracture of the right humerus leading to an open infected wound and also had an infected wound of the right foot. Both individuals therefore could be suggested to have disabling trauma, a consequence of which is likely to be a way of life and a diet different from their Mesolithic fellows. In addition, there may be a form of burial different from that for able-bodied people. In the case of Samou-queira, we seem to have people who, in the months before their deaths, were separated from the rest of the population. No other human remains were found among the 286 faunal bones5 (mostly Oryctolagus cunniculus) scattered among the marine bivalves, gastropods and fish covering this cliff-top site. Fig. 3. Calibrated AMS14C dates directly on the human skeletal material ^Lubell et al. 1994). New dates, identified as "top" and "base", from recent excavations at Amoreira and Arruda by Rolao and Roksandic ^Roksandic in press). 1 and 2 standard deviations are shown beneath the probability curves fBronk Ramsay 2002). In the Neolithic sample we have an individual who shows the most extreme marine shift in 513C values in our sample. The individual, who can be said to be maintaining a Mesolithic style diet, is our only analyzed individual from the Melides cave of Lagares, demonstrating how much more work needs to be done before we really understand the Mesolithic/ Neolithic transition. This individual also has a high 515N content in the single stray rib analyzed6. One Fig. 4. Percentage representation among selected terrestrial mammals in the Muge collections of the Sala de Arqueologia e Pré-História Mendes Correa Museu de Historia Natural, Faculdade de Ciencias Univer-sidade do Porto (Lentaker 1991.254-255). The Moita material is, however, in the museum of the Servidos Geológicos de Portugal. 5 The exact number provided by Lentacker (pers. comm. 19. IX. 1986). 6 Since the site was an ossuary cave of disarticulated bone, we can say nothing more about this individual. Further analyses are now being undertaken on material from this cave. 92 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Fig. 5. Stable isotope values for Portugal. "Other Mesolithic" sites refers to Amoreira and to Samo-uqueira in the outlier position at the extreme marine pole of the diagram. Arruda individual (N) is an outlier for the Arruda stable isotope distribution (Fig. 6), with a more marine based diet, and we know that he is exceptional for the Mesolithic population, with spinal changes that included osteoporotic collapse of T.10 and collapse and fusion of L.1 and L.2. In the discussion above we proposed an initial interpretation from Figure 5 of a gradual shift from a marine to a terrestrial based diet. The conclusion is problematic when outliers are considered and especially when the dates for specific individuals are examined from the site of Arruda (Fig. 6). At the Neolithic "pole" to the left, marked by the most terrestrial shift, are Arruda A and D, individuals falling within the middle of the dated range for Arruda specimens (Fig. 7: individuals with probability ranges in grey)7. At the opposite Mesolithic "pole", the most marine-shifted, are Arruda N and an undated sample from 20th century excavations now being analyzed by Eugenia Cunha, University of Coimbra. Interestingly, Arruda N provided the youngest date in our Arruda time series at 6360 bp. As a result, there is evidence contrary to a clear temporal trend within Arruda, the site which may provide our longest occupation span. On the other hand, a possible interpretation of Arruda N stable isotopes would focus Fig. 6. Arruda stable isotopes. The two skeletons with "e" designations are undated individuals now being studied at the University of Coimbra. The skeletons labelled "top" and "base" are from recent work at Arruda by Rolao and Roksandic (Roksandic in pressj. on the date as illustrating a trend towards the reduction of tidewater influence in the Muge, and thus a reduction of estuarine resources. There may have been pressures for seasonal travel far down the Ta-gus River. This interpretation of Arruda N depends on a manipulation of the date of this individual. Critical to the entire question of Muge Mesolithic dating is whether the reservoir effect is skewing the dates. The date alteration for a 100 percent marine diet entails an age offset of 253±29 years for Portugal (Monge Soares 1993). The results of calibration with a reservoir effect correction estimated from the stable isotope values for each individual are seen in Figure 8. At the top of the diagram we have dates estimated for individuals (like Arruda N) with stable isotope values indicating a large marine component in the diet. At Fig. 7. Arruda dates (lubell et al. 1994; Roksandic in pressj. The probability ranges in grey are individuals with low &3C values. 7 A single further Arruda date with -19 813C has been published (Cunha et al. 2003.185) which suggests that this pattern was established 600-800 years earlier, although the other Muge dates also published here are more congruent with previous information. 93 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn the bottom are dates calibrated without a marine shift, because the dated samples are charcoal. Thus, from bottom to top of the diagram, we have increasing degrees of marine correction based on stable isotope figures, within the four groupings, showing no reservoir effect and marine corrections for 25 percent, 50 percent and 75 percent marine diet respectively (these are no more than rough estimates of the percentage of marine dietary component). The dates on human bone are from our own database, with the analyses undertaken by Henry Schwarcz (McMaster University) and by Isotrace (University of Toronto). No early Saclay dates are shown. It is of interest that, using reservoir effect corrections, Arruda N (together with Samouqueira, T0-130 6370+70 bp) is found to be a little younger than Mesolithic dates from Vid-igal (Gx-14557 6030+180 bp charcoal) and Fiais (ICEN-141 6180+110 bp faunal bone), and equivalent in age to TO-953 (5990±60 bp, a human bone date from Casa da Moura), when the latter is calibrated with a 25 percent marine correction8. All these five dates calibrate as Moita 6810±70BP Arruda 6360±80BP Moita 7240±70BP Moita 7200±70BP Moita 7180+70BP Moita 7160+80BP Arruda (base) 7040±60BP Arruda 6990±110BP Arruda 6960±70BP Arruda top 6620+60BP Amoreira base 6630±60BP Arruda 6970±60BP Arruda 6780±80BP Amoreira top 6550±70BP Moita 7080+130BP Amoreira 6430±65BP ■ ■ ■ ■ _L_ _1_ JL _1_ Delta R 253+29 75% 75% 50% 50% 50% 50% 50% 50% 50% 50% 50% 25% 25% 25% 0% 0% j_I_I_I_I_I_ 9000CalBP 8500CalBP 8000CalBP 7500CalBP 7000CalBP 6500CalBP SOOOCalBP Fig. 8. Human bone from Muge Mesolithic middens with dates recalibrated by mixing curves based on estimates from the stable isotope data for the same individuals. With 50% the intcal 98 and marine 98 curves are mixed equally. The material with 0% marine resources considered in the date calibration are charcoal samples: Moita H2119/ 1546 basal breccia level (Roche, Veiga Ferreira 1972/73); Amoreira Hv-1349, basal level 39 (Soares, Cabral 1984; Kalb 1989). younger than the earliest Portuguese Neolithic date, 0xa-1033 (6130+90 bp on Ovis bone from Caldeirao). The conclusion is that an assumed gap in time and stable isotope values between the Mesolithic and Neolithic in Portugal may be an artifact derived from incomplete analyses. from the site of Arruda be used to develop a method for examination of the demography of the Me-solithic/Neolithic transition? We look at the history of the site and then at the extant skeletal sample that we have been working with for twenty years. THE ARRUDA SKELETAL SAMPLE AS A BASE FOR DISCUSSION OF THE MESOLITHIC/NEOLI-THIC TRANSITION With the above discussion demonstrating Mesoli-thic heterogeneity and the difficulty of pinpointing a "moment of transition" to the Neolithic, we turn to the more specific question raised at the beginning of the paper, can the human skeletal data The site of Arruda is a large, roughly oval, midden on the north side of Muge River valley. At the edge of the valley flood plain, it was 95 by 40 m, with a maximum depth of deposits of 5 m (Pereira da Costa 1865) or 100 by 60 m, with about 7 m depth of deposit (Ribeiro 1880). The excavations by Pereira da Costa in 1863-1864, and by Roche and Veiga Ferreira in 1964 and 1965, identified four Mesolithic phases below the plough zone and disturbed soil, from top to bottom, levels A to D. Only half the mid- 8 Information on radiocarbon dates cited can be found at http://intarch.ac.uk/antiquity/jackes/dates.html 94 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Fig. 9. Plan of Arruda, illustrating that about half of the midden has been excavated (modified after Cardoso, Rolao 1999/2000. Fig. 56). den has been excavated to date (Fig. 9), and the skeletons from that half have an extremely convoluted excavation and curation history. tury9. However, even in the late 1920s Vallois could not find the first skull, that of a male, from the 1860s excavations, and considered it likely that it was already lost in the 1880s (Vallois 1930.353). He found only four other Ar-ruda skulls in the Zoological Museum (ibid. 356) and it appears that he found no post-cranial remains whatsoever. A number of the finds were illustrated in the original publication (Pereira da Costa 1865) and we can confirm that the illustrated mandibles are not now in the Ser-viços Geológicos museum (Fig. 11). Studies of Arruda dentitions used only material in the Serviços Geológicos museum (Sueiro, Frazao 1959; LeFèvre 1972)™. The initial excavation of the site, by F.A. Pereira da Costa of the Servigos Geológicos de Portugal, followed the discovery of several shell middens along the Muge by Carlos Ribeiro in 1863. This excavation apparently unearthed around 45 individuals mostly recovered from the base of the site in level D (Pereira da Costa 1865.7,13) (Fig. 10). It appears that the material from the original excavations was destroyed by fire in the last quarter of the 20th cen- There is then a gap of fifteen years until the reopening of the site in 1880 associated with the International Prehistoric Anthropology and Archaeology Congress that was held in Lisbon in that year. Ribeiro opened up a further area of the site in order to provide a field trip for attendees at the Congress. This excavation again made it clear that the burials were not randomly distributed across the site (Fig. 12) but were grouped in the southwest part of the mound (Paula e Oliviera 1889.74). The skeletal material again came from a single level, presumably Fig. 10. Cross section of1865 Arruda excavation showing localization of skeletons in one section of the basal layer of the midden - layer D on the lower right. The section goes from the north west (left) to the south east (right) and was first published (without a scale) by Pereira da Costa (1865.6.Fig. 2). 9 The material was stored at the Escola Politécnica which became the Faculty of Sciences of the University of Lisbon. On 18th March, 1978 the Museu e Laboratório Zoológico e Antropológico da Universidade de Lisboa (Museu Bocage) was destroyed by fire. 10 This was true even though Sueiro had assisted Vallois in searching for material at the Faculty of Sciences museum where he worked in the 1920s (Vallois 1930.339). 95 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn the same level as the material recovered in 1865 (Fig.13, level D). In addition, Ribeiro suggested that the skeletons were roughly aligned (Ribeiro 1880.286). Pereira da Costa (1865.13) had in fact suggested that the skulls were oriented to the NW). The number of skeletons recovered at Arruda in 1880 is unclear: over 120 individuals were said to have been recovered jointly from Arruda and Moita (Ribeiro 1880. 285). Again in the mid 1880s more excavations were undertaken, this time by Francisco de Paula e Oliviera, Ribeiro having died in November 1882. Further remains were recovered, in June 1884 "13 human skeletons, some in truth very damaged, of individuals of various ages", and in June 1885 "the remains of 39 individuals for the most part in a very good state of preservation" Fig. 12. After a plot by Carlos Ribeiro of the Arruda midden excavations in 1880. We are shown the locations of skeletons among the piles of back dirt. Another plot dated 15th April, 1880 detailing the location of 15 skeletons makes it clear that the points marking the skeletal finds here are extremely approximate. This and a number of other records of the 1880 excavations were found in the archives at Servidos Geológicos de Portugal and copied by David Lubell, 20th June 1989. It is believed that this material has now been deposited in the archives of Instituto Geológico e Min-eiro, but has not been accessioned ^Pedro Alvim pers. comm. 13. II. 2004). Fig. 11. Some of the Arruda skeletal material excavated in 1865 (selections from Plate I and Plate II Pereira da Costa 1865). The illustrated specimens are distinctive so that it can be confirmed that they are now lost. (Paula e Oliviera 1889. 59). However, it is very likely that none of the 1885 skeletons came from Arruda. Paula e Oliviera indicated that "I barely got one skeleton in bad shape" (Paula e Oliviera 1889. 59) from Arruda11. Later excavations also recovered far fewer remains. The remains associated with the excavations of the 1930s were deposited in Porto and when examined by the authors were not in a condition to permit study. Most were removed en bloc and had not been cleaned and prepared, but original reports suggested 11 individuals had been excavated. Roche and Veiga Ferreira recovered only 13 graves in 1964 and 1965 and the finds have not been studied. As a result, any discussion of the human skeletal material from Arruda is largely concerned with finds recovered in the 1880s. In the late nineteenth century, it was believed that the Arruda skeletons stored in the Muge collection in Lisbon numbered no more than 41 individuals (Hervé 1899. 267). 11 A letter dated 4th June 1885 from Paula e Oliviera to Nery Delgado indicates that all the human material excavated in 1885 is likely to have come from Moita (Alvim pers. comm. 13.II.2004), neither Arruda nor Amoreira having produced results. For further discussion see Alvim and Jackes in prep. 96 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal The study of Arruda has presented logistical problems for the authors of this paper. Neither the full site nor the associated skeletal remains have ever been published in a single definitive study comparable to that of Moita (Ferembach 1974; Roche 1972). Meiklejohn first inventoried the collection in 1969 as part of an earlier study (Meiklejohn 1974). We both studied the material in 1985, and Jackes reexamined the collection during work at the Servigos Geológicos that extended from 1986 to 1989. As part of the research reported here we have recently spent 3 months in a re-examination of the mandibles, using photographs taken by the two of us, records of detailed observations and measurements, radiographs and field notes. The major problem is that, although the material has been consistently curated in the same facility at the museum of the Servigos Geológicos in Lisbon, the material has been mixed. Extensive examination of the historical records shows three different potential bases for this. The earliest may relate to the original conditions of burial. Perhaps these were not always the single inhumation burials that are usually inferred, a question raised in the early publications, but it is most likely that the grouping of burials led to disturbance of earlier by later inhumations, to the extent that the original report spoke of skeletal elements found "pell-mell" and "in the most bizarre positions imaginable" (Pereira da Costa 1865.15). A second potential source of mixing is at the original time of excavation and subsequent deposition in museums. The 1880 excavations involved the exposure of the burials considerably prior to the International Congress, and participants at the Congress were permitted full access to the burials during the field trip, so mixture may have occurred at that time. The materials excavated in the 1880s were then subject to over 120 years of curation under circumstances such that mixture of material was almost inevitable. Individual bones were never labelled and the open drawer system (in place until we reorganized the material in closed boxes from 1984 to 1986) invited misplacement of bone. We thus have a situation where the material is curated as individual inhumations but many of these are not "individ- uals". One "individual" has 66 metatarsals, including 13 left second metatarsals and another includes nine right and six left clavicles12. Yet a third ("individual" M) has 41 separate maxillary and mandibular fragments actually representing 21 separate individuals. The photographs from Arruda in 1880 (e.g. Fig. 13) give a reasonable sense of the distribution of the finds within a single level and they also help us understand that there were problems made obvious by the following quotations: "One sees also bones here and there, placed in confused heaps as if they had been gathered together once the flesh was gone; but in the majority of cases they are in their natural articulations..." (Cartailhac 1886.57) and "Because the bones were generally grouped according to their natural articulations, it is possible, most often, to collect separately those of each individual..." (Paula e Oliviera 1889.72; our emphasis). The problems can also be seen in the plots from the 1964 excavation of Roche and Veiga Ferreira (Fig. 14). Whether the skeletons numbered 6, 7 and 9 in this diagram represent two or three people could only be confirmed by detailed study. The suite of problems stemming from the history of the site can be summarized as follows: © In the 1860s it was already obvious that there were "bones not belonging to the skeletons" (Pereira da Costa 1865.16,18) and that the complete ske- Fig. 13. One of two photographs of the 1880 Arruda skeletons known from various publications. This photograph appeared in 1908 fAnon. 1908). The view is towards the south east along the excavation face and across the skeletons marked schematically by dots in Figure 12. 12 These were unnumbered individuals, called TO and SH by our project. 97 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn letons had, mixed among them, other bones (ibid. 18). Since no material from the 1860s is extant, we can no longer judge the extent to which material was selectively retained. © However, it is clear from the descriptions that not all bones were kept in the 1880s: "...the number of human skeletons that were recovered, even leaving aside the bones which were abandoned because of their bad condition, is truly considerable." (Paula e Oliviera 1889.71, our emphasis). © At the time of the study by Vallois there were 42 drawers of Arruda material in the Serviços Geológicos museum (these remained until the early 1980s), but parts of two or three individuals were found in some drawers (Vallois 1930). Mixing was already a problem. Vallois also stated that he could not find a skull, a female, which had been deposited in the Serviços Geológicos museum. Vallois saw 20 to 25 Arruda skulls and some further cranial fragments (ibid. 340). He also studied some postcranial material, writing that he hoped someone would undertake the work of trying to redress the errors and reconstruct the bones (ibid. 365). Vallois considered that there was no possibility of matching skulls with postcrania (ibid. 364). O The material recovered in the excavations of the 1930s was sent to the Instituto de Antropologia Men-des Corrêa, Universidade do Porto. We attempted, independently, to inventory these materials: Meikle-john in 1969 and Jackes in 1984. Although 10 or 11 individuals were said to be present (Cardoso, Rolao 1999/2000. 172-179), fire and subsequent flooding in 1974 (Huet Baçelar pers. comm.: August 1984) have complicated matters. When inventoried in 1984, it was clear that labels had been lost: most material at the Mendes Corrêa Institute was from Moita so that it could be checked against an earlier Moita inventory (Ferembach 1974), and there was obvious confusion after the fire. Of four Arruda indi- Fig. 14. After a plot from the 1964 Arruda excavation of Roche and Veiga Ferreira (Cardoso, Rolao 1999/2000.Fig. 57:227). viduals inventoried in 1969, one child from 193313 and three adults from 1937 can be clearly recognized in the 1984 inventory. In 1969 the adults had had skulls and mandibles: the skulls and mandibles were not found in 1984. In addition, other material was found with Arruda labels in 1984, including a child aged about 7 and a child aged about 13, both with dentition. Other material was unlabelled, and it could have come from either Arruda or Amoreira14. © In 1964 and 1965 Roche and Veiga Ferreira excavated 13 "skeletons", apparently from the basal levels of Arruda (Newell et al. 1979, based on conversations with Roche in Paris in 1978). These had been placed in a rented storeroom separate from the Servidos Geológicos premises, and there was apparently no recollection of this, either in 1969 or in the period 1983-1989. They were rediscovered in 2000, and therefore have not been examined in detail15. © By the 1980's, when we began our work at the Servidos Geológicos, there was obvious mixing among individuals in the drawers. There was also loss of identification due to mixture and loss of la-bels16. In some cases material from a single individual had been dispersed, some elements being kept 13 A limited amount of work was done at Arruda in 1933 (Cardoso, Rolao 1999/2000.170). 14 Lentacker (pers. comm. 8.111.2004) confirms that problems caused by the fire were exacerbated when some of the faunal collection labels were destroyed by the water used to extinguish the fire. Meiklejohn worked on human material in a storage area which was later damaged by the fire. By 1984 this material was widely dispersed throughout the building. 15 All dental elements were photographed in detail by David Lubell (23 April, 2002). 16 Individual bones were never labelled with specimen numbers. Some, but not all, crania and mandibles were labelled. Detailed notes kept by the authors allowed us to track mixing which occurred during the visits of one or two other researchers even within the short period 1984-1986. Further mixing had occurred by April, 2002 (Lubellpers. comm.). 98 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal in glass cases for display. The absence of any previously published inventory complicates any attempt to provide a catalogue raisonée. However, comparison with the similar problems in the Moita collection is illuminating. Ferembach prepared an apparently complete inventory of Moita prior to 1965 (Ferembach 1974). The same material was independently inventoried by Meiklejohn in 1969, without knowledge of Ferembach's results. When both of us did a third inventory in 1984 and 1985, the discrepancies became apparent. While some of the descriptions were in agreement for all three inventories, all other possible agreements and discrepancies were observed, the most discrepant being totally different number associations in the three inventories. In addition it became clear that no inventory prior to 1984 had involved full cleaning of the material. We cleaned material in 1984 and 1985 that could not previously have been inventoried accurately. An example of this can be seen in the reported number of Moita teeth: Ferembach (1974) reports only 428 teeth, whereas preliminary estimates from the inventory of 1984 and 1985 list 889 teeth (Meiklejohn et al. 1988; Meiklejohn, Zvelebil 1991). ARRUDA AND CASA DA MOURA: HOW CAN WE COMPARE THEM? In studying the Portuguese Mesolithic/Neolithic transition we must compare Casa da Moura, a Neolithic ossuary burial cave (by definition a site with disarticulated and mixed individuals), with a Mesolithic site, traditionally regarded as having individual in-flesh burials. Even without the problems of Arruda, for which questions surround the burial practices, the excavations and the post-excavation history of the material, we would need careful consideration of methods in dealing with samples for demographic analysis. This is the core problem set up in the introduction to the paper and we will use mandibular counts as a basis for discussion of demographic questions at the Mesolithic to Neolithic transition. Palaeodemography demands exceptional care. In making statements based on inadequate and possibly incomplete samples, covering periods of time which are, at best, partially defined and generally too long for satisfactory demographic study, anything less than extreme caution is injudicious. To compare skeletal samples from different sites, it is necessary to use comparable methods of analysis for each site; methods of calculating the numbers of individuals must be comparable; methods of age assessment of both adults and subadults must be comparable, because different methods give different results (Jackes 1985). Consistency is critical. Taphonomic studies show that mandibles provide the highest number of elements in most skeletal collections, whether human or non-human. Use of mandibles allows for the maximum estimate of numbers in a site, different in many ways from the "minimum number of individuals" (MNl). Mandibles are more sensitive to details than other skeletal elements, carrying a great deal of information, and the use of mandibles also allows refitting even when clean re-constructable breaks are absent. Delgado (1867.46), in writing about Casa da Moura, recognized that the number of mandibles would give a much higher count of individuals than would the number of skulls, whole or fragmented, and especially the number of maxillae. But in sites where teeth are not retained in the alveoli, it is necessary to enquire also: 1. whether mandibular teeth are more often retained in the jaws and 2. whether mandibular teeth are more likely to be represented in the deposits than maxillary teeth, whether in situ in alveoli or loose. Neolithic sites contain many loose teeth and it becomes clear that more teeth are retained in the mandibles than in the maxillae. Figure 15, in which loose teeth are plotted as a percentage of total teeth, shows that fewer mandibular teeth are found loose in all tooth classes. As a result, this means that the lower teeth can be studied in more Fig. 15. Percent of loose teeth in Casa da Moura, comparison of maxillary and mandibular dentitions (after Jackes, Lubell 1995.Fig. 8a). 99 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn detail, that their identification is more certain, and that fewer will be left unrecov-ered from the back dirt piles of an excavation. In fact, Delgado clearly stated that "maxillae are very rare while on the contrary mandibles are very abundant, and above all mandibular teeth..." (1867.46) and drew attention to parallel findings by Lartet with regard to non-human remains at Aurignac. This pattern is now well documented in vertebrate taphonomy. Furthermore, we have concentrated on molar teeth because, in Neolithic sites, up to 30 percent more molars are preserved than the next most common tooth types (premolars and canines). This is true of other Portuguese Neolithic sites that we have studied, besides Casa da Moura (and see e.g. Jackes, Lubell 1995. Fig 9 for comparison with a site studied independently, though using the same dental identification methodology). Figure 16 shows the ratio of the observed to the expected number of teeth based on the MNI for Casa da Moura. If all teeth for the total MNI were present, the ratio shown on the y axis would be 1.0: the second mandibular molar representation approaches an observed versus expected ratio of 1.0. Figure 16 reminds us that we need to look at more than the intact teeth that have been recovered and Fig. 17. Classic MNI study of Arruda mandibular sockets allows us to examine not just intact teeth, but also antemor-tem tooth loss and postmortem tooth loss. MNI based on Arruda adult mandibles in the Servidos Geológicos, Lisbon 1984-1989. Fig. 16. Preservation of information on permanent mandibular teeth at Casa da Moura (after Jackes, Lubell 1995.Fig. 10;. thus can be directly studied. We need to consider teeth that have been lost pre-mortem, from pathology or accident17; thus, the more alveolar sockets, the better. Unfortunately, such an approach means that the estimated number of older adults based on a sample partially made up of loose teeth will always be slightly wrong. The estimate of the ratio of sub-adults to adults may be too high for the Neolithic sites with many loose teeth, because information on premortem tooth loss may be gone. This must be emphasised - it is very possible that the number of older adults in Neolithic sites will be underestimated and the effect of this will be to give an apparent increase to the rate of fertility in the Neolithic in comparison with the Mesolithic. For Casa da Moura we obtain an MNI of 302 individuals with adult molars, derived from both the right lower M1 and the left lower M2. This is based on teeth with root development at least half completed or teeth fully erupted. Figure 17 provides a classic MNI type study for Arruda. This figure illustrates sockets so that we can examine not just intact teeth, but also both antemortem and postmortem tooth loss (in this case loose teeth are not involved, so that empty sockets can be taken into account). We can immediately see that the 42 skeletons that were assessed as the total number of all ages from infants to adults between 1880 and the late 1920s when Vallois (1930) looked at them, can- 17 Naturally, sockets that have lost teeth postmortem cannot be counted, since the shed teeth will be present in the deposits and must be assumed to have been counted. 100 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal not encompass the full number of individuals represented in the Servigos Geológicos museum. The figure clearly indicates that the MNI for adults alone must be around 55, based on the value for RMi. However, the use of mandibles allows one to go beyond the classic MNI count for a site, since MNI depends on the side with the highest count. Our results are based on the reconciliation of three different inventories undertaken by the two of us, together and independently, from 1984 to 1989. Our records also include photographs, details of tooth status, attrition, pathology, measurements, notes and reviews of the refitting of mandibular fragments found in separate drawers and glass cases. We have obtained a remarkably consistent picture regarding the representation of sides and tooth types, based on 85 mandibular fragments aged 15 and above (including intact and fractured teeth, empty sockets, cases of premortem tooth loss and agenesis). And the use of mandibles clearly produces a result that is higher than the just derived MNI of 55 adults (Fig. 17). Primary work had in fact already shown us that 55 was not the maximum number of adult individuals. In 1986, 62 mandibles of individuals judged to be adults over age 15 were seriated (Figs. 18a, b, c). Furthermore, there were at least 8 other mandibles in the collection, mostly associated with skulls in the display cases in the museum. Of those under 15 years of age, 25 were initially seriated (Fig. 19), to which six were added from among the material on display in the museum. The estimate of subadults has some questionable individuals - perinatal infants who are often represented in the collection by long bones rather than mandibles. Our methodology takes account of these infants despite the absence of mandibles. But, in fact, the Fig. 19. Seriation of subadults based on eruption sequence and attrition. Fig. 18 a, b, c. Seriation of Arruda mandibles 15 years of age and older, based primarily on attrition with attention to pathology and preservation. This allowed reconstruction of separated mandibular fragments (some juveniles are shown in the centre of the images). demographic method we use ignores children under 5, because infants and young children are markedly under-represented in Neolithic skeletal collections, and are generally poorly preserved. Thus the uncertainty surrounding young children is not critical. The seriation of mandibular secondary teeth (Figs. 18 and 19) was based on observation of wear of the three lower molars, with secondary consideration of more anterior teeth. The initial seriation was visual, and undertaken by several people over a number of days, the placement of each fragment 101 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn being discussed. The same process had been previously undertaken on Moita adult mandibles. Arru-da wear seems slightly reduced compared to what we had observed in the Moita series, and the Casa da Moura attrition is reduced from Arruda (see e.g. Lubell et al. 1994). However, the same sequence of attrition stages can be used: it covers eight wear levels, from 1, where the molar tooth has only just come into occlusion, to 8, with a rim on less than three sides, or all enamel removed and wear progressing down onto the tooth root (see Lubell et al. 1989for details). Because Casa da Moura wear is slower than in the Mesolithic, more attention was paid to variations within wear levels. For example, wear level 3 lasted longer within a person's adult life, and it was possible to discern gradations within level 3 that were not obvious in the Mesolithic, especially with Moita (Jackes 1992). Finally, the Arruda subadults were seriated separately (Fig. 19)18. The seriation process provided other benefits. Some identification problems were sorted out. In 1986 the process allowed the refitting of nine mandibles across drawers, that is, two or three fragments of each of nine mandibles were found dispersed over separate drawers. The drawer with label "M" was particularly problematic. It contained 13 maxilla fragments, 21 mandibular fragments and 27 loose teeth in 1984. There were actually 21 individuals represented by the M mandibular fragments. The R series identified and reported by LeFevre (1972) remains unidentifiable, but may have included material now labelled "M". As noted above it was necessary to add further individuals to the visual seri-ation. These included mandibles in the display cases in Lisbon that could not be removed for study with the seriated specimens. Post facto seriation was possible though a variety of means that included photographs, measurements of the cemento-enamel junction height above the alveolar margin, and attrition scores. To the mandibles on museum display we can now add the material excavated by Roche and Veiga Ferreira in 1964, stored away and apparently forgotten. None of it was available in 1969 or in the 1980s. The dentitions were photographed by David Lubell and from those photographs attrition and status can be accurately recorded, at least to the level of comparison with material previously studied (Fig. 20). None of the 1964 mandibles match with any of the 1880s mandibles. This material represents eight new individuals, four under 18 and four over 18. Veiga Ferreira had actually plotted 13 individuals (Cardoso, Rolao 1999/ 2000.Fig. 57:227), but half of them were incomplete, so it is not surprising that we do not have 13 full individuals. The age of subadults is both very important and problematic. In the demographic approach used, it is important that we know which individuals are under 5 and which are 5 and over. Radiographs help with the question but a complete reassessment of dental age in Mesolithic and Neolithic Portuguese children is being undertaken because there are some questions about the timing of eruption sequence events. Figure 21 shows the type of information used in this study. Arruda M (41) is probably under 5 years of age, with the adult first molar unerupted, and the second premolar (P4) crown not yet visible below the 2nd deciduous molar. In Arruda 176, already 5 years of age, the first molar is advancing towards eruption, the premolar crowns are apparent, the second molar is forming, and the roots of the central incisors are developing. We arrive at a maximum estimate of 71 adults over 15 years of age present in 1984-1989 in the collection of the Servidos Geológicos, Lisbon. Adding sub-adults and the eight newly found individuals recovered from storage in 2000, the total is 105, based on mandibles. Fig. 20. Examples of mandibles from the 1964 Arruda excavations now in the Serviços Geológicos, Lisbon: Sk 17 8.2.311 on the right, Sk 18 on the left. Detailed colour photography (David Lubell) allows confirmation that none of this material was in the collections in the 1980s. 18 Examine the child still partially en bloc: in a North American site the interpretation would be that secondary bundle burials were present. 102 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal Arruda M(41) left K^fc 1 Arruda 176 Fig. 21. Radiographs of juvenile dentitions: Arruda 176 (x-ray Sin-tra 90-2.VIII.86) and Arruda M(41) (x-ray Sintra PMD.1-5.XI.85). Our sample is shown in Table 1, with totals of 77 for Moita, 105 for Arruda and 340 for Casa da Moura. The previous publication of Casa da Moura (Meikle-john et al. 1997) was based on an MNI of the loose right lower molars. Here we include a more complete set of data, including loose and in situ right lower molars, together with correction for premortem tooth loss (Jackes 1998; Arnaiz-Villena, Lubell 2000). The Moita sample includes those mandibles inventoried in Porto in 1984. There were a number of very young children in the Porto collection: the fact that they could not be seriated visually with the other Moita material is less important since our methodology ignores those under 5 years of age19. COMPARING ARRUDA, MOITA AND CASA DA MOURA The results of our study of the mandibles from Arruda, Moita, and Casa da Moura (Fig. 22) have implications for research on the demography of the Mesolithic/Neolithic transition. In order to provide a context, we have a large database of archaeological sites that have sample sizes of at least 10020. To that we have added historical data, for example some of the excellent French and French Canadian historical demographers' analyses of parish records (e.g. Char-bonneau 1970), allowing for an understanding of the biological realities underlying demographic data -something that has not always been considered by palaeodemographers (Jackes 1994). The plotted variables are the mean subadult mortality quotient (probability of death age 5-19, MCM or mean childhood mortality) and the ratio of children between 5 and 15 years to adults 25 and over. This approach to palaeodemography, the ratio of children to adults, was first suggested by Angel (1969), and has been systematized over a number of years through the work of Bocquet-Appel and Masset (e.g. Bo-cquet and Masset 1977). We use Bocquet-Appel's index of juvenility, which we term the J:A. For further discussion of the approach see Jackes (e.g. 1992; 2000; Meiklejohn et al. 1997). To provide further external control we have used the model data of Coale and Demeny (1983) and the United Nations (1982). These data are marked on Figure 22 as representing populations that are Age Moita Arruda Casa Categories da Moura 0-4 14 17 42 5-9 6 9 31 10-14 1 5 33 15-19 3 4 18 20-24 8 8 64 25+ 45 62 152 Total 77 105 340 Tab. 1. Demographic data used in the analysis: age at death distributions. 19 Note that the Arruda material that was in the Mendes Correa Institute in Porto, now being studied by Eugenia Cunha at the Institute of Anthropology, University of Coimbra, is not included. This is because of questions arising from differences between the inventories of 1969 (Meiklejohn) and 1984 (Jackes and Huet Bagelar) and on what was destroyed in the 1974 fire/flood. A complete reassessment of Moita material is now being undertaken (Jackes and Meiklejohn in prep.), and it is to be noted that our publications on Moita have sample sizes varying from 77 to 79 in advance of this reassessment. 20 The Iron Gorge (Djerdap) samples of Jackes et al. in press are not included. 103 Mary Jackes, Christopher Meiklejohn stationary, increasing or decreasing. The archaeological and historical data fall comfortably close to the model data: in those cases where the archaeological sites fall far from the expected, we can suspect or demonstrate sample problems (biases which might result from site chronology questions, age assessment error, partial excavation, preferential burial etc.). The diagram includes the lull curve for populations that fall within the limits of reasonable demographic interpretation. As discussed elsewhere (Jackes 1994), the J:A ratio axis also provides a proxy measure for fertility. Populations at the upper right hand corner of Figure 22 would represent some of the highest recorded examples of natural human fertility. Some rare and exceptional archaeological populations do in fact provide calculated values beyond this apparent limit (e.g., Nea Nikomedia, Angel 1971). It seems likely that if they are to be interpreted as representing something other than samples unsuitable for demographic analysis by reason of their small size, they can be understood to illustrate exceptional circumstances. For example, one is a site in which there is ethno-historical evidence, not of high fertility, expected at the high end of the graph, but of high mortality associated with an influx of refugees from war and famine, preferentially of women and chil- 0.4- 0.3 — =3 "O 03 0.2 0) E CD > =3 '0.1-- • •• 4. Moita \ V Casa da Moura • o ^ Hutterites 1941-1950 A * • Arruda DnS?#AC □ « A 0.05 0.1 mean childhood mortality dren (Jackes 2000b). Another is of freed slaves returned to Liberia in the 19th century (1820-1843), a situation where young adults and children made up the bulk of the population (McDaniel 1992). The total fertility (henceforth TF) calculated for the Libe-rian emigrants from the US would provide values far beyond any possible human biological capacity for child-bearing, nearly 14 times higher than the actual Liberian TF rate at the end of the 20th century. In fact, the high end (at the upper right) of Figure 22 gives a total fertility estimate of about 12. The average woman in such a society would, between 15 and 45 years of age, have 12 live born children - an acceptable type of figure for maximum "natural fertility". To assume that all women under a "natural fertility" regime21 will produce, say, 20 children is not reasonable: it is most likely to occur under unusual circumstances, for example, when an epidemic has killed all the children in a family and a "replacement family" is achieved. But it is not the rule for the average woman. Examples of immigrant populations that did not practice contraception and emphasized child bearing (e.g. Mormons and the Quaker immigrants to the north east coast of North America) never reached such figures. The best data on "natural fertility" comes from North American Hutterites early in the 20th century, suggesting 12 or 13 as the upper limit of TF. That the Hutterites had some limits on childbearing - some restrictions on sexual activity - is clear; nonetheless such an upper limit for TF is reasonable in the face of known social and biological constraints on human fertility. Coale's Index of marital fertility is a basic demographic value by which the Hutterites of 1921 to 1930 are taken to represent the maximum potential level of childbearing within marriage, exceeded only under rare and unusual conditions. The figure given is 12.4 children. historical stationary decrease 0.15 Fig.. 22. Archaeological data, model data fCoale, Demeny 1983 West 1-10 increasing/decreasing/stationary and United Nations 1982) and historical samples provide the context for interpretation of information on the demography of Moita, Arruda and Casa da Moura. The Hutterite age at death distribution for the period 1941- 1950 fEaton, Mayer 1953.238) provides the test for the method. We must emphasize that we are talking here about the number of children possible under some circumstances 21 One not practising contraception. 104 Building a method for the study of the Mesolithic-Neolithic transition in Portugal 2 3 T3 o