Diet And Subsistence In Upper Paleolithic Portugal

An Investigation of Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic HunterGatherer Subsistence and Settlement Patterns in Central Portugal

by Jonathan Adams Haws

A dissertation submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy (Anthropology) at the UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN-MADISON 2003

An Investigation of Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic Hunter-Gatherer Subsistence and Settlement Patterns in Central Portugal Jonathan Adams Haws Under the supervision of Professor T. Douglas Price At the University of Wisconsin-Madison This study investigates the nature of Upper Paleolithic hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement patterns in central Portugal. The primary research goal is to test the Broad Spectrum Revolution model which is the predominate explanatory framework used by archaeologists in the region. Previous models characterized evidence of diachronic changes in subsistence as an indication of increased resource intensification, specialization and diversification during the Late Upper Paleolithic. In Iberia, archaeologists characterize intensification as the extraction of greater amounts of energy from the same resource. Specialization is seen through the occurrence of sites whose function centers around specific tasks and the focus on limited numbers of resource types. The goal of this dissertation is to show that the main components of the Broad Spectrum Revolution model, resource intensification and diversification, did not suddenly appear at the beginning of the Holocene, but that they have a much greater time depth. It is argued here that dietary diversity is part of our evolutionary heritage as omnivorous primates and shifts between generalized and specialized diets reflect local climatic and environmental conditions, not a directional trend in human adaptation. To test this model, archaeofaunal assemblages from two Late Upper Paleolithic caves in central Portugal were analyzed. In addition, plant exploitation was addressed by using the regional archaeological record, paleoenvironmental reconstruction and expectations

from evolutionary ecology. The assemblages from Lapa do Picareiro and Lapa do Suão represent the best samples that date to the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene. Each site has multicomponent occupations allowing the study of diachronic trends in resource use across the Pleistocene-Holocene transition. Results show that intensified use of small game animals, especially rabbit, occurred much earlier than the end of the Pleistocene. In addition, no discernible trend towards dietary diversification was found. Diets were diverse during the entire Upper Paleolithic sequence in Iberia. It is argued that the appearance of marine resource use at the end of the Pleistocene reflects changes in sea level that have severely altered the archaeological record. The transport of marine resources inland during the Early Upper Paleolithic shows that coastal resource use occurred much earlier.

iv

For my Mom and Dad

v

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumphs of high achievement and who at the worst. if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat. -- Theodore Roosevelt, excerpt from his Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, France April 23, 1910

vi Acknowledgements

Many people inspired, assisted and facilitated this dissertation. It really began with my first exposure to Paleolithic archaeology as an undergraduate at the University of Arizona. The classes I took from Arthur Jelinek, John Olsen, Stanley Olsen, and Mary Ellen Morbeck on Paleolithic archaeology and paleoanthropology sparked my interest in this period of human prehistory. I never wavered too far off course despite numerous temptations to explore other avenues. Most of these temptations came to me in graduate school at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. A wise man once said to me that choosing the right graduate school was as important as choosing the right woman to marry. I have no doubt that I made the correct decision. The influence of all of my faculty was most rewarding and I wish to thank all of them: T. Douglas Price, James Stoltman, Mark Kenoyer, Henry Bunn, Gary Feinman and Herb Maschner. They exposed me to the fascinating world of past human behavior through numerous interesting and stimulating seminars and courses. I am extremely grateful to them for passing on their knowledge and appreciation of the past. Unfortunately, I never had the pleasure of taking courses from Sissel Schroeder and Jason Yeager but I wish to thank them as well. I would also like to thank the members of my dissertation committee for all of the time they put in to reading and commenting on a previous draft. T. Douglas Price, Mark Kenoyer, Henry Bunn, Sissel Schroeder and William Aylward helped make this a better work with their kind, thoughtful and creative suggestions. They made what might have been a stressful period truly pleasureable.

vii There are numerous institutions who helped make this work possible by giving me opportunities and funding to continue research. The University of Wisconsin and its Anthropology department provided travel grants that enabled me to go to Portugal to explore my dissertation research. The Portuguese government supported the excavation of Lapa do Picareiro through its grants to Nuno Bicho, without which most of my research would not have been possible. Geochron Laboratories supported the radiocarbon dating for the site, Lapa do Suão. The National Museum of Archaeology in Portugal kindly gave permission to study materials and to take samples for further analyses. I thank all of these institutions. A long time ago I begged on to the final year of a project on Upper Paleolithic archaeology directed by Anthony Marks and João Zilhão in Portugal. It changed my life immeasurably. Without that first opportunity to work in Portugal, none of this would have happened and I am greatly appreciative. I thank Jeff Shokler for encouraging me to contact Tony Marks to get started. While on that project, I met Nuno Bicho whom I have had the greatest pleasure of working with ever since. The subsequent project he began led to this dissertation. Many rewarding personal and professional contacts were established during this last decade. On a more personal level I wish to thank many people whom I worked, played and became friends with. I am not really sure where to begin because there are so many to thank. I would first like to acknowledge and thank all of my graduate school colleagues and friends. Jeff Shokler and I shared many conversations on Portugal, archaeology and food. I

viii thank him and Sherrie for feeding me wonderful food over the years. Brian Hoffman and Matt Thomas have been great friends. I always enjoy our lunches and hours of conversation. I would like to give special thanks to my advisor, Doug Price for allowing me to grow into the person I am. Without your support and guidance through the years I would never have made it this far. Nuno Bicho and I have worked and played together in Portugal for over 10 years. It has been one of the most unimaginably wonderful experiences to explore Portugal with him. I cannot possibly thank you enough and look forward to what I know will be many years of friendship and further collaborative work. I also thank Byran Hockett for what has turned out to be a beautiful professional and personal relationship. Much of the intellectual quality of this dissertation is due to him. Our collaborative work has been extremely rewarding. I value our work and friendship immeasurably. I would also thank Maria João Valente for her generosity in allowing me to study part of the Lapa do Suão collection. It has led to a warm and enduring friendship. Much of my work in Portugal was made possible by Maria João and her in-laws, the Martins family. In addition Antonio Faustino Carvalho and Francisco Almeida became good friends and colleagues over the years. João Zilhão and Katia Araújo helped me in many ways and I consider them friends and colleagues. I would also thank Paul Thacker for numerous conversations and idea sharing about Portuguese archaeology. It seems like Chris Fisher, Kiki Gilderhus, Mike Galaty, Caroline Funk and I have

ix been the best of friends forever. We have shared so many warm and fun experiences and stimulating intellectual conversations. Since they have moved on I made fast friends with David Meiggs, Susan Reslewic, Shawn Murray, Brad Chase and Kelly Knudson. I love all of you and thank you from the bottom of my heart for being my friends and helping me along the way. Lastly, I would like to thank my entire family for their love and support. If not for them I would never have done this. My sister Ann and my parents, Bob and Penny, gave me everything I really need in life: love.

x Table of Contents Chapter 1: Introduction ............................................................................................................. 1 Part I: Theoretical frameworks for reconstructing subsistence and settlement patterns, explaining subsistence change and past application on the Iberian Peninsula .............................................................................................................................. 15 Chapter 2: Theoretical frameworks for hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement pattern studies ..................................................................................................................... 15 Site Catchment Analysis ......................................................................................................... 16 Forager/Collector Model ....................................................................................................... 17 Predictive models .................................................................................................................... 18 Optimal Foraging Models ...................................................................................................... 24 Diet Breadth .............................................................................................................................. 25 Patch Choice ............................................................................................................................. 27 Central Place ............................................................................................................................. 28 Discussion ................................................................................................................................. 30 Nutritional ecology and human dietary choice .................................................................. 33 2.1 Explanations for subsistence change ................................................................................ 38 Chapter 3: A regional perspective on Upper Paleolithic Iberia: a comparison of Cantabria, Mediterranean Spain and Portugal ............................................................. 46 3.1 Archaeological applications of economic models in Spain ........................................... 46 Cantabria ................................................................................................................................... 47 Mediterranean Spain ............................................................................................................... 52 3.2 Central Portugal ................................................................................................................... 62 Subsistence ................................................................................................................................ 69 Settlement ................................................................................................................................. 72 Part II: Prehistoric diet and subsistence................................................................................76

Chapter 4: A Western Mediterranean perspective on Upper Paleolithic plant consumption ........................................................................................................................ 81 4.1 Plant use by prehistoric Mediterranean hunter-gatherers ............................................ 81 4.2 Plant resources in Iberia ..................................................................................................... 85 Present-day climate and vegetation in Portugal ................................................................. 85 4.3 Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene Portugal ................................................................... 102 Climate change and paleoenvironment ............................................................................. 103 4.4 Modeling economic and nutritional utility of plants ................................................... 124 Pine nuts .................................................................................................................................. 129 Acorns ..................................................................................................................................... 132

xi Nutritional utility .................................................................................................................. 138 4.5 Discussion ........................................................................................................................... 141 Chapter 5: Upper Paleolithic faunal exploitation in central Portugal .......................... 146 5.1 History of investigation .................................................................................................... 146 Pleistocene faunas .................................................................................................................. 145 5.2 Prey behavioral ecology.................................................................................................... 150 5.3 Lapa do Picareiro ............................................................................................................... 156 Faunal Remains ...................................................................................................................... 164 Taphonomy............................................................................................................................. 172 Skeletal element representation and butchery patterns ................................................... 183 Discussion ............................................................................................................................... 210 5.4 Lapa do Suão.......................................................................................................................213 Faunal analysis for Lapa do Suão.........................................................................................219 Rabbits ..................................................................................................................................... 222 Avifauna.................................................................................................................................. 236 Aquatic fauna......................................................................................................................... 239 Discussion............................................................................................................................... 239 5.5 Additional fauna-bearing Final Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic sites in Portuguese Estremadura ........................................................................................................ 241 Gruta do Caldeirão ................................................................................................................ 242 Bocas, Casal Papagaio, Pena da Mira ................................................................................. 248 Lapa dos Coelhos ................................................................................................................... 253 Buraca Grande & Buraca Escura ......................................................................................... 253 5.6 Discussion ........................................................................................................................... 254 5.7 The broader regional context ........................................................................................... 258 Chapter 6: Towards an understanding of Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene subsistence and settlement in central Portugal .......................................................... 272 Summary ................................................................................................................................... 293 References Cited ...................................................................................................................... 299

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Chapter 1: Introduction

This study utilizes archaeological data to test the efficacy of the Broad Spectrum Revolution (BSR) model in central Portugal during the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene. It explores the relationships between humans and their surrounding environment in an evolutionary ecological framework that encompasses traditional paleoeconomic models, optimal foraging theory and nutritional ecology. The Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic diet, subsistence and settlement patterns of central Portugal are examined through paleoenvironmental data and detailed studies of archaeofaunal assemblages through taphonomic lenses. The goal of this dissertation is to show that the main components of the Broad Spectrum Revolution model, resource intensification and diversification, did not suddenly appear at the beginning of the Holocene, but that they have a much greater time depth. It is argued here that dietary diversity is part of our evolutionary heritage as omnivorous primates and shifts between generalized and specialized diets reflect local climatic and environmental conditions, not a directional trend in human adaptation. Archaeologists have long characterized the Pleistocene/Holocene transition as a boundary across which human societies underwent dramatic changes that ultimately led to the transition to agriculture. These include the intensification and diversification of the human subsistence base and increased sedentism, seen by greater logistical mobility, larger residential site size and the appearance of cemeteries. The most significant aspects of preagriculture human subsistence diversification are the worldwide increase in the exploitation

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of small game and aquatic resources and more intensive use of plant foods, especially seeds and nuts (Binford 1968; Flannery 1969; Hayden 1981; Bailey and Parkington 1988; Kuhn and Stiner 2001). Flannery (1969) characterized this global trend as a ‘Broad Spectrum Revolution’ in human diet. Ultimately, this dietary shift is thought to result from human population pressure on resources. As population increased in the Late Pleistocene, people were forced to incorporate new food items into their diet that were previously ignored. Increasingly, archaeologists are pushing the exploitation of small game, aquatic resources and plants further back in time (Erlandson 2001; Stiner 2000). Recently, Stiner et al. (2000) have modified the Broad Spectrum Model to account for the discrepancy between the archaeological evidence and the expectations of the original model. An alternative explanation to the nature and timing of small game, aquatic and plant resource exploitation has been offered by Hockett and Haws (2002, in press). In this approach, dietary diversity is seen as a hallmark of human adaptation not the result of progressive trends due to gradual population increase. Because these developments occurred on a global scale, information from a wide range of geographic and environmental contexts is required in order to better understand them (Straus 1996). The focus here is on the Iberian Peninsula (Figure 1.1). On the Iberian Peninsula, the overwhelming majority of the research on subsistence/ settlement patterns during the Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene comes from Cantabria and Mediterranean Spain (Aura Tortosa & Pérez Ripoll 1995; Bailey 1983; Bailey and Davidson 1983; Clark 1983a, 1983b; Conkey 1980; Moure-Romanillo 1995; Straus 1986,1987; Straus and Clark 1986; Villaverde and Martinez Valle 1995; Villaverde et al. 1998). This

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France

Asturias

Cantabria

Galicia

Andorra N

Aragón R Ebro

Catalunya

R Douro

Spain

Atlantic Ocean

Portugal València

R Tejo

Estremadura

R Júcar

Alentejo

Mediterranean Sea Murcia Algarve Andalucía






km

Gibraltar

Morocco

Figure : Map of the Iberian Peninsula

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research was facilitated by good faunal and other organic preservation in caves and rockshelters. Diachronic changes in subsistence and settlement patterns are characterized by gradual diversification and intensification of the subsistence base from the Solutrean through the Mesolithic (Clark 1987; Clark and Straus 1986; Clark and Yi 1983; Straus 1992). Clark and Straus (1986) explained subsistence change as a result of demographic expansion and resource stress, largely based on the faunal record of red deer specialization and the increase in shellfish use at La Riera cave, thus supporting the ‘population pressure’ theory and the ‘Broad Spectrum Revolution’ model for the Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene (Binford 1968; Clark and Straus 1986; Cohen 1977; Earle 1980; Hassan 1981; Neeley and Clark 1993). In Mediterranean Spain, researchers have observed a similar Late Pleistocene trend of intensified rabbit, red deer and ibex exploitation (Aura and Villaverde 1995; Aura and Pérez Ripoll 1992, 1995; Aura et al. 1998, 2002; Villaverde and Martínez Valle 1992, 1995; Villaverde et al. 1997, 1998). In this region however, there is evidence of plant and marine resources in archaeological sites dated to the Middle Paleolithic in Gibraltar (Finlayson et al. 2000). Coastal and plant resources are also apparent in the Upper Paleolithic levels of the Cueva de Nerja. This suggests the Broad Spectrum Revolution model may not fit the data from Mediterranean Spain. One of the areas of visible post-Pleistocene shifts towards coastal resource use is the central region of Portugal (Binford 1968; Clark 1952). Large shell middens dated to the Early Holocene near the Tejo estuary have been known for almost 150 years. Their appearance is thought to result from human dietary and settlement shifts coinciding with the global pattern described as the Broad Spectrum Revolution. However, Portugal has

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received comparatively less attention, yet remains the most appealing sub-region on the peninsula to study the long-term changes outlined above. Initial investigation into the Paleolithic of Portuguese Estremadura began in the 19th century by the geologists, Carlos Ribeiro and Joaquim Filipe Nery Delgado (Bicho 1993; Zilhão 1993). Their work, and that of the Serviços Geologícos, resulted in the discovery and excavation of many Upper Paleolithic sites (Zilhão 1993). Numerous caves were excavated around the turn of the century by Vieira Natividade and others from the Serviços Geológicos in the area between the coast and Serra de Candeeiros. The region was then largely ignored until the 1930s and 1940s, when Manuel Heleno excavated sites near Cambelas (Torres Vedras) and in the Rio Maior valley. Perhaps the greatest impact on Portuguese Paleolithic archaeology came from the work of George Zbyszewski and Henri Breuil. Using the fossile-directeur approach to typology and chronology, Breuil classified the Portuguese Upper Paleolithic in the same terms as the classic French core area. Despite differences between the two regions, the sequence of Aurignacian (33-25,000 bp), Gravettian (25-22,000 bp), Solutrean (22-17,000 bp), and Magdalenian (17-10,000 bp) is used to the present day to organize the Upper Paleolithic. Epipaleolithic (10-8,000 bp) has been added to this repertoire to classify sites dated to the Early Holocene which are still characteristic of the Final Upper Paleolithic (Bicho 1996; but see Vierra 1995 for a different scheme). The regional cultural chronology is provided in Table 1.1. Interest in the Late Upper Paleolithic and Mesolithic waned until the 1980s, when research begun by João Zilhão, José Morais Arnaud, and David Lubell contributed significant information on the prehistory of central Portugal (Arnaud, 1993; Bicho, 1993b;

Asturian/Geometric Epipaleolithic 




bp Azilian 





bp Upper Magdalenian 





bp Lower Cantabrian Magdalenian  





bp Solutrean 


 


bp

Mesolithic (Sauveterrian) 




bp

Azilian 





bp

Upper Magdalenian 





bp

Lower Middle Magdalenian  





bp

Solutrean 


 


bp

Adapted and modified from Straus ()

Northern Spain (VascoCantabria)

Southwest France

Solutrean 


 

bp

SolutreoGravettian Early Magdalenian  




bp

Upper Magdalenian 





bp

Microlaminar Epipaleolithic 


 


bp

Geometric Epipaleolithic 


 


bp

Mediterranean Spain

Solutrean 


 


bp

Magdalenian  


 



Late Magdalenian  




bp

Final Magdalenian/ Epipaleolithic 


 

bp

Mesolithic 




bp

Portugal

Table : Cultural divisions for Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene southwest Europe

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Lubell and Jackes, 1985; Marks et al. 1994; Zilhão, 1992,1993). Most recently, research has focused on chronology, lithic typology and technology (Bicho, 1992; Marks et al., 1994; Zilhão, 1990, 1991, 1995). This work resulted from a collaborative project between Anthony Marks and João Zilhão, funded by the National Science Foundation. The Upper Paleolithic of Portuguese Estremadura Project surveyed and excavated many Upper Paleolithic (33,000-10,000 years ago) sites near the research area (Marks et al 1994). Over the last fifteen years new syntheses of old information and results of new excavations have been used to develop explanatory models for Late Upper Paleolithic, Epipaleolithic and Mesolithic human adaptation in central Portugal (Arnaud 1986, 1989, 1993; Aura et al. 1998; Bicho 1993, 1994, 1996, 1997; González Morales and Arnaud 1990; Zilhão 1990, 1992, 1995; 1997). Several recent studies focused on hunter-gatherer mobility and movement by studying lithic technology, raw material procurement and limited information on subsistence (Bicho 1992, 1993, 1994, 2000; Shokler 1995; Thacker 1996, 2000; Zilhão 1990, 1992, 1995). Vierra (1995) attempted to link changes in lithic technology to subsistence strategies. Understanding Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene subsistence and settlement patterns requires consideration of subsistence patterns together with raw material procurement, lithic assemblage variability, and site location. Each of the models outlined suffers from the fact that they lack crucial data on subsistence and coastal site location. Preliminary faunal analyses from Lapa do Picareiro and impressions from other sites resulted in a model of intensified rabbit and red deer procurement and a broadening of the diet to include aquatic resources and possibly plants at the end of the Upper

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Paleolithic in central Portugal (Bicho and Haws 1996). However, subsequent work suggests that these resources were part of the diet for the entire Upper Paleolithic and may date to the Middle Paleolithic (Hockett and Haws 2002). In fact, little is known about human subsistence during the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene in Portugal. The visible changes in the archaeological record have been interpreted without the benefit of careful taphonomic and behavioral studies of the faunal assemblages. Only recently have systematic and taphonomic analyses of Upper Paleolithic faunal assemblages been conducted (Aubry et al. 2002; Bicho et al. 2000; Davis 2002; Haws 1998; Hockett and Bicho 2000; Valente 2000). These studies, and the analyses presented in this dissertation, are used to reevaluate the validity of the proposed models for the region centered on the larger question of Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene subsistence change. Some new interpretations using a nutritional ecology approach have already been proposed (Bicho et al. 2002; Hockett and Haws 2002a, 2002b, in press). Portuguese Estremadura contains numerous Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic sites indicating it was an important focus of prehistoric human occupation in Iberia. Other areas were probably occupied but systematic surveys to discover sites outside Estremadura have only begun in the last five years. Recent models of Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene subsistence and settlement patterns in central Portugal are based on the BSR model, namely, that resource intensification and diversification took place because of population pressure on resources. If resource intensification and diversification occurred, it should be visible in the patterning of food refuse in archaeological sites. To test the general model, this study uses faunal analyses of two Late Upper Paleolithic sites, Lapa do Picareiro and

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Table  : Components of the BSR model and its manifestation in Iberian prehistory followed by a contrasting interpretation using a nutritional ecology approach

Broad Spectrum Revolution model

Broadening of the diet at the PleistoceneHolocene transition or later Caused by increased human population due to inherent growth trends in modern humans Archaeological manifestation is the appearance of small game (rodents and birds) aquatic resources (shellfish) and plant (nuts and seeds)

Stiner modifications

Introduced new version of the model to account for the early appearance of small game and shellfish Periods of low population characterized by the use of slowmoving ‘sessile’ resources like tortoises and shellfish Size diminution in the slowmoving animals indicates overharvesting due to population pressure Diet breadth model accurately predicts a shift from tortoises and shellfish to ‘quick’ hard to catch lagomorphs and birds Appearance of fastmoving resources signals population ‘pulses’

Iberia

Resource intensification diversification and specialization apparent as early as the Solutrean in Cantabria Evidence of shellfish overharvesting seen by size diminution Increased number of sites in the Solutrean period suggests increased regional population due to influx of people from northern Europe Mediterranean Spain has evidence for resource intensification (rabbit) diversification (shellfish and birds)and specialization (rabbit red deer and ibex) beginning in the Magdalenian PleistoceneHolocene transition in Portugal is characterized by resource intensification (rabbit red deer) diversification (shellfish) and specialization (rabbit red deer) Population increase seen by increased number of sites per millennium and expansion into previously unoccupied areas Population pressure responsible for dietary shifts

Nutritional ecology model

Dietary diversity in the Paleolithic predates evidence for population increase It is an inherent feature of human dietary evolution Human populations increase because balanced essential nutrient intake leads to lower infant mortality rates and better reproductive success Population increase is not a constant feature of human demography Dietary shifts are responses to changing resource availability and the need to maintain balanced nutrient intake Dietary shifts in the Late Pleistocene correspond to changing environments Increases in the numbers of sites in the Late Pleistocene are a function of rising sea level and site visibility

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Lapa do Suão, paleoenvironmental data from deep sea cores, pollen diagrams, charcoal analyses and inferences about human behavior derived from evolutionary ecology. The faunal assemblages from the two sites form the best source of data because the ones from the other previously excavated sites were either partially recovered or the collections do not survive. One site, Gruta do Caldeirão, has recently been analyzed and these results are discussed along with others under excavation that have not been fully reported. Because the overall sample in Portuguese Estremadura is small, a regional perspective is taken in order to better understand variability in human dietary choice and subsistence behavior on the Iberian Peninsula. It will be shown that while some of the Estremaduran caves contain well-preserved faunal remains, they are not fully representative of the full range of subsistence behavior. This has important implications for each of the models for Portugal and the larger issues of intensification, diversification and specialization incorporated in the BSR model. Table 1.2 shows some expectations of the original Broad Spectrum Revolution model and recent modifications along with the archaeological manifestations. It also lists the conclusions based on previous application of the model to the Iberian Peninsula. Lastly, alternative expectations are presented from a nutritional ecology perspective. Whatever the explanation for subsistence change in prehistory, it is clear that detailed taphonomic studies must be done before higher level explanatory models can be critically evaluated. Less than systematic recovery and curation of faunal and floral remains from archaeological sites can lead to erroneous conclusions about human behavior. Unfortunately, many of

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the studies designed to test ideas about past human behavior are based on such faulty records. The organization of this dissertation is two fold. The first part concerns theoretical and methodological approaches to the study of hunter-gatherers on the Iberian Peninsula. The second part is an exploration of the archaeological record of Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic central Portugal. Chapter 2 traces the development of theoretical approaches to studying prehistoric hunter-gatherers. It begins with the work of Grahame Clark and the rise of the Cambridge paleoeconomy school from the 1950s to the 1980s. Site catchment analysis is specifically discussed because of it application to Iberia. Afterwards, the influential work of Lewis Binford on hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement patterns is discussed. Following this is a detailed review of Jochim’s (1976) explanatory model for hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement patterns, which illustrates the level of analytical intricacy that is necessary to fully grasp hunter-gatherer decision-making. This leads into a general introduction to the models collectively known as optimal foraging theory under the larger umbrella of evolutionary ecology. Included in the discussion is a new approach called nutritional ecology recently offered by Hockett and Haws (2002, in press). This approach is also appropriately placed within evolutionary ecology. Though discussed later in more detail, this model was proposed to account for non-energetic nutritional concerns in human dietary choice that were raised by linear programming proponents in the late 1970s and early 1980s.

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The purpose of this discussion is to provide a framework for the analyses and their interpretation, not to expicitly test each model. Many of these are untestable using the archaeological record but have been useful heuristic devices to make inferences about past human behavior. Explanations for diachronic subsistence change and the merits of each are discussed in the second part of chapter 2. The discussion centers on the Broad Spectrum Revolution model and the nutritional ecology approach. The BSR is essentially the same as the diet breadth model in foraging theory. Both are used by archaeologists to understand human dietary choices based on the capture of energy from the environment. The nutritional ecology approach expands the currency to include essential nutrients required by the human body to maintain health and ensure reproductive success. Chapter 3 illustrates the application of the theoretical and methodological approaches to the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene of the Iberian Peninsula. It begins with a brief review of the models of subsistence and settlement patterns developed by Lawrence Straus, Geoffrey Clark and Spanish colleagues. A review of Mediterranean Spain includes a review of the application of site catchment analyses by Geoff Bailey and Iain Davidson and their impact on prehistoric hunter-gatherer research by Spanish archaeologists. These studies were instrumental in determining that medium ungulate exploitation was highly specialized during the Late Upper Paleolithic. In both regions Anglo-American archaeological thought has had a powerful influence. Many of the ideas concerning trends in Paleolithic societies stem from the theoretical approaches outlined in chapter 2. These are evident from the works of Valentin Villaverde Bonilla, Rafael Martínez

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Valle, Emili Aura Tortosa and Manuel Pérez Ripoll. They have all done extensive research into the long term trends in subsistence and settlement strategies throughout the Paleolithic in the Spanish Mediterranean Region. The last part of this chapter introduces the models developed by archaeologists to explain Upper Paleolithic hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement pattern in central Portugal. The most comprehensive models were proposed by João Zilhão and Nuno Bicho in the last decade. Their approaches reflect differences in European (mainly French) and American perspectives on the past. Both note the intensification and specialization of resource use along with diversification at the end of the Pleistocene. Their models are presented and discussed. Part II has a short introduction to archaeological and ethnographic perceptions of hunter-gatherer diets through time. This section includes chapters on plant and animal exploitation in central Portugal. Chapter 4 begins with a regional survey of the evidence for plant exploitation from Pleistocene and Early Holocene sites in the Mediterranean. This is followed by a discussion of the present-day environment in Iberia and characteristics of some edible wild plants that were economically important in the past. Understanding the availability of plant resources for Upper Paleolithic people in central Portugal requires detailed paleoenvironmental reconstructions. Data from deep sea cores, pollen cores, charcoal analyses, microfaunal and macrofaunal inventories are presented in order to reconstruct Late Pleistocene climate and environments in Iberia. Afterwards, expectations from ethnographic observations and foraging models are used to interpret the available data from Upper Paleolithic archaeological contexts.

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Chapter 5 focuses on the exploitation of terrestrial animal resources in central Portugal during the Late Upper Paleolithic. It begins with a brief introduction to the previous research on animal bones from Upper Paleolithic sites in Portugal. A brief discussion of the behavioral ecology of prey selected by human hunters is intended to help understand prehistoric decision making and assemblage composition in each site. Faunal analyses of two sites, Lapa do Picareiro and Lapa do Suão, are discussed in detail. These are the best sources of information for Magdalenian subsistence in all of Portugal. The analysis focuses on the taphonomy and skeletal element representation of key taxa in order to explain the assemblage composition. For each site the role of carnivores and potential effects of other agents of density-mediated bone loss are discussed before interpretations concerning human treatment of animal carcasses are made. After these assemblages are discussed, they are compared to other sites in Portuguese Estremadura. The Caldeirão Cave assemblage is given special attention. The last section of chapter 5 is a discussion of the subsistence strategies observed in central Portugal and comparison with those from Mediterranean Spain. Chapter 6 concludes the dissertation by applying the subsistence and settlement data from Portugal against the Broad Spectrum Revolution model and others presented in detail in chapter 3. A hypothetical model of Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene subsistence in central Portugal is presented. Finally, some directions for future research are outlined.

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Part I: Theoretical frameworks for reconstructing subsistence and settlement patterns, explaining subsistence change and past application on the Iberian Peninsula

Chapter 2: Theoretical frameworks for hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement pattern studies

One of the most fertile domains of research on Paleolithic hunter-gatherers is found in human-land relationships, such as the construction of models of subsistence/ settlement patterns (Bettinger 1991; Binford 1980, 1982; Gamble 1986; Jochim 1976, 1998; Kelly 1995; White 1987). Paleolithic hunter-gatherers are investigated primarily through subsistence (faunal and floral remains), technological organization and raw material procurement (stone tools), and paleoenvironmental reconstruction (geological, palynological, and climatological studies). Subsistence and settlement pattern studies generally involve economic considerations based on the capture of energy from the surrounding environment. Most models incorporate modified versions of site catchment analysis (VitaFinzi and Higgs 1970), the collectors vs. foragers model (Binford 1980), or optimal foraging theory (Winterhalder and Smith 1981). Although the primary focus for study is the economy of hunter-gatherers, a more complete understanding of past behavior should include the social and ideological realms. However, these issues are difficult to address due to the lack of material preservation (but see Gamble 1999 for an alternative view). The following sections serve as a review of economic approaches to studying prehistoric

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subsistence and settlement patterns. These approaches have been used to interpret the Upper Paleolithic archaeology of the Iberian Peninsula and to explain diachronic trends during this period.

Site Catchment Analysis Beginning with the seminal paper by Vita Finzi and Higgs (1970), site catchment analysis became a primary method used by prehistorians to reconstruct (or construct) paleoeconomies. The method was designed to “study the relationships between technology and those natural resources lying within economic range of individual sites” (Vita Finzi and Higgs 1970: 5). It assumes that humans will exploit “those resources in its territory that are economic ... and that are within reach of the available technology” (Vita Finzi and Higgs 1970: 2). Territories are considered to be limited by space and time in that there is an average threshold in the distance and length of time people will travel from home bases in their daily quest for necessary resources. In hunter-gatherer societies it has been observed ethnographically that people tend to stay within 10 km or 2 hours walking time of their home base. Bailey (1983a) has made an important, if somewhat confusing, distinction between site catchment analyses and site exploitation territory analyses. The former represents an “empirical statement of the site exploitation territory, while the site exploitation territory represents a hypothetical assessment of the economic catchment” (p.61). According to Bailey and Davidson (1983), what is commonly thought of by most archaeologists as ‘site catchment analysis’ is called ‘site territorial analysis.’ In other words, a site territorial analysis is an examination of the potentially available resources within

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the vicinity of the site. The site catchment is then argued by Bailey and Davidson to be the actual area from which resources found in an archaeological site are procured. Bailey and Davidson (1983) state six objectives of site catchment analysis. These include: 1) to define the area habitually used by the occupants of a site for their daily subsistence; 2) to trace to their points of origin in the surrounding landscape materials and resources whose archaeological remains are present on-site; 3) to reconstruct the microenvironments around a site as a clue to variations in the environmental data present on-site; 4) to reconstruct the food resources potentially available to the occupants of a site and hence, by further inference, the subsistence economy actually practiced by them; 5) to reconstruct the function of sites (as home-bases, temporary camps, etc.); 6) to reconstruct the social and economic relationships between sites as members of regional settlement systems (p.88).

Forager/Collector Model Binford (1982) later modified the simplistic site catchment model. He wrote: It is unrealistic to view the potential zonation around a residential camp as simply a series of concentric circles where the use which is made of each area is exclusively conditioned by the transport and labor costs of exploiting resources at differing distances from a locus of consumption (see Jochim 1976: 51-56). The situation is more realistically visualized as a residential camp at the hub of a foraging radius and a logistical radius (Binford 1982: 8). In Binford’s scheme, there are two end points along a continuum. Collectors employ a settlement strategy of low residential mobility with a high degree of logistical mobility. In this case, people live in relatively large residential base camps and foraging would take place in the immediate zone around the camp, usually within a 2-hour walk. Task groups make logistical forays into areas at greater distances requiring overnight or longer stays away from the main camp (Binford 1982). Several site types should be archaeologically visible including butchery/processing camps, stations, caches, etc. Conversely, foragers

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tend to live in smaller groups and move their residence often. This usually occurs before resources in the immediate vicinity of a camp are depleted. Ultimately, length of stay in a residential camp will be dependent upon the availability of resources within the logistical radius of the site. The two general site types created are the residential camp and location. The former is where the majority of daily tasks are undertaken and the latter are specific points on the landscape where foragers go to obtain certain resources and return within a few hours. In this case overnight stays are considered rare. Generally, resource distribution conditions whether groups adhere to the forager or collector pattern. Foragers usually are found in environments with even resource distribution, while collectors typically inhabit patchy environments, although these are not mutually exclusive divisions (Binford 1980). Binford (1978) proposed methods for identifying settlement types based largely on faunal remains. His ethnographic work on the Nunamuit and subsequent experimental work resulted in utility indices for understanding observed skeletal element patterning. The Modified General Utility Index (MGUI) is an economic measure of body part value. Butchering strategies are conditioned by supply and demand. In cases of high supply/ low demand the higher utility body parts will be consumed or transported to a residential camp resulting in an assemblage dominated by low utility parts. This is referred to as a gourmet curve. When supply is low and demand high, a more intensive utilization of body parts results in a bulk curve (Binford 1978; Bettinger 1991). Predictive models Predictive models of hunter-gatherer behavior have been used in the past three decades to understand subsistence and settlement strategies. Jochim (1976) borrowed concepts of

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efficiency and risk from economic anthropology and built a decision-making model using ethnographic observations to predict prehistoric land use. His model involved three main assumptions: (1) Resource choice structures hunter-gatherer subsistence and settlement patterns. Choice requires decisions made to allocate time and energy for resource acquisition and utilization as well as group size and spacing; (2) choice usually is based on long range, goal-oriented decisions and rarely is opportunistic (immediate); (3) people are rational decision-makers. Making rational decisions requires knowledge of risks involved and possible outcomes. Jochim places hunter-gatherers in a state of ‘partial uncertainty’ since the exact probability of the outcomes of economic choices can be known only from previous experience (p.5). The main goals in a hunter-gatherer economy are minimizing effort and risk. With these principles in mind, the organization of huntergatherer subsistence and settlements patterns are placed in an ecological framework using systems theory. The decisions made by a hunter-gatherer population address essential problems that need to be solved. These include: the resources used and the amount of each needed, the timing and location of resource use, and group size and labor division. Three main subsystems include resource use schedule, site placement and demographic arrangement. The priority of the system lies with the resource use schedule, which requires the identification of specific goals, resources exploited, environment, measures of performance and management considerations. The two main goals are providing enough calories to sustain the population and exploiting the most reliable resources, those which provide the highest return and least risk. Additionally, resources that can be procured through

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the least amount of work are preferred. Often this is accomplished by exploiting easily captured resources, timing the use to coincide with peak abundance of the resource, and reducing the costs of travel, mainly just distance, but this point will be discussed later in more detail. Effort placed into food procurement is also conditioned by the need for population aggregation for mate exchange, food sharing, cooperative hunting, trade and rituals. Of secondary importance are the desires for taste, variety, prestige and sex role differentiation. For Jochim, taste is largely based on fat content of animals. Speth and Spielmann (1983) consider fat a dietary necessity and this need may condition subsistence and settlement strategies during stressful times of the year, mainly the late Winter and early Spring. The resource use schedule is largely determined by the behavior of the resource (Jochim 1976: 22-33). The key attributes are weight (w), density (d), aggregation size (a), mobility (m), fat content (f) and additional nonfood characteristics. Of these, weight and density are the two attributes considered in attaining the nutritional goals. The population density and mobility of a resource determine the search and capture probability enabling risk management decisions. Aggregation is possible where high yield resources are concentrated. This in turn is conditioned by the weight and nonfood yield, resource aggregation size and mobility or distance to intercept. In Jochim’s model, environmental factors such as climate, geography and seasonality cause variation in the resource use schedule. Seasonality is the most important because it “induces a patterned variation of the resource attributes” (Jochim 1976: 24). Plants are affected by the growing season. The weight and fat content of animals change with seasonal

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availability of their food, and reproductive cycles lead to variation in group size and mobility of animal populations. Nonfood attributes are also affected by seasonal cycles. Jochim then provides a mathematical means of estimating the performance of resource attributes in attaining the goals of the decision-making process. Each attribute is considered equal. Secure food and nonfood income

wnd/m

Population aggregation at minimum cost

wna/m

Taste

f

Variety Prestige

wnfm/d

Sex role differentiation

He then scores each resource in order to determine their proportional use. resource use %= resource score/sum of scores x 100 total resource use %= sum of 2 resource use %’s/2 Again, reliability and least cost are the two most important goals of resource use. The common denominator of both is the resource mobility, either in absolute terms of distance/ time or the predictability in locating a resource as per its spatial behavior. In other words, search and pursuit/capture costs. Seasonal changes in weight, aggregation and mobility are corrected for by calculating resource use percentages in monthly time intervals. A fairly good fit between the predicted resource utilization based on these measures calculated

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from game in northern Ontario and actual resource use percentages by Round Lake Ojibwa showed the potential utility of Jochim’s model. The second subsystem of the model concerns settlement location (Jochim 1976: 4763). The primary goals include proximity of economic resources, shelter, and view. Generally, economic resources are food, although in arid or cold environments, water and fuel may be of equal or greater importance. Jochim uses a gravity model to predict settlement location based on ethnographically observed organizational structure. The formula I=M1M2/R2 measures the interaction (I) of two populations (M) and the distance (R) between them. Then I= kp or the proportional use of a resource. The mass of a population is a constant (K) whereas the resource mass equals wna. Therefore, kp= Kwna/ R2. Rearranged to solve for distance and dropping the constants gives R2= wna/p. The location of a settlement is determined by the resource attributes and its dietary proportion. A hierarchical resource evaluation based on mobility results in a settlement pattern of site location near less mobile, denser (more abundant) and less clustered resources. Preferred site location is near low risk, low prestige food resources such as plants, small game or fish with access to higher risk, higher prestige resources like big game. In Binford’s terms, the more reliable resources would be found within the foraging radius of a base camp, while the higher risk large game are within the logistical radius. Settlement location is also chosen with regard to caloric requirements of a population. The catchment or exploitation radius needed to fulfill the caloric requirements for a given length of stay is measured by resource potential. Jochim considers the harvesting efficiency, dietary proportion and kilocalories per km2 provided for each resource to arrive at figures

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slightly larger than those estimated by Vita-Finzi and Higgs (1970). However, the prediction of a winter exploitation radius of 16 km2 based on moose fit the observed Ojibwa pattern. Again, the seasonal availability of resources influences the decision to settle a particular region. The pull of a resource in other areas and exhaustion of local resources will affect the occupational duration of an area. This also is dependent on human and resource population density plus harvest efficiency, which, in turn, is dependent on population and technology. The demographic arrangement of a settlement system is dependent on the resource use schedule (Jochim 1976: 65-79). Population density and spatial distribution are not determined by the environment but rather the human decision making goals of food provision, minimizing effort and risk, reproduction and social interaction. The fulfillment of the goals requires the calculation of carrying capacity, which is derived from the biomass of each resource in relation to dietary proportion, and their abundance and spatial distribution. Biomass is measured by the kilocalories per 100 km2 for each resource. Dividing by its proportion in the diet gives the carrying capacity. The maximum supportable population is calculated by dividing the carrying capacity by the yearly caloric requirements for one person based on an average of 2,000 kcal/person/day. The lowest maximum supportable population figure is the highest possible population density. This part of the model assumes 100% harvest efficiency or cull rate which is unsustainable and must be corrected for. A lower efficiency of 27% for moose (the lowest figure) fits the predicted and observed Ojibwa population density. Population aggregation and dispersal will depend on the resource use schedule as

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well. In order to minimize costs, group size is determined by the abundance of resources at any given time. Adding resource density to the measure for low-cost population aggregation (wnad/m) for each resource allows the estimation of group size. The sum of the values for each resource per season enables the prediction of hunter-gatherer aggregations. Because of its comprehensive coverage of hunter-gatherer subsistence, settlement and demography, Jochim’s model was applied to other archaeological cases. Although, the basic concepts of efficiency (least effort) and reliability (risk minimization) remain central to most models of prehistoric hunter-gatherer behavior, explicit use of his model has waned in favor of other approaches to hunter-gatherer subsistence such as optimal foraging theory. Optimal Foraging Models In the last 20 years, many archaeologists studying hunter-gatherer subsistence have adopted an evolutionary ecology approach. Evolutionary ecology is defined by Winterhalder and Smith (1992) as, “the application of natural selection theory to the study of adaptation and biological design in an ecological setting” (p.5). The most commonly utilized set of models applied to archaeology are optimal foraging models borrowed from ecology (Broughton and O’Connell 1999; Winterhalder 1981). Like Jochim’s, these models have their roots in economic theory (MacArthur and Pianka 1966). The main assumption of optimal foraging theory is that humans adapt to environments to harvest resources with maximum efficiency. The goal of behavior is to achieve maximum fitness. Adaptation is measured in net energy capture, while success is determined by the net acquisition rate (Winterhalder 1981). Though energy is the most common currency, others such as

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nutritional quality, in particular fat content, can also be used although they almost never are (Winterhalder 1981; Speth & Spielmann 1983; Jochim 1976). The three models of interest here are the Diet Breadth Model, Patch Choice Model and Central Place Foraging Model. Diet Breadth Hunter-gatherers living in a specific environment must decide which food resources to pursue and which to ignore. The Diet Breadth model predicts whether or not a resource should be pursued after encounter. In the model, procurement costs of food resources in a given environment are divided into search costs (time in locating the resource) and handling costs (time in pursuit, capture and processing) (MacArthur and Pianka 1966; Winterhalder 1981). Items are included in the diet as long as the handling costs are compensated by decreased search costs. The main difference between the two is that all prey are searched for, but only the higher ranked ones are pursued. Search costs are based on the resource density and mobility. Handling costs are also affected by processing technology. High search costs generally result in broad diet breadth whereas high pursuit costs result in narrow diets. Search costs are often conditioned by the “patchiness” of the environment so that foragers living in “fine-grained” environments typically have broad or generalized diets while those in “coarse-grained” ones have narrow or specialized diets (MacArthur and Pianka 1966; Winterhalder 1981). The model assumes that the primary goal of foraging is the maximization of energyreturn rates (Kelly 1995). Resources are then ranked according to post-encounter return rates, based on the energy (kilocalories in a single unit of resource multiplied by the amount acquired) per unit time after encounter, usually kcal/hr. Despite long search time, large

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game are usually the highest ranked resource because the caloric yield is great enough to significantly offset handling costs. Small game are often more abundant and thus have lower search costs, but pursuit costs are usually higher because more effort goes into capturing and handling them. Also, their small package size results in a low post-encounter return rate requiring a higher harvest rate to make it the worth the effort. Plant foods, though abundant and often very reliable, rank even lower in post-encounter return due to an even lower caloric yield per item, thus need to harvest and process large quantities which increases the pursuit costs. Therefore, the abundance of a resource does not determine its inclusion in the diet. Extremely abundant, low-ranked resources may be ignored as long as high-ranked resources are sufficiently abundant. Lower ranked resources will be added only when the highest ranked resources declines (Winterhalder 1981; Bettinger 1980; Kelly 1995). Ethnographic and experimental research provides general support for the model (Hawkes, Hill and O’Connell 1982; Hawkes and O’Connell 1985; Hawkes, O’Connell and Blurton Jones 1991). One disadvantage in applying the model to archaeological cases is that it requires near perfect paleoenvironmental reconstruction in order to predict which resources will or will not be used. Nor does it address the proportion of a resource in the diet as Jochim’s model does. The highly ranked resource may not be very abundant and encountered infrequently. Its high rank simply means that it will be taken when encountered. Kelly (1995) notes the reliance on energy as the sole currency in diet breadth models may underestimate the value of many resources. Fat and protein content play critical roles in hunter-gatherer food choices. For example, although the Diet Breadth model

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ranks small game such as rabbits lower than deer, because of a lower kcal/kg yield, the protein/kg of meat in rabbits is nearly equal (Erlandson 1988). Plants, too, may be sought to provide carbohydrates and fat. In addition, return rates can change due to technology, seasonal changes in animal behavior and nutritive value, or variations in forager skill level (Kelly 1995). Seasonal changes in animal behavior and nutritive value are critically important and will be returned to later. Patch Choice The Patch Choice model relies on the assumption that resources are distributed heterogeneously or in patches and that foragers encounter them randomly (MacArthur and Pianka 1966; Winterhalder 1981; Kelly 1995). Patchiness can result from the structure of habitats, prey mobility or resource depression. The patchiness of an environment will affect the number and types of habitats exploited and mobility patterns (Winterhalder 1981). As with diet breadth, in fine-grained environments foragers will use more patches and fewer in coarse-grained environments (MacArthur and Pianka 1966; Winterhalder 1981). This is due to increased travel costs between patches. In addition, patches are ranked according to energy return rates, although in this model search times are included (Kelly 1995). The highest ranked patch yields the highest energy return rate, but it may not be the most abundant. Because the model considers search/travel times, widely spaced patches will lower overall return rates thus resulting in the inclusion of more lower ranked patches (Bettinger 1991). Ultimately, the time spent harvesting a patch is determined by the quantity and quality of resources available (Bettinger 1991). Upon entering a patch the net harvest rate should

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be high. As resources are harvested, the return rates decrease. Eventually, search and pursuit costs outweigh the costs of moving and encountering another patch. Time spent in a given patch is predicted by a marginal value theorem (Winterhalder 1981; Kelly 1995; Bettinger 1991). Assuming that foragers will not completely exhaust resources in a patch, when the return rate of a patch falls below the average for all other potential patches the marginal value theorem predicts foragers should move to the next patch (Kelly 1995). If the overall environment is highly productive, foragers will spend less time in a patch and deplete resources to a lesser degree. Conversely, in lower productive environments, foragers will spend more time in patches searching for and pursuing lower ranked resources (Smith 1983). The model does have some inherent weaknesses. First, the assumption of random patch encounter is often violated because foragers learn the location of favorable patches and avoid unfavorable ones. Second, the model assumes travel between patches is unproductive, which is often not the case. Furthermore, resource density may not fully predict patch use because while some patches may be rich in certain game, they may be avoided because vegetation cover increases the search/pursuit costs (Kelly 1995; Winterhalder 1981). Unfortunately, the data required to test the patch choice model in archaeology typically are not available. However, Bettinger and Baumhoff (1982) presented a reasonably successful application that melded the patch choice model with Binford’s forager/collector model (Bettinger 1991). Central Place A third optimal foraging model relevant here is the Central Place Foraging model,

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designed to predict the distance foragers will travel to procure resources (Orians and Pearson 1979; Bettinger 1991; Kelly 1995). The distance is limited by the resource return rate. Essentially, the model predicts the effective foraging radius based on resource return rates and the dietary proportion (Kelly 1995; cf. Jochim 1976; Binford 1982). Resources are ranked according to the ratio of energy to both search time, including round trip travel time and foraging time, and handling time (Bettinger 1991). The optimal distance a forager should go is expressed graphically as the intersection of a line representing time drawn tangential to the expected energy curve. The relationship is similar to the departure time in the patch choice model, but in this case the intersection is the optimal “energetic ‘cutoff’ point marking the minimal size prey, CI, that ought to be taken given the energetic content of the patch and the round-trip distance between the patch and the central place” (Bettinger 1991: 93-94). As predicted by Jochim, smaller, easily gathered, reliable resources will be taken near a camp, while mobile, larger, higher yield resources will be pursued much farther away. The central place foraging model has the potential to enable archaeologists to explore the relationships between resource utilization, site function and location as outlined by Binford (Bettinger et al. 1997). This is important because “subsistence behaviour at foraging locations cannot be predicted from the quality and abundance of prey alone, which is assumed in the diet breadth model” (Bettinger et al. 1997: 888). So far, however, archaeological applications have been limited mainly due to imperfect knowledge of paleoenvironments and the incomplete archaeological record. These models are currently being developed and tested using ethnoarchaeological cases (e.g., Barlow and Metcalfe 1996; Bettinger et al. 1997; Bird and Bliege Bird 1997, 2000).

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Discussion For the most part, the economic tradition of the Cambridge school has been overtaken by the use of optimal foraging models. The paleoeconomic models developed in the 1970s and 1980s only considered the caloric yield of a resource. These calculations were based primarily on meat weight or plant weight and did not take encounter rates or handling costs into consideration. Site catchment analysis reached its peak in the 1980s when the approach was largely abandoned due to criticism that landscape use is much more complex and that use of uniform circles surrounding a given site to estimate an exploitation area was inappropriate (Limp 1991). Certainly this is true for the early work, however Bailey and Davidson (1983) took this problem into consideration and modified their territories. Today, catchment analysis has been “reinvigorated” by GIS application (Limp 1991). GIS provides a tool for more realistic landscape modeling as opposed to the uniform concentric circle approach. The main emphasis has shifted from mapping resources near a given site to estimate potential energy yield to modeling the environment of a large region to predict where sites should be located given the distribution of various resources. Without question Binford’s terminology has become deeply ingrained in prehistoric hunter-gatherer archaeology. In Paleolithic archaeology, this approach to interpretation is the norm. Optimality models such as Jochim’s and general foraging models are much more difficult to operationalize, so their explicit use is rare. However, the underlying assumptions are widely accepted despite existing problems. For instance, Bailey and Parkington (1988) writing on coastal resource use observed, “(w)hat is at issue here is not the inappropriateness of optimal foraging theories as such, but of relative cost: benefit

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ratios measured under average conditions (or artificial ones), without regard to the modifying effects of seasonal extremes” (p.6). Jochim’s model was an attempt to get around the problem by calculating a resource use schedule. In addition, age and sex differences among foragers need to be considered (Bird and Bliege Bird 1997, 2000; Hawkes et al. 1991, 2001). Criticisms of the diet breadth and patch choice models focus primarily on the assumption of energy-rate maximization. Many researchers, especially Jochim, have argued that reliability or minimizing risk is an important goal in hunter-gatherer decisionmaking. Stephens and Charnov (1982) designed the Z-score model with the assumption of risk minimization. The results were similar to the energy maximization except that risk-minimizers would leave a patch sooner if the return-rate threshold is greater than the maximum return-rate and stay longer if the opposite. Winterhalder (1986) applied this approach to the diet-breadth model with similar results. In this case, diet-breadth should be restricted when the threshold is greater than the expected return and broader when it is lesser. Moderate success in ethnographic cases has led to widespread use of optimal foraging models in anthropology. Their lack of greater predictive accuracy is likely due to the fact that they focus solely on energy as currency and consider human behavior in strictly economic terms. Though optimal foraging models are often criticized by archaeologists as difficult to operationalize, theorists argue that they are useful as heuristic models for generating testable hypotheses (Winterhalder 1986). However, no purely economic model for human behavior can fully explain hunter-

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gatherer subsistence and settlement patterns. As Jochim (1998) has written, …human agency is given paramount importance. This stance allows for the existence of different behavioral optima and also recognizes that any model of predicted optimal behavior should be considered as a baseline of expectations, not a description of real behavior. Optimal models allow us to visualize how people would behave if the conditions of the models were the only factors affecting their behavior (p.26, italics in original).

While one could certainly agree with Jochim that human agency should be “given paramount importance,” energy-based optimal foraging models simply do not allow it. These models predict behavior as long as the only motivation is energy-maximization. More recent evolutionary ecology approaches have recognized alternative reasons behind subsistence decisions (Hawkes et al. 1991, 2001; O’Connell et al. 1998). For instance, Alcock noted that “(a)lthough some animals do behave in ways that match predictions derived from this hypothesis, many others compromise energy maximization to deal with such things as the need for a balanced diet or the need to avoid predators while foraging” (Alcock 1993: 350). Hawkes (1993) observed that hunters did not pursue large game to provide food for their families but to acquire status. O’Connell (2000) discussed a similar pattern among Australian aboriginal hunters. These share the fundamental argument that natural selection acts upon human behavior that maximizes reproductive fitness, not necessarily caloric intake (Winterhalder and Smith 2000). The fact of the matter is that without realistic paleoenvironmental reconstructions, archaeologists cannot use these models in periods for which there are no modern analogs because it is impossible to know what resource availability would have been. Without this knowledge one cannot rank food items and predict what decisions would have been

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made. Nor can archaeologists test hypotheses that require observations of subsets of a given population such as gender or age groups. This is perhaps why most foraging models are applied to contemporary hunter-gatherers instead of prehistoric ones. Archaeologists have made a few attempts to build specific models for prehistoric cases. Most of these economic models consider the potential yield of resources based on modern estimates extrapolated into the past (e.g. Rowley-Conwy 1984; Straus 1986). More complicated attempts at patch choice models have been made but they are highly speculative and usually based on many weak assumptions (e.g., Sept 2001; Zeanah 2000). Nutritional ecology and human dietary choice Although specific models for the Paleolithic are rare, the underlying principles of foraging models are commonly used in archaeological interpretation. The most commonly held assumption concerns the choice of energy as currency. All paleoeconomic models assume caloric yield of resources to be the basis for hunter-gatherer subsistence decisions. A critical problem with the use of energy as the currency is that it ignores broader nutritional needs. Energy-based foraging models have been criticized for two decades for this reason (Hill 1987; Keene 1983). Many foraging theorists acknowledge the need to consider other currencies but most continue to rely on energy because it offers “simplicity” over “reality”, the latter being too complex (Jochim 1998; Kelly 1995; Sept 2001). Recently, Kaplan and Hill (1992) ranked resources procured by Aché men and women separately. Neither foraged according to the predictions of the diet breadth model. Men ignored plants that offered higher caloric return rates in favor of meat resources. Women ignored highly ranked animal resources altogether, instead focusing on easily gathered

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honey and plants. Kaplan and Hill (1992) write: Existing optimal foraging models are quite useful for predicting food choice among resources composed of similar macronutrients but may need to be modified to account for sensitivity to the nutrient constituents of foods. The assumption that energy is the sole measure of food value may be inadequate (p.176).

Hockett and Haws (in press) have offered an alternative approach called ‘nutritional ecology’ to understanding human dietary choice that does not rely solely on energy. Nutritional ecology is defined as the study of the relationship between essential nutrient intake and its effects on overall health, including growth and maintenance in individuals and general demographic trends in human populations. This concept is a slightly altered definition of that used by Jenike (2001). The nutritional ecology approach is not an alternative to evolutionary ecology, rather it is based on the same assumption that natural selection influences human dietary choices. In this case, successful adaptations are those that ensure a balanced intake of essential nutrients leading to lower infant mortality rates, greater life expectancy and reproductive success. Nutritional ecology does not measure foraging efficiency in net energy return of calories from the environment. Instead it focuses on essential nutrient intake. The model does not assume that foragers will stop to calculate the nutritional quality of a resource before deciding to pursue it or not. The nutritional ecology model requires that a number of critical assumptions be accepted: (1) that hunter-gatherers will make dietary choices that result in balanced diet whether by accident or intention, (2) that balanced nutrient intake from a wide diversity of food sources results in better health, (3) that better health leads to lower infant mortality rates and reproductive success, (4) that lower infant mortality rates and higher reproductive

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success are necessary for population growth. Some argue that hunter-gatherer diets are naturally diverse and they will consume the necessary nutrients by default. Jochim has argued that foods high in energy are naturally high in protein and fat and will also provide all of the necessary amino acids, vitamins and minerals. In many economic models protein content of food items was considered a sufficient nutritional constraint. However, as Stini (1971) wrote, “(p)roteins are necessary to supply the necessary balance of essential amino acids and vitamins and minerals are often not available in adequate quantities in foods that are excellent energy sources” (Stini 1971: 63). Others, such as Speth, have shown how consideration of macronutrient (protein, fat and carbohydrates) requirements can alter perceptions about prehistoric diet choices (Speth 1990, 1991; Speth and Spielmann 1983). From a nutritional perspective, fats are the best sources of energy, supplying over twice the calories per gram than protein and carbohydrates (Wing and Brown 1979). The body easily converts fat and carbohydrates into energy. Protein, on the other hand, can be a potentially dangerous source of energy. Speth and Spielmann (1983) documented numerous historic cases illustrating the physiological problems of excess protein consumption. Protein poisoning will occur when people consume excessive amounts of lean meat in the absence of fat and carbohydrate because the body will be forced to convert protein into energy to maintain itself. Fat and carbohydrate are efficient energy sources because both have low specific dynamic action (SDA). Protein metabolism is inefficient because the body has to break the protein down and convert the amino acids to glucose to supply the energy it requires. This leads to greater heat production and energy loss, which must be made up by

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consuming even more protein. The SDA for protein is 30%, which means for every 100g an additional 30g must be consumed. In addition, fat and carbohydrates have what is called a “protein-sparing action.” When the body uses protein for energy, the first priority is meeting energy needs, so body proteins are not replenished. In extreme cases the body must rely on skeletal muscle proteins for energy which leads to dramatic weight loss, organ failure and, eventually, death. Because protein has a high nitrogen content, this also leads to increased nitrogen excretion from the kidneys in the form of urea, which also causes loss of essential minerals and water. The liver can only synthesize a certain amount of urea each day, and therefore an upper limit of about 50% protein can be safely consumed. This figure, in fact, may be much lower (Noli and Avery 1988). The sparing action of fat and carbohydrates reduces the loss of body protein and nitrogen. Studies show carbohydrates exert a much greater sparing action than fats and thus may be a better resource during periods of dietary stress ( Speth 1991; Speth and Spielmann 1983). As Meehan (1977: 493) noted, ‘man does not live on calories alone.’ Besides protein, fat and carbohydrate, humans require many micronutrients such as amino acids, fatty acids, vitamins and minerals. These are normally ignored in foraging models but their consideration can also alter perceptions about the value of a resource and its potential “rank” in prehistoric diets. For several years, paleonutritionists have attempted to reconstruct the nutrient composition of the “average” Paleolithic diet ( Cordain et al. 2000; Eaton et al. 1985; Eaton and Konner 1985; Eaton et al.1997). Their work provides a much better heuristic for understanding prehistoric subsistence. Instead of assuming a balanced diet was maintained by maximizing energy, their basic questions have been,

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“what constitutes a balanced diet?” and “what would a balanced Paleolithic diet consist of?” Using Lee’s (1968) compilation of hunter-gatherer subsistence, divided into % hunting, fishing and gathering, Eaton and Konner (1985) and Eaton et al. (1997) produced estimates for the ratio of plants to animals in Paleolithic diets. They suggest an energy contribution of 22% fat, 37% protein and 41% carbohydrate based on a plant to animal ratio of 65:35. Recently, Cordain et al. (2000) revised these figures to a 45:65 plant to animal ratio for three-fourths of recent hunter-gatherers, based on a reconsideration of the Ethnographic Atlas data in which hunting and fishing were lumped together. Their conclusion was that, when possible, hunter-gatherers would maximize meat (balancing protein and fat) consumption at the expense of plants (carbohydrates). Plant consumption is secondary but still represents 35-55% of overall diet. Although these ratios are based on recorded observations of recent hunter-gatherers, biases inherent in the Ethnographic Atlas data may inflate the economic or dietary importance of certain food groups. Most of the data come from historic and early ethnographic accounts which are notoriously biased towards male hunting activities and limited seasonal visits by the observers (Hunn 1981; Milton 2000). In fact, Hunn (1981) shows that the diet among Columbia-Fraser Plateau huntergatherers was around 70% plant foods gathered by women. This alone casts serious doubt on claims that plants were not important dietary items above 40o latitude. In spite of this, the ranges in estimated plant:animal ratios and average maconutrient intake show there may be a fairly high degree of variability in what constitutes an average Paleolithic diet. Eaton et al. (1998) focused on the importance of long-chain polyunsaturated fatty acids in human nutrition. Among these are the essential fatty acids, linoleic (LA), linolenic

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(LNA), eicosapentaenoic (EPA), docosapentaenoic (DPA), arachidonic (AA), docosatetrenoic (DTA) and docasahexaenoic (DHA) acid. The latter three are considered “brain-specific,” that is, they are almost exclusively in the brain and are necessary for brain growth and development. Results of nutritional analyses suggest that optimal diets are not simply ones that maximize energy intake. Nutrient composition should be considered in order to build optimality models. Balanced diets lead to greater overall health and therefore reproductive success. Inclusion of food items that may be “suboptimal” in that they lower overall foraging efficiency may provide nutritional benefits other than calories.

2.1 Explanations for subsistence change According to the economic optimization models, subsistence change resulting in a widening of the diet breath or addition of resource patches not previously exploited will occur when the highest ranked resource or patch declines in abundance or productivity. Though the Diet Breadth model can be used to determine whether hunter-gatherers are using “sub-optimal” resources, indices of diversity and evenness are commonly used to track change through time (Christensen 1980; Cruz-Uribe 1988; Grayson 1984; Kintigh 1988). For the Late Paleolithic and Mesolithic in Europe, Clark and Yi (1983), Zvelebil (1990), Neeley and Clark (1993) and Bridault (1994, 1997) used diversity measures to argue for and against increased diet breadth through time. Important factors determining dietary shifts include climate, technology and demography (Earle 1980). General models for subsistence change focus on population as the “prime mover” forcing change (Boserup

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1965; Christensen 1980; Cohen 1977; Earle 1980). For the Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene, Binford (1968) explained the apparent shift from large game to small game, birds, fish, shellfish and plants as the natural result from increased population pressure on food resources. As the available land filled with people, groups were no longer able to move and were thus forced to exploit low ranked resources. Flannery (1969) formalized this expansion of diet breadth into the ‘Broad Spectrum Revolution’ to describe the trend in subsistence change in the Near East. He also used population pressure to explain specialization in large herbivore use followed by diversification to include “marginal resources” mentioned by Binford. With population pressure firmly entrenched, Cohen (1977) offered 14 circumstances in which population pressure could be invoked to explain subsistence change. Broughton and O’Connell (1999) offer a few methods for detecting resource depression and subsequent diet broadening in prehistory. First, there is the changing relative frequencies between large and small game. Second, the level of carcass processing that is reflected in the damage inflicted on bones. Third, skeletal element representation in relation to utility could be used “as an index of distant patch use and associated increases in resource transport costs.” (Broughton and O’Connell 1999: 155). An alternative explanation for Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene subsistence change has been offered by Hayden (1972), who argued that hunter-gatherers maintain controls to keep population well below carrying capacity so that resource imbalances do not occur. He later characterized the trend from large to small game as a shift from K-selected to rselected resources (Hayden 1981). Instead of population pressure or environmental change,

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Table : Prerequisites for population pressure according to Cohen (

) ) When it is possible to is olate the exploitative cycle of a single group making its annual round evidence that the range covered is increasing (ie that people are travelling increasing distances for food) should indicate population pressure ) W hen a group expands into new ecological zone and territories population pressure may be assumed ) When the inhabitants of a region become more eclectic in their exploitation of microniches utilizing portions of t he environment such as deserts coastal areas or forests which have previously been ignored while continuing to exploit the old niches demographic pressure may again be assumed ) When human populations show a shift toward more and more eclectic food gathering patterns shown by reduced selectivity in t he foods eaten it may be argued that they…need to obtain more calories from the same territory in order to feed denser populations ) W hen a group increases its concentration on waterbased resources relative to its use of those that are landbased especially …shellfish whose exploitation is independent of an y new technology this shift may be viewed as resulting from demographic necessity rather than choice ) When a group shifts from eating large huntable land mammals to eating smaller mammals birds reptiles and land molluscs demographic stress may again be assumed

) When a group shifts from the consumption of organisms at high trophic levels to … lower trophic levels (in p articular when it s hift from meat to plant foods) ) W hen a shift occurs from the utilization of f oods requiring little or no preparation to foods requiring increased amounts of preparation ) When there is evidence of environmental degradation suggesting human efforts 
) When skeletal evidence of malnutrition increases through time ) When the size or quality of individuals exploited from a particular species shows a steady decline through time (when for example when the size of molluscs in one or more shell middens decreases)  ) When an exploited species disappears from the archaeological record it may be argued that the species was exploited beyond its carrying capacity )increasing scarcity of resources should result in the gradual breakdown of the system of open population flux If this is true then regional specialization of artifact styles may itself be an indicator of population pressure ) sedentism and the practice of artificial food storage

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episodic periods of resource stress led to shifts toward more reliable r-selected resources. Minimizing risk, not population pressure, is the driving force behind human decisionmaking (Hayden 1981; Winterhalder 1986; Yellen 1986). However, Winterhalder (1986) argued that food sharing is a more effective means of minimizing risk than changes in diet breadth. The population pressure model has recently been revised by Stiner et al. (2000). They argue that instead of a constant population rise culminating in the broad spectrum revolution, demographic pulses occurred during the Pleistocene as evidenced by shifts in small game procurement from slow-moving prey such as tortoises and shellfish to fastmoving lagomorphs and birds. Heavy predation due to population pressure led to overexploitation of tortoises and shellfish forcing people to invest more time and energy chasing rabbits, hares and birds. Over-exploitation was based on size diminution in tortoise humeri and limpet shells from 4 sites/9 levels in Italy and 2 sites/9 levels in Israel dated between 200-9kya. For Italy, Stiner et al. (2000) show a limpet average size reduction of 1 cm diameter between the Gravettian (24-28kya) and Early Epigravettian (17-19kya) at Riparo Mochi dated on lithic typological grounds. In Israel, tortoise humeri size reduction of 0.5 cm occurs between ~150kya and 100-70kya at Hayonim. Further reduction by 0.2 cm occurs between the 100-70kya (Middle Paleolithic) and 26-28kya (Aurignacian). Comparison with the Kebara Cave assemblage indicates size reduction (4.5-4.0 mm) took place between the late Middle Paleolithic (60-48kya) and Upper Paleolithic (44kya). Stiner et al. (2000) equate statistical significance tests on limpet and tortoise size reduction with human overexploitation due to population pressure.

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While the tests reveal significant differences between periods they fail to answer the question as to how “real” the differences are. Does an average size reduction of 1 cm in limpet shell diameter or an apparent reduction in tortoise humeri of 3-5 mm reflect “overexploitation” or simply “exploitation” (cf. Jones and Richman 1995)? More importantly, does size diminution reflect “human exploitation?” Claassen (1998) cites numerous examples of size differences in bivalves, limpets and other gastropods due to natural factors such as environment, non-human predation, recruitment and juvenile survival, collection zone/site, and sampling. For instance, juvenile recruitment success and failure has lasting effects on size frequencies of shellfish, where bad recruitment years can lead to aged or large-sized dominated populations, whereas one good recruitment year can result in smaller-sized profiles. Furthermore, many shellfish experience rapid growth over a few months such that populations exploited during the early Spring may be on average significantly smaller than those harvested in late Summer (Gordo 1982). Lasiak (1992) and Meehan (1982) also noted size differences in shells of bivalves and limpets due to season of collection. Seasonality is therefore a critical factor in assessing measured size differences in shells through time in archaeological middens. Recently, Kuhn and Stiner (2001a & b) have pushed the BSR back to the beginning of the Upper Paleolithic based on the presence of personal ornamentation, namely, the perforated shells found in the earliest Upper Paleolithic levels of K’sar Akil in Lebanon and Üçagizli in Turkey. They argue that the need for personal ornamentation was based on social constraints in the face of demographic pressure. Population ‘packing’ resulted in the need for group identity and affiliation. Thus, the BSR and population pressure are

43

tied to the spread of anatomically modern humans into Europe. The tenets of the nutritional ecology approach lead to a very different definition of dietary “diversity.” In the diet breadth model, taxonomic richness is used to measure diversity. Diets based on red deer and rabbit would be considered less diverse than ones based on red deer, ibex, horse, auroch and rabbit (Grayson and Delpech 1998). The values in Table 2.2 show that terrestrial mammals have roughly equal proportions of macronutrients. A similar pattern is seen across fish and shellfish species. Diets that have one or a few terrestrial mammals provide the same proportions of essential nutrients. They would not be considered diverse in terms of essential nutrient intake. However, those that include taxa from the different classes of animals (and plants) provide a truly diverse range of essential nutrients (Hockett and Haws, in press). Although terrestrial mammals are excellent sources of energy, they do not provide all of the essential nutrients required by the human body to maintain itself. Though organ meats can provide key vitamins not found in muscle tissue, they are often not in appropriate proportions for human nutritional requirements. For instance, the liver contains vitamins A, C and E but consuming enough liver to get the necessary vitamin C would lead to dangerous over-consumption of vitamin A. A much more efficient way of getting the essential nutrients would be to consume a diverse set of plants and animals. As a consequence, foraging efficiency would not be measured by energy intake but by dietary diversity measures across general classes, like mammals, birds, fish, etc. (Hockett and Haws, in press). Using the nutritional ecology approach, subsistence change resulting in increased

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Table   Comparison of a number of caloric and noncaloric essential nutrients of various classes of foods All values are based on 

g of food (After Hockett and Haws in press)

Essential Nutrient Energy (kcal) fat (g) protein (g) carbs (g) NonCaloric C (mg) Thiamin (mg) Riboflavin (mg) Niacin (mg) B (mg) B (mg) A (IU) Folate (mg) D (mcg) E (mg) Calcium (mg) Iron (mg) Potassium (mg) a

Terrestrial Terrestrial Mammals Mammals (muscle)a (organs)b    








     




  

 

   
 g  

   
  

Shellfish

c

d

e

Birds

Fish

Plants

 

  

  




  




   



   
  








  
    
h  
 



   
  


  





     



 
 



Based on average values of horse bison red deer rabbit wild boar and reindeer b Based on average values of beef liver brains and kidneys c Based on Lamellibranchia d Based on average values of grouse/partridge and duck e Based on average values of Atlantic salmon sea trout and sardine f Based on average values of over

edible plant foods found in the  Mediterranean region  g 

g of liver alone provides nearly 


IU A single daily serving of 


 to 



IU may be lethal  h Egg yolks contain significant quantities of vitaminD; one egg (the yolk) can supply 
mcg of vitaminD almost as much as 

g of beef liver

f

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dietary diversity through time is not explained by population pressure on resources forcing people to adopt energy-poor low-ranked resources. Diets based solely on terrestrial mammal meat (typically argued for the Middle and Upper Paleolithic in Europe) would be less efficient leading to less healthy populations, higher infant mortality rates and low overall reproductive success. Hockett and Haws (in press) have argued that the ability of anatomically modern human populations to replace Neandertals in temperate Europe was based on their more efficient, diverse diet. Instead of population pressure based on some inherent capability to reproduce, anatomically modern humans were able to grow their populations because their more efficient nutrient intake led to greater reproductive success, lower infant mortality rates and better overall health (Hockett and Haws, in press).

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Chapter 3: A regional perspective on Upper Paleolithic Iberia: a comparison of Cantabria, Mediterranean Spain and Portugal

3.1 Archaeological applications of economic models in Spain Archaeologists investigating Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene subsistence and settlement patterns in Iberia invariably take an ecological approach. The focus on technoenvironment is made explicit by most researchers (Clark 1991; Straus 1991). Even in the social and ideological realms, numerous studies have attempted to explain the parietal and mobiliary art found throughout the peninsula in an ecological framework (Barton et al. 1994; Clark 1983, 1993, 2000; Conkey 1980; see Mithen 1993 for an alternative view). Clark (2000) characterizes the portable art as manifesting “assertive” style while parietal art is evidence of “emblemic” style (sensu Wiessner 1983). Conkey’s (1980) model of prehistoric aggregation suggests the existence of bounded social groups in the FrancoCantabrian region. Despite these attempts, no definitive stylistic boundaries attributable to ethnic groups within Levantine Spain or Portugal have been identified. Lithic studies in each sub-region have also failed to discern sub-regional “isochrestic” style zones. However, there are regional differences in art and material culture between the three subregions that suggest social territories (Arteaga et al. 1998; Straus 1992; Zilhão 1995). The main basis for delimiting “real” Late Upper Paleolithic culture areas has been the use of physiographic and ecological features. Within these, archaeologists have reconstructed exploitation territories or ranges. Different approaches, outlined previously in chapter 2, have been applied in each area.

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Cantabria Perhaps the best known archaeological sub-region in Iberia is Cantabrian Spain, located on the northern coast in the provinces of Santander and Asturias (see Figures 1.1 and 3.1). Bounded by the Cantabrian Cordillera on the south and Bay of Biscay on the north, the region is divided by river valleys running into the sea and crosscut by rasas, or ridges. Numerous archaeological investigations have been conducted over the past century due mostly to the abundance of cave paintings in the region. Over the past thirty years Cantabria has been the subject of intensive interdisciplinary research designed to reconstruct subsistence/ settlement systems (Bailey 1983a,b; Bailey and Davidson 1983; Freeman 1973, 1981, 1988; Clark 1983a, 1983b, 1999; Straus 1986, 2000). By far, the works of Geoffrey Clark and Lawrence Straus have had the greatest impact from a theoretical standpoint. Their research has shed light on long term trends in subsistence/settlement patterns during the Upper Paleolithic. Perhaps the most intriguing observation is the gradual diversification and intensification of the subsistence base from the Solutrean through the Mesolithic (Clark 1987; Clark and Straus 1986; Clark and Yi 1983; Straus 1992). They argued that demographic expansion and resource stress led to subsistence change as described in the Broad Spectrum Revolution model. Their argument was based on the faunal record of red deer specialization and the increase in shellfish use at La Riera cave, which gave support to Cohen’s (1977) ‘population pressure’ theory (Clark and Straus 1986). In their test of the Cohen model, the sole criterion met was size reduction of a particular species, in this case, limpets. Subsequent research has continued the use of the BSR model (Straus 1991, 1992,

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1995a, 1995b, 1996; González Morales 1995; González Sainz 1995; Aura et al. 1998; but see González Morales 1991for a different view). Here, as in other areas, exploitation of a diverse range of plants and animals coincides with the spread of forests back into the region. Cantabria was a fertile testing ground for site catchment analyses in the 1970s and 1980s (Bailey 1983; Bailey and Davidson 1983; Clark 1983; Clark and Lerner 1980). Clark’s (1983; also Clark and Lerner 1980) work focused mainly on Mesolithic subsistence and settlement patterns. Bailey and Davidson (1983) made explicit use of site catchment and site territorial analyses for Cantabria between 20,000 and 15,000 bp, corresponding to the Solutrean and Lower Magdalenian. Bailey (1983) grouped the Cantabrian sites into clusters that share the same site exploitation territory based on 2-hour distance radii creating tightly packed site yet mutually exclusive territories along the Cantabrian coast. The three main site clusters, El Castillo, La Riera and Lloseta, are located in good positions to exploit interior/upland ibex, coastal plain red deer, and coastal shellfish resources. Bailey argues these three represent major site systems capable of providing resources year-round. However, one of the main difficulties in reconstructing subsistence/settlement systems for this period is that the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM) coastline would have extended an additional 8-10 km, meaning a significant portion of the archaeological record is likely submerged under the sea (Clark 1983; Perlman 1980). An alternative view proposed by Craighead (1995) suggests an even shorter distance. Straus and Clark (1986) used site catchment analysis and the forager/collector model to reconstruct subsistence and settlement patterns. Straus’ (1986) model was illustrated

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El Juyo La Riera Altamira Rascaño

N

Erralla

L'Arbreda Chaves

Picamoixons

Atlantic Ocean Cova Fosca Matutano

Buraca Grande Caldeirão

Lapa do Picareiro Lapa do Suão

Cingle Vermell

Cova dels Blaus

Bocas

Cueva de la Cocina Volcán de Faro Les Mallaetes Parpalló Tossal de la Roca

Figueira Brava

Santa Maira Cova de les Cendres

Vale Boi Nerja Vanguard Cave Gorham's Cave




Mediterranean Sea



km

Figure : Map of Iberia showing the main sites mentioned in the text

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by drawing foraging radii around residential sites with arrows pointing to the hilly and montane regions where ibex and other resources were exploited. Straus argues for a logistical exploitation strategy due to “optimally situated base camps” and high resource density (Straus 1986: 331). Site location seems best determined by ‘blocking’ locations in river valleys where red deer can be effectively hunted suggesting a specialized adaptation (Bailey 1983; Straus 1986). The best attempt to quantify the available or potential resources for Late Upper Paleolithic Cantabria is Straus’ (1986) model, which sought to determine the number of microbands supportable by red deer in the Solutrean and Magdalenian. His approach was similar to Jochim’s in that it was based on the estimated red deer carrying capacity by analogy with the present-day Scottish Highlands. Following Vita Finzi and Higgs, Straus drew upon Darling’s “Herd of Red Deer” study from the Scottish Highlands in the 1930s. In many ways , Darling’s study is more applicable to Upper Paleolithic northern Spain than the Levant due to environmental similarities between present-day Atlantic heathlands of Scotland and Late Glacial Maximum Cantabria (Straus, 1986). Darling gave an average of one red deer per 40 acres for the Highlands, with a range of 1 per 30 acres to 1 per 100 acres. In total, he counted 1315 deer in the 52,000 acre area. Population balance was maintained by a 20% annual cull combined with a 50% mortality rate in the first year. The average weight of the adults ranged from 125-200 kg. After calculating the total land area during the LGM (1600 sq. km), Straus estimated red deer populations for eastern Asturias between 8-10,000 (80-100 herds of 100 animals). Assuming an average of 100 kg usable meat per animal a 10% cull rate, red deer could have provided 8000 kg or 320kg/person in

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a 25 person band. With a 1400 kcal/kg average venison yield and a cold-climate dietary requirement of 3,600 kcal/day/person for the LGM (a person would need to eat 2.5kg per day!), Straus proposed 8-10 bands of 25-30 people for eastern Asturias during the LGM. Although overall population density may have been low, coastal densities were likely much higher (Straus 1986). While this model assumes exclusive consumption of red deer it serves to illustrate the potential resource availability. Straus rightly estimated the extraordinary amount of lean meat that would have been required to avoid protein poisoning in the absence of fat and carbohydrate. However, several problems arise with these estimates. Straus uses plane surface area, not taking into consideration topographic variation. As alluded to earlier, the topography of Cantabria is cut by river valleys, hills, ridges, and mountains making use of planar surface area suspect in estimating animal populations. Another problem is that in the Scottish Highlands the herds of red deer are managed for sport hunting. All predators except humans have been eliminated, as have competing animals. While it is true that archaeofaunas are dominated by red deer and ibex, it is assumed that this represents the natural background availability. This may be true, however it must be realized that site location seems best determined by points on the landscape where red deer can be most effectively hunted (Bailey 1983; Straus 1986). This suggests a specialized adaptation. What we ‘see’ archaeologically may be clouded by human decision-making, a problem in site catchment analyses (Davidson 1983). An additional problem is the use of meat weight estimates for red deer in order to calculate the potential human population. No one, including Straus, would argue that hunter-gatherers were consuming red deer meat

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exclusively, but the model becomes inherently flawed when the assumption is made, in spite of its simplicity. Even used as a heuristic this approach will not accurately estimate population, although there appears to be a desire among archaeologists to attempt it.

Mediterranean Spain The coastal strip of Spain from Catalunya down to Valencia and across Murcia to Andalucía has been a focus of paleolithic archaeologists for decades (see Figures 1.1 and 3.1). This region is often referred to as Levante or the Spanish Mediterranean Region (SMR). It is quite different than Cantabria in geography and environment. In constrast to the northern coast, the Mediterranean coast is characterized by a broad coastal plain which extended 20-30 km further during the Late Pleistocene. This plain is bounded by mountains with elevations up to 3000 m, making the region geographically circumscribed. The vegetation is strictly Mediterranean and is discussed further in chapter 4. Economic life in the Upper Paleolithic was described by Pericot (1968). He recognized that Paleolithic hunter-gatherers depended heavily on meat from large game but also consumed a wide variety of small game, birds, fish, shellfish and plants. He argued that shellfish were as important to people who occupied Parpalló as abalone was to prehistoric coastal peoples in California. For plants, the most likely ones included were hazelnuts, acorns, walnut and chestnuts. Additionally, wild fruits, berries, roots, tubers, grass seeds, fungi and even seaweed were likely important dietary items (Pericot 1968). The earliest attempts to reconstruct subsistence and settlement patterns were done

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by Davidson (1976, 1983) and Bailey and Davidson (1983). Both studies undertook site catchment and site territorial analyses for the Late Pleistocene in this region. Both used faunal and artifactual remains to estimate the site exploitation territories of Upper Paleolithic sites in Valencia. In general, these sites, which contain deposits dated to the Gravettian and Solutrean, are dominated by rabbit, red deer and ibex. Davidson (1976) used the 2-hour and 1/2-hour walk radius of Vita Finzi and Higgs (1970) to calculate site exploitation territories for the Upper Paleolithic sites Parpalló, Les Mallaetes in the Mondúver massif and Volcán de Faro on the coast of València. Examination of Parpalló and Les Mallaetes reveals some important differences between the two. Although they share much of the same exploitation territory (79% overlap) they may be different seasonal base camp locations. Parpalló, located at 450m asl, has a south facing entrance whereas Les Mallaetes, 600m asl, has a west facing entrance, exposed to prevailing winter winds. Parpalló has better access to low elevation flat pastureland in an area beyond the overlap with Les Mallaetes. On the other hand, Les Mallaetes has better access to higher elevation flat areas. Although the two certainly have access to ibex and red deer habitats, Parpalló would have been better suited to hunt red deer in the winter and Les Mallaetes to hunt ibex in the summer (Bailey and Davidson 1983). Indeed, Parpalló has numerous hearths and an overabundance of antler while Les Mallaetes has little antler, male ibex (presumably on their own during the summer), neonates, and few hearths (Davidson 1983). Davidson followed this line of thought further by experimenting with 1/2 hr mutually exclusive site exploitation territories. Within this area there are seasonal advantages.

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Parpalló, however, is not situated so much for access to grazing areas as it is advantageously located in a valley corridor to hunt red deer on their migration to and from summer pastures. Given the antler evidence for site seasonality, it may have been occupied when red deer were leaving the upland pastures. Turning to the coastal lowlands, Davidson suggests that the Maravelles and Porcs sites were nearer to lower elevation pastures that may have been exploited in winter. Thus, there may have been a pattern of seasonal transhumance between the coast and the upland interior. Marine shells have been found at Parpalló and Les Mallaetes which were about 30 km from the LGM coast. It would seem unlikely, based on this, that the economic catchment and the site exploitation territory were the same during this period. However, similar red deer to ibex ratios for Les Mallaetes and Parpalló led Davidson to favor the 2-hour radius for site exploitation territories, which allows for access to both resources. He put forth climate change as a possible explanation for why these two would have similar ratios. It seems unlikely that this could explain the similarities since they were both occupied during the Last Glacial Maximum. The idea of a large (2 km) exploitation territory makes more sense. At Volcán, the 2-hour site territory contains both red deer and ibex habitat. Within the 1/2-hour territory, ibex habitat dominates the area, but the abundance of red deer contradicts notions that it was ideally suited for ibex exploitation (Davidson 1983). Summer occupation might have reduced the likelihood that ibex were present near the site and increased the availability of red deer. If this is truly the case, then a model of transhumance may not be accurate. There may have been two groups living side by side, one in the interior and the other on the coast with some interaction apparent between the two. Though

55

Davidson (1983) suggested this possibility his acceptance of the larger exploitation territories for the two interior sites would make it unlikely. A third possibility is that the resolution is too coarse-grained and that Parpalló and Les Mallaetes were occupied in alternating years or generations. Such a case would not show up with the limitations in dating methods for the Upper Paleolithic. As Straus did for Cantabria, Davidson used meat weight estimates to model the subsistence economy for Mediterranean Spain. The main difference between the faunal record in Mediterranean versus Cantabrian Spain is the extreme abundance of rabbit remains in the former. Rabbits have always been problematic in Iberian cave and rockshelter assemblages due to their burrowing habits and deposition by predators such as lynx, fox, and eagle owl. Recent taphonomic work by Hockett, Pérez Ripoll and Serra in Iberia has shown differences in characteristics of assemblages deposited by humans and predators. These will be discussed later in chapter 5. Davidson (1976) assumed for the sake of modeling that people deposited most of the rabbit bones in the caves and rockshelters of Mediterranean Spain. He then addressed the problem of the importance of rabbit in the diet during the Upper Paleolithic. Using dressed meat weight of rabbit, red deer and ibex he concluded 100-150 rabbits would be necessary to equal the amount of meat from a single adult male red deer. Based on MNI estimates from Les Mallaetes he argued rabbit comprised less than 3% of the diet. Furthermore, using estimates of rabbit hunting rates from modern ecological studies he calculated a hypothetical rabbit-based economy. Davidson used 1957 FAO figures of 2,750 cal/day as the mean human requirement and an energy estimate of 120 kcal/100g for rabbit meat.

56

Using an estimate of 7.41 rabbits per hectare, based on modern Australian and British rabbit densities, and a 30-40% cull rate, a 7,300 ha area would be necessary to feed 20 people per year. This area was within the 2-hour walk radius of both Parpalló and Les Mallaetes. Unlike Straus, Davidson anticipated optimal foraging concerns over hunting success rates. Again using modern rabbit control methods as a baseline, he estimated a 0.5 rabbits per hour procurement rate for the Paleolithic, which would mean the same 20 people would have to spend five hours per day hunting to subsist exclusively on rabbit (Davidson 1976). Adding the 2 hours’ walk each direction this would actually require 9 hours per day! Given these estimates, Davidson dismissed the possibility that rabbits were an important component of Upper Paleolithic subsistence in Spain. Obviously, rabbits were not the sole source of food as this model assumes. Davidson, Bailey and Straus all calculated the necessary amount of meat from a single species needed to fulfill daily caloric requirements. These single species-based hypothetical economies were used to estimate human population and evaluate dietary importance of resources. Each used FAO daily caloric requirement estimations. Straus modified these to account for the rigorous climatic conditions of the LGM. Bailey (1978) and Davidson (1976) used meat weight estimates to “test” small animal-based economies. These two conclude that neither rabbits nor shellfish could have been important regular components of prehistoric diets because to the extraordinary high numbers of each animal required to feed a person. For rabbits, hunters would have to capture 100-150 to equal the amount of meat from a single red deer. For shellfish, 1,000 cockles would be necessary to meet a single person’s daily caloric requirement, 150,000 to equal the meat from a single red deer.

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However, the assumption is that these single animals would be the sole food source. Furthermore, if either resource cannot reasonably sustain people for a day or year because the procurement costs would be too high or the sheer volume of meat necessary would be unattainable then they could not rank very high. In that case, despite the apparent abundance of their remains in the archaeological record, they should be ignored or considered as a biased numerical over-representation, a mere side note. These models are intended to serve as heuristic devices to understand past subsistence behavior. Single resource dominance in human diet is rare and usually occurs in extreme environments, if ever. Even in the French Upper Paleolithic reindeer did not comprise 100% of the diet. Its abundance may be a seasonal reflection, whether the “herd-follower” model is preferred or not. Furthermore, even though Davidson and Bailey show low meat weight percentages for rabbit and shellfish, ranking them low in the overall diet, the undeniable fact is that their remains do not just dominate assemblages, they swamp them in many cases. People went to some effort to procure them on a large scale. Why? Foraging model expectations and the BSR model would imply they were under stress from population/resource imbalance. However, as ethnographic studies have shown, resource rank does not always correspond to dietary proportion (Hawkes et al. 1991, 1997, 2001; Kaplan and Hill 1992). A broader nutritional perspective and/or one that considers women and children would provide a different answer. Red deer and ibex may have been highly valued resources for reasons other than provisioning hunters and their families. Rabbit, plants and shellfish being more easily gathered may have constituted the ‘daily bread’. Since the work by Davidson, a new generation of Spanish archaeologists have

58

continued the lines of research he set forth. The biggest revolution in Spanish archaeology has been the widespread focus on taphonomy. This field has especially grown with the excavations at the Sierra de Atapuerca where the largest collection of archaic human remains in Europe were unearthed and the Orce basin where the oldest hominids in Europe have been found. In addition the late dates for Neandertals in Iberia have necessitated detailed taphonomic studies of the caves and rockshelters yielding Neandertal remains and evidence of human behavior across the Middle-Upper Paleolithic transition. Current research suggests Neandertal and modern human populations lived in close proximity separated by the Ebro River in northern Spain for 10,000 years before modern forms replaced the Neandertals. The quality of these studies has led to an acceptance on the part of most European prehistorians that the Iberian Peninsula is a critical area to study the Middle-Upper Paleolithic transition and the dynamic interaction between two hominid populations. Emphasis on human behavior and taphonomy instead of typology and culture history has carried over into all aspects of Iberian prehistory. However, the theoretical framework for explaining past human behavior has not expanded beyond that provided by VitaFinzi, Higgs and Binford. General explanations of Upper Paleolithic subsistence and settlement patterns since Davidson’s work are based on the fundamentals of site catchment analysis, using meat weight as a measure of dietary importance and the Broad Spectrum Revolution model. The Davidson (1989) model of seasonal coastal-inland movement for Upper Paleolithic settlement patterns has been strengthened with data from additional recently excavated sites. This is discussed further in chapter 5.

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With regard to meat weight and estimating relative proportion of rabbit, shellfish and medium ungulates, Villaverde and Martínez Valle (1995) reiterate Davidson’s (1976, 1989) point that to get the same amount of kilocalories from a single red deer or ibex, one would have to procure 100-150 rabbits. Morales et al. (1998) provide a similar estimate as Bailey (1978) did for shellfish. Villaverde and Martínez Valle (1995) also characterize rabbit as a nutritionally poor resource for human consumption because of its low fat content. However, as Table 2.2 shows, rabbit contains more grams of protein and fat than red deer and in more balanced proportion. The main difference is package size. The methodological developments in Americanist zooarchaeology beginning with Binford (1981) have been almost completely ignored by most Spanish researchers. The sole exception is the work of Maria Fernanda Blasco Sancho (1995, 1997). Almost all faunal tables in site reports from the region present data in NISP. Occasionally, MNI are reported. Where skeletal element representation is considered, element frequencies are calculated by NISP, not MNE. The problems with this approach are discussed in further detail in chapter 5. Following Davidson (1976, 1989) several authors have argued for a trend towards resource intensification and diversification at the Pleistocene-Holocene transition (Aura Tortosa and Pérez Ripoll 1992, 1995; : Aura et al. 1998, 2001; Aura 2001a&b; Pérez Ripoll and Martínez Valle 2001; Villaverde and Martínez Valle 1992, 1995; Villaverde et al. 1998; Villaverde 2001). Aura and Pérez Ripoll (1992) initially argued that the high degree of rabbit exploitation in the Magdalenian was a sign of a broadened dietary spectrum. As Villaverde and Martínez Valle (1995) pointed out this level of exploitation is apparent as

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early as the Aurignacian in sites like Cova Beneito. Prior to Stiner et al. (2000), Villaverde and Martínez Valle (1995) considered differences between small game types. The changes in diet breadth at the end of the Pleistocene were not simply an inclusion of small game in general. Rather, faster moving, harder to catch small animals such as hares and birds were argued to signal greater dietary diversification as predicted by the Broad Spectrum Revolution and diet breadth models (Villaverde and Martínez Valle 1995). Villaverde et al. (1997) proposed a model for small game based on reduced mobility. Because rabbits are abundant and territorial, hunter-gatherers could have economically exploited them by reducing residential mobility. Thus, people may have become tethered to small game and possibly plants at the beginning of the Upper Paleolithic. Summary faunal tables for Cova de les Cendres based on NISP do show the rise in frequency of hares and birds in the Late Upper Paleolithic (Villaverde and Martínez Valle 1995). However, the numbers are extremely low: NISP of 10 hare bones in the Upper Solutrean to 45 in the Middle Magdalenian to 19 bones in the Upper Magdalenian. At Cova dels Blaus, hare NISP increase from 122 (13%) in the early levels V & IV (Upper Magdalenian/ Microlaminar Epipaleolithic) to 287 (16.6%) in level III (Microlaminar Epipaleolithic) to 92 (16%) in levels II & I (Villaverde and Martínez Valle 1995). The rise in the proportion of hares is very slight and does not appear to represent a significant dietary shift across the Pleistocene-Holocene transition. Aura Tortosa and Pérez Ripoll (1992) show an actual cumulative decrease in birds from the Upper Magdalenian to the Geometric Epipaleolithic. Total NISP for birds in Mediterranean Spain is 537 (2% of the total) in the Upper Magdalenian, 285 (2%) in the Microlaminar Epipaleolithic and 14 (0.7%) in the

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Geometric Epipaleolithic. Again, this casts doubt on the use of hares and birds as indicators of a diachronic trend towards diversification for this period. A longer perspective including the Gravettian and Solutrean suggests some validity due to the absence of hares from the sites in Mediterranean Spain. A variety of birds (at least 18 species) and fish are present in the Solutrean levels of l’Arbreda (Éstevez 1987; García Petit 1995, 1997; Muñoz and Casadevall 1997). The highest frequency and greatest diversity of fish were found in the Gravettian and Solutrean levels. Fish numbers decreased significantly in the level dated to the coldest period of the LGM (Muñoz and Casadevall 1997). Morales et al. (1998) have succinctly characterized the consensus view of Late Upper Paleolithic subsistence in Iberia as the ‘Tardiglacial paradigm,’ namely that resource intensification and diversification began sometime during the Solutrean. In their study of marine resources at Cueva de Nerja, the primary features include: (1) a diversification of subsistence strategies through time (2) an increasing reliance on aquatic resources (3) evidence of the progressive approach of the coastline which, after a threshold being reached, would allow the cave dwellers to exploit resources which were previously too far away for systematic cropping (4) an indication of changes in settlement strategies which, among other things, meant that resources which were previously consumed in open-air camps at the seashore started having wider patterns of distributions throughout the areas under study (Morales et al. 1998: 41).

Unfortunately, there is no definitive Solutrean occupation of Nerja and the Aurignacian and undifferentiated Early Upper Paleolithic levels contained very few faunal specimens

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(Jordá 1986; Morales et al. 1998). Therefore, conclusions about diachronic trends are untestable at Nerja. Despite the inter-site variability and the differences in the nature and timing of the inclusion of small animal resources in the diet, a consensus has been reached among Spanish archaeologists that resource intensification and diversification characterize subsistence changes in the Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic archaeological record of Mediterranean Spain. In contrast with Straus and Clark for Cantabria, the suggested mechanism for this development is not demographic pressure (Aura and Pérez Ripoll 1992; Aura et al. 2002). Higher regional population is hinted at by the expanded use of upper elevations and increased number of sites, but it is not explicitly stated as a causal mechanism. Instead, reduced mobility and an integration of rabbit, and presumably, other resources into hunter-gatherer economic systems after the appearance of modern humans is the reason given. The work in Cantabria and Meditearanean Spain has had an important impact on research in central Portugal. Many of the assumptions from the meat weight studies and the Broad Spectrum Revolution model have been incorporated into models developed by archaeologists working in this region. These studies are discussed in the following section.

3.2 Central Portugal Portuguese Estremadura is a coastal region of approximately 8,700 km2, located between 40° and 38°30' north latitude, encompassing the political provinces of Estremadura, Ribatejo, and part of Beira Litoral (Figure 1.2). It is bounded to the north by the Mondego

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River and to the south by the Tejo River, though some argue it extends to the Sado River. On the eastern boundary lies the Serra da Estrela, a schist and granite mountain rising up to 2000m. The region is characterized by a limestone massif, rising up to 650m, with maquis or garriques vegetation and karstic caves (Zilhão 1990). Natural vegetation is a mix of Atlantic and Mediterranean species, with the latter dominant. Estremadura is interspersed with montane islands surrounded by plains and valleys, under continuous cultivation of olive, wine grape, and fruit trees. Eucalyptus plantations are rapidly replacing pine forests of the region. Deep plowing for eucalyptus has greatly benefited archaeological survey for open-air paleolithic sites.

Recent models Table 3.1 shows the chrono-stratigraphic framework for the Portuguese Magdalenian. In general, this period is characterized by microblade tool production based on a variety of core types. The chronological divisions of the Magdalenian are based on differing frequencies of these types through time. For the Upper Paleolithic of Portugal, Zilhão (1990, 1995), Bicho (1994, 1996), Thacker (1996) and Shokler (1995) have proposed models based on lithic technology and raw material economy, distribution of sites, and limited faunal data. Each model suffers from a lack of crucial data on subsistence and seasonality. Until the excavation of Lapa do Picareiro, reconstructions of Upper Paleolithic subsistence relied on paleontological collections, taxonomic lists from sites excavated in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and a few unpublished or partially published sites excavated in the last few decades.

Boreal Mesolithic

Final Magdalenian (Carneira facies)

Final Magdalenian (Rossio do Cabo facies) Bairrada Bocas Carneira Olival da Carneira Picareiro Vascas




 

bp








bp







bp

 




bp

Buraca Grande CPM Caldeirão Picareiro Vale da Mata Vascas Suão Pinhal da Carneira Rossio do Cabo

Upper Magdalenian







bp




 

bp

Cerrado Novo Vascas

Early Magdalenian (Cerrado Novo facies)

 





bp

hiatus

Cabeço do Porto Marinho (CPM) Caldeirão

Early Magdalenian (CPM facies)

cores mainly on thick scrapers; microliths   Dufour bladelets Areeiro bladelets and marginally backed bladelets

significant blade production; bladelet cores mainly on burins; microliths 
 geometrics (trapezes and segments)

cores mainly on burins; microliths  Dufour bladelets Areeiro bladelets and marginally backed bladelets

similar to CPM facies; microliths 
 bladelets and backed points most on burin spalls

no sites dated to the Middle Magdalenian

Prismatic and thick endscraper cores near absence of cores on burins; microliths 
 Dufour bladelets Areeiro bladelets and marginally backed bladelets

Various types of cores including prismatic bladelet cores burins on flake or cortical blanks but few on thick scrapers; backed microliths are 
 backed bladelets

Table : Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic chronostratigraphy after Zilhão ( ab)

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Despite these limitations each model uses a Binfordian framework for describing the nature of settlement patterns. Though few sites in Estremadura fulfill the expectations of a residential camp based on size, studies of lithic assemblages by Zilhão and Thacker led to the classification of a number of sites as ‘residential base camps.’ For the Magdalenian, Zilhão (1997) considers the open-air sites Bairrada, Cabeço do Proto Marinho (CPM), Cerrado Novo and Olival da Carneira to be ‘base camps’ (Figure 3.2). This was based on their location in strategic places on the landscape and the occurrence of a high diversity of tool types in all stages of manufacturing. Unfortunately, none of these contained preserved faunal remains. In contrast, none of the fauna-bearing sites could be classified as residential sites. All are in small caves or rockshelters that were likely used as hunting camps or butchery/processing sites. However, Zilhão (1995) has suggested Caldeirão functioned as a base camp throughout the Upper Paleolithic. The lack of long-term residences does not mean that hunter-gatherers during the Late Pleistocene employed an exclusively “foraging” strategy. Considering lithic raw material procurement and tool manufacturing during the Magdalenian, Thacker (1996, 2000) argued in favor of a foraging pattern. Whereas flint cores were prepared at lithic quarry sites during the Gravettian, whole cobbles were brought to sites 1-2 km away during the Magdalenian. Furthermore, Thacker (2000) argues that the decreases in local quartz and quartzite use suggests greater residential mobility during the Gravettian than the Magdalenian since base camps would contain a wider range of raw material if they were occupied for long periods. The fact that Magdalenian assemblages are dominated by flint as opposed to Gravettian ones may suggest a collector pattern for the latter and a forager one for the former. On the other

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N Buraca Grande

Atlantic Ocean

Caldeirão Picareiro Costa do Pereiro Lapa dos Coelhos

Bairrada CPM Bocas

Vascas O de Carneira

Lapa do Suão

Cerrado Novo

Rossio do Cabo Vale da Mata

Lisboa





m  

m





km






Figure  : Magdalenian sites in Portuguese Estremadura

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hand, Bicho argues for a collector settlement pattern during the Final Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic simply because specialized task sites appear more frequently. The presence of specialized task sites may not necessarily indicate greater logistical mobility if these fall within the foraging radius of a residential site. The analysis of CPM V and Carneira, two open-air sites in the Rio Maior valley, showed variability in raw material use during the Late Magdalenian (Bicho 1994). Carneira, located less than 2 km from flint sources contained 95% flint while CPM V, located 2.5 km from a source, had about 75% with local quartz and quartzite making up the rest. This suggests that distance to flint sources influenced decision-making. According to Zilhão (1997), Carneira was probably an intermittent camp while CPM was likely a base camp. The data on lithic raw material from each agrees with Thacker’s assertion that base camps should have greater raw material diversity. Zilhão (1995, 2000) has drawn on the Selk’ nam or Ona of Tierra del Fuego as a source of analogy for central Portugal during the Late Pleistocene. He argues that this is appropriate because the Ona occupied an environment analogous to Portuguese Estremadura during the Last Glacial Maximum and a territory similar in size. They hunted a medium ungulate and small rodent roughly equal in size to red deer and the European rabbit, ubiquitous in the Upper Paleolithic of Portugal. The model uses carrying capacity estimates derived by Straus (1986) for Cantabria and Bailey et al. (1983) for Epirus. Using their estimate of 0.05 people/km2 and a minimum band size of 25, there may have been 20-24 microbands in Estremadura with territories of 400-500 km2. Zilhão (1995) also noted a diachronic shift in settlement patterns between the

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Gravettian and Magdalenian in Estremadura. Both industries are characterized by retouched microliths. The site types discernible in the Gravettian include specialized workshop sites, specialized logistic sites and generalized residential sites. However, Magdalenian assemblages exhibit a greater homogeneity leading to the conclusion that a forager settlement pattern was in place. This was also argued by Thacker (2000). After 16,000 bp, when climate appears to have rapidly ameliorated, Magdalenian hunter-gatherers began specializing on red deer and rabbit. According to Lee (1969), who relied on Murdock’s Ethnographic Atlas, the Ona derive 80% of the diet from animals: 60% terrestrial game, 20% fishing. Therefore, one could argue that while plants were utilized in both cases, their overall dietary contribution was minimal and the appropriate focus for subsistence study is on animal resources. Zilhão (1997) has divided Estremadura into three hypothetical territories based on river drainages, site clusters and symbolic differences. These are based on three (and possibly four) site clusters in Estremadura: the Cambelas area immediately north of Lisbon near the city of Torres Vedra including the Rio Maior area at the foot of the Serra de Candeeiros, the Massif area encompassing the Serras de Aire and Candeeiros, and Mondego river area on the northern edge of Estremadura and bounded by the Serra do Sico on the east. Each area encompasses approximately 4,000 km2 which is roughly equivalent to the Tierra del Fuego case. Each exhibit the same subsistence regime and technology during the Upper Paleolithic. Perforated shell ornaments from Littorina obtusata are prevalent and there is limited evidence for red ochre. The primary reason for the delineation, other than the clustering which is almost certainly artificial, is the presence of perforated red

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deer phalanges at Caldeirão in the Massif area an their absence to the south and north. However, the bilaterally perforated red deer phalanges could be interpreted as examples of carnivore tooth punctures. Thus, there may be no real basis for delineating cultural or paleoethnographic boundaries in Estremadura using the presence or absence or portable art.

Bicho model Subsistence Another model of subsistence and settlement during the Final Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic of Portugal comes from syntheses by Bicho (1993, 1994, 1996) and Bicho and Haws (1996). Paleoenvironmental changes during the Tardiglacial were relatively minor but still induced fluctuations in the availability of ibex, chamois and red deer. Between 15,000 and 10,500 years ago, a general warming trend led to the replacement of ibex and chamois by red deer, wild boar, aurochs, and rabbit in the faunal assemblages of Caldeirão (200 m asl) and Lapa do Picareiro (500 m asl). The recovery of chamois at Picareiro suggests elevational changes in the biogeographical distribution of this species as a result of climate change, which seems to be confirmed by its absence at Caldeirão. By 10,500 bp, diversification is apparent in the addition of marine and estuarine shellfish found in coastal middens as well as caves 35- 50 km from the coast. Shell middens are known from Gruta do Casal Papagaio, Pena da Mira, Bocas, and Cabeço de Curral Velho (Araújo 1995; Arnaud and Bento 1988; Arnaud 1993; Bicho 1993b, 1994b). Perforated ornamental shells and edible species of bivalves have been recovered from contemporary

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N Buraca Grande

Atlantic Ocean

Casal Papagaio Marmaleiro Picareiro Pena de Mira

Pena d'Agua

CPM Bocas Lapa do Suão

Areeiro III Carneira

Toledo Ponte da Vigia Cabeço do Curral Velho São Julião Magoito Penha Verde Lisboa Quinta da Bicuda Ponte de Cabadelo 



m  

m





km






Figure : Epipaleolithic/Early Mesolithic sites in Portuguese Estremadura

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levels at Lapa do Picareiro (Bicho and Haws 1996). Fish has been identified at Lapa do Suão, Caldeirão, and Picareiro (Bicho 1994b; Roche 1979, 1982; Zilhão 1992a, 1992b, 1993). The coastal shell middens of Toledo, Magoito, São Julião, located in sand dunes, have been dated to the Pleistocene-Holocene boundary (Bicho 1994b; Daveau et al. 1982). A surface scatter of Epipaleolithic lithics and mollusc shells has been documented at Quinta da Bicuda, but the association is in doubt (Carvalho, 1996). There are also shell middens known from Alentejo (Pedra do Patacho) and Algarve (Castelejo) that date to this period (Bicho 1994b; Bicho and Haws 1996; Soares and Da Silva 1993; Vierra 1995). In summary, dietary data suggested similarities between central Portugal and northern Spain. The observed pattern in both regions is characterized by gradual subsistence intensification through specialization and diversification at the end of the Pleistocene (Hayden 1981). Specialization was based on the presence of hunting sites with faunal assemblages dominated by red deer and aurochs (Bocas), and rabbit (Picareiro). However, it is not likely to have been as important as it was in northern Spain (Bicho and Haws 1996; Straus 1992, 1995). During the Preboreal and Boreal (10,000-8,000 bp), an increase in dietary diversity is seen by the inclusion of birds and aquatic resources such as fish, cockle, oysters, clams, mussels, limpets, and top shell. Besides animal resources, plant foods such as fruits, nuts, seeds, and berries were likely used. The appearance of grinding stones in the Gravettian and Magdalenian suggested that dietary diversity was an important component of hunter-gatherer adaptations throughout the Upper Paleolithic (Bicho and Haws 1996; Hockett and Haws 2002b). Settlement

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According to the model, there are two discernible phases of settlement patterns in Portuguese Estremadura. The first phase corresponds to the Early, Middle and Late Magdalenian, while the second phase corresponds to the Epipaleolithic, starting around 10,500 bp (Figures 3.2 & 3.3) (Bicho and Haws 1996). During the first phase, there were three major areas of occupation, two inland near Rio Maior and Torres Novas, and one coastal near Torres Vedras. These are equivalent to those outlined by Zilhão (1997). Sites appear to be preferentially located on the flat plains found in the river valleys. These areas were likely a mosaic of forested and open woodlands providing ideal habitat for large herbivores such as horse, red deer, wild boar and aurochs. In the inland limestone Massif cave sites, Picareiro and Caldeirão, red deer, caprids and rabbit were the main prey species (Bicho 1994b; Zilhão 1992). These are thought to represent short-term logistical extraction sites used by small groups of hunters who made forays from residential camps in the valleys, now mostly buried under Holocene alluvium and colluvium. An increase in the number of sites from 20 in the first phase (an average of 3/1000 years) to almost 40 in the second phase (an average of 16/1000 years) characterizes the second settlement phase. Additionally, there was an increase in the number of primary areas of occupation used by the Epipaleolithic hunter-gatherers, including coastal areas to the south of the Tagus and Sado Rivers in Alentejo. The types of sites found during this period include the shell-bearing inland caves and rockshelters, coastal shell middens, and open-air sites on the flat plains of the interior river valleys (Bicho and Haws 1996). The maritime resources brought to the cave/rockshelter sites show clear evidence for trips to

73

and from the coast. Expansion into previously unoccupied Alentejo by Epipaleolithic hunter-gatherers suggested a rise in regional population. The sharp change in settlement system was argued to be a result of demographic expansion similar to northern Spain (Straus and Clark 1986). However, ‘expansion’ may not be the proper term. As Zilhão (1990) has pointed out, the estimated 12,000 km2 area of Estremadura during the Solutrean was enough to support a maximum band of almost 500 people if one accepts the proposed Upper Paleolithic population density of 0.04 people/km2 (Cohen 1977; Wobst 1974). If this were the case, then rising sea level in the Late Pleistocene may have had a significant impact on human groups by shrinking the size of available land area by 25% to 8,700 km2 (Perlman 1980). This, in turn, may explain the expansion of human occupation out of Estremadura into Alentejo during the Epipaleolithic. Demographic expansion has also been put forth as an explanation for the Mesolithic land use and settlement system (Straus et al. 1990). It is unclear whether there were periods of punctuated population growth or a more gradual trend of increasing population, that led to changes in settlement patterns. In fact, there may never have been any significant increases in population (Hayden 1981a). The increases in numbers of sites may have resulted from increasing logistical settlement patterns, which would have simply created more types of sites (Binford 1980; Straus 1991c). It may also be that the sites from earlier periods are simply buried in marine sediments off the coast or were destroyed by wave action during the sea level rise. Until more sites are found through systematic survey and more is known about the effect regional geomorphological changes may have had on site preservation, these ideas remain to be tested.

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Discussion The Cantabrian and Mediterranean cases have important implications for explaining Late Upper Paleolithic adaptations in Portugal. The models for central Portugal discussed above point to a similar trend of increasing specialization and diversification in central Portugal (Zilhão 1992; Bicho 1993, 1994; Bicho and Haws, 1996). But when the Cantabrian data are considered several questions become apparent. First, does the presence of marine fauna and small game in the Late Upper Paleolithic of central Portugal mean that populations were stressed and forced to broaden their niche? Alternatively, was it based on choices made to exploit reliable resources and thus reduce risk as was implied for Mediterranean Spain? A second problem concerns plant consumption during the Upper Paleolithic in central Portugal. The excavation of El Juyo in Cantabria and Nerja in Andalucía has shed some light on this problem in Spain (Freeman et al. 1988; Badal 1998). However, the lack of data has led to only brief remarks acknowledging the likelihood of plant consumption in central Portugal (Bicho 1993; Zilhão 1997). No attempts have been made to understand the factors involved in plant exploitation which, in the absence of substantial direct evidence, ought to begin with an understanding of human nutritional requirements, ethnographic observations of recent hunter-gatherers, consideration of plant availability through paleoenvironmental reconstruction and information on the nutritional benefits and productive yields of edible wild plants. Third, models of intensification and specialization were based on the percentages of

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various animal taxa in each site and preliminary indications from faunal analyses of key sites such as Caldeirão and Picareiro. Detailed faunal analyses of assemblages from Picareiro and Suão caves are presented in the next section for the first time. These data are compared to the record from Mediterranean Spain where similar environmental conditions and human adaptations occurred during the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene. Afterwards, the previous models are evaluated using the results presented here.

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Part II: Prehistoric diet and subsistence

Reconstructing past subsistence necessitates an understanding of the availability of edible plants and animals and a means of estimating the proportions of these incorporated into the diet. The former is usually accomplished by paleoecological studies, archaeofaunal and archaeobotanical studies. The latter usually relies on ethnographic and experimental data and theoretical models such as those discussed in Chapter 2. Essentially, archaeologists have two major means of studying prehistoric diets: (1) archaeological remains, in this case archaeofaunal and floral remains, and (2) human bone chemistry, mainly stable isotopes and trace elements. Indirectly, paleoenvironmental reconstructions based on pollen diagrams, charcoal analysis, micromammal assemblages, deep sea foramininfera and general circulation models can enable resource availability modeling. The ‘Man the Hunter’ conference and volume revolutionized archaeologists’ perceptions of hunter-gatherers. It destroyed the long held assumption dating back to Hobbes that hunter-gatherers worked exceptionally hard to eke out a living on wild plants and animals. Lee and DeVore (1968) were successful in demonstrating how well huntergatherers lived even in the most marginal environments on the planet. Even though it is widely cited, to the point that almost every paper on hunter-gatherers begins with a statement, “…ever since ‘Man the Hunter’…,” many of the important ideas from the volume have been ignored or reinterpreted. Perhaps the main reason behind this is the adoption of foraging theory in ethnographic and archaeological studies. The “affluent” San, who

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spent very little time in the food quest are now “marginal” or “suboptimal” because they are forced to subsist off of “low-ranked”plants for the majority of their diet with the occasional large game animal. Hawkes and O’Connell (1985) “exposed” the mongongo nut dilemma by pointing out the high processing costs involved. However, even with high processing costs offsetting the caloric gain (thus resulting in lower return rates) the fact remains that the San still do not spend much time gathering and processing food. There must be some other reason behind this. As foraging theory is applied to archaeological cases, large game animals are generally considered the highest ranked resource. Logical arguments suggest and empirical data from experimental and ethnographic settings demonstrate (see Broughton 1994b for references and discussion) that, for singly-handled animal prey, post-encounter return rates are generally scaled to prey body mass. Among Holocene North American vertebrates in particular, the larger the animal, the higher the post-encounter return rate. This fact, combined with the proposition that overall foraging return rates declined in the late Holocene, leads to the prediction that lowranked (smaller-sized) vertebrates should have become more important in human diets at this time... (Broughton and O’Connell 1999: 155). Accordingly, if people are subsisting only occasionally on large game and mostly plants or small animals, then they are acting suboptimally or living in a poor environment. This marginalization is due primarily to over-harvesting of high-ranked game, also known as resource depression, or possibly some other feature that has lowered the return rate for the highest ranked resource, thus forcing people to add a previously uneaten, lower ranked resource. Theorists consistently make the point that no matter how abundant a resource becomes a forager will not adopt it unless a higher ranked resource no longer provides the high return rate. Therefore, regions with generalized hunter-gatherer diets probably reflect low frequencies of highly ranked resources, most often large game. Either the

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environment is ‘poor’ to begin with or resource depression has occurred due to climate change or over-harvesting. Broadly speaking, archaeologists studying Paleolithic and Mesolithic subsistence in Europe take for granted specialized large game hunting economies in the former and the generalized Broad Spectrum Adaptation in the latter. This is due to a number of reasons such as a biased archaeological record of animal bones taken as an accurate reflection of past human diet, theoretical emphasis on energy-based foraging models and the intensity of research in areas where glacial climatic conditions curtailed plant productivity. There is an underlying assumption that holds human diet became much more meat-focused early in human evolution arguably related to brain evolution and colonization of temperate Eurasian latitudes (Isaac and Crader 1981; Milton 1987; Aiello and Wheeler 1995; Rolland 1998; Stiner 2002). This trend culminated in the hunting economies of Middle and Upper Paleolithic peoples in Eurasia. Plants, aquatic resources and small game entered the diet only after large game populations became depressed due to hunting pressures brought on by ever-increasing Pleistocene human populations. Recent stable isotope and trace element studies lend support to the idea that Neandertals were highly carnivorous while early modern humans ate a slightly more diverse diet (Bocherens et al. 1991, 1995, 1999; Richards et al. 2000a&b, 2001). The explanations for this difference include population pressure forcing humans to expand their diets (Stiner 2001), niche differences between two competing human populations (Smith 2002), and nutritional decisions resulting in greater reproductive success (Hockett and Haws, in press). Southern Europe has been called a “refugium” for temperate-loving plants and animals

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by many authors (e.g., Straus 1991). Because of the focus on the Franco-Cantabrian region, researchers often follow the explanatory framework utilized for northern Europe (Straus 1996). Ironically, the Broad Spectrum Revolution of the northern European Mesolithic occurred at the same time the climate improved, whereas it occurred earlier in southern Europe and the Near East where Late Pleistocene climate was much less severe and the scale of environmental change less dramatic. This is argued to reflect differences in the timing of population pulses (Stiner 2001). However, low population densities were not the reason Upper Paleolithic sites in northern Europe lack hazel nutshells. Hazel shrubs simply were not present. In the south, especially Iberia, temperate and Mediterranean plant and animal species were always present but in differing proportions. Unfortunately, Upper Paleolithic people in Portugal did not bury their dead in geologic contexts suitable to preservation making stable isotope and trace element studies impossible. With the exception of a few isolated teeth and skeletal fragments from about four sites, the only intact burial is that of the alleged hybrid child from Lagar Velho (Duarte et al. 1999). Since this skeleton is of a four year old child it may not be representative of the “average” person’s diet. That said, the nearby and possibly contemporaneous (at least in gross terms), hearth contains abundant ungulate and even marine mammal (dolphin) remains which provide glimpse of a diverse early Upper Paleolithic diet and coastal/ inland movement pattern. Given the lack of human remains, the only current approach to the direct study of Upper Paleolithic subsistence in Portugal is the archaeofaunal and botanical record. The record is biased entirely in favor of animal bones, so inferences about plant use can only

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be made by generating hypotheses using indirect sources of palynological and anthracological (charcoal) data, ethnographic observations of “modern” hunter-gatherers, foraging theory and human nutritional ecology. Taxonomic lists of fauna from archaeological and paleontological sites and plant inventories from pollen diagrams and charcoal analyses can provide a potential range of available food resources to prehistoric people. Seasonality studies do not simply tell when a site was occupied, but permit models of seasonal mobility when combined with resource availability estimates and nutritional yield data. Detailed taphonomic studies of faunal assemblages provide more accurate pictures of resource use and site function. Together these approaches allow a better understanding of subsistence and settlement patterns than those based solely on technological organization and site location. In the following chapters, paleoenvironmental data and the regional archaeological record are used to evaluate plant resource use through the lenses of taphonomy, foraging theory and nutritional ecology. Data on animal resource use from the faunal-bearing sites in Estremadura are then used to understand the nature of large and small game utilization, site function, and temporal trends from the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene.

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Chapter 4: A Western Mediterranean perspective on Upper Paleolithic plant consumption

4.1 Plant use by prehistoric Mediterranean hunter-gatherers David Clarke, in his essay “Mesolithic Europe: The Economic Basis” (1976), challenged the “meat fixation” of archaeologists and highlighted the potential for intensive plant use in Europe prior to the introduction of agriculture. He argued that plants likely made up 60-80% of the diet of prehistoric hunter-gatherers in Europe. Indeed, ethnographically known hunter-gatherers in temperate regions incorporate such percentages of plants in their diet (Kelly 1995). The only area where meat completely dominates is the Arctic, where the lack of edible plants during much of the year leaves little choice. Even in this extreme, people are known to eat the contents of reindeer stomachs and exchange meat for seaweed with coastal peoples (Clark 1952). Even still, this may only reflect a seasonal aspect of subsistence. The notion that meat would comprise 90% of the diet during the Upper Paleolithic or Mesolithic seems unfounded given these facts about modern huntergatherers and the nutritional problems associated with excess protein consumption. Recent stable isotope analyses suggest such a meat-focused diet in Britain during the LGM (Richards et al. 2000), although one could argue that this is merely analogous to the Arctic case and is not the “rule” for all of Europe during this period. Much of Iberia, especially Mediterranean Spain and Portugal, never experienced dramatically cold extremes except in mountain zones. Therefore, it seems reasonable to assume a high degree of plant exploitation in this part of Europe at least as far back as the LGM and likely farther. Even

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at the Cantabrian Magdalenian site El Juyo, where climatic and environmental conditions were cooler and less-vegetated, Freeman et al. (1988) reported plant macrofossil remains from 21 families and 51 genera. These included acorn and hazelnut fragments, berry pits, grass seeds and aquatic plants. During this same period, prehistoric Mediterranean huntergatherers would have had access to a wide variety of plants including oak acorns, hazelnuts, wild tree fruits, berries, edible bulbs, grass seeds, and legumes. Interestingly, the potential for plant exploitation during the Upper Paleolithic has never received due attention (Mason et al. 1994). The focus has always been on the animal remains from archaeological sites. Most authors discussing Paleolithic subsistence either do not mention plants or suggest they would have been eaten when available and then dismiss the significance of their contribution to prehistoric diet and subsistence economies. Many researchers have argued that plants were not regularly exploited because the Late Pleistocene environments of Europe were too extreme to permit stable plant communities. Richerson et al. (2001) have recently suggested that low global CO2 levels during the Late Pleistocene kept plant productivity suppressed thus making plants unattractive to human foragers. They further argued that plant-based diets would have taken a long time to develop and that frequent climatic oscillations made long-term adaptations to plant resources unlikely. Stiner and Kuhn (2001) have also argued that intensive plant exploitation is only visible archaeologically at the end of the Pleistocene when stone processing technology appears, namely grinding stones. This echoes Hayden’s (1981) earlier claims. Clarke’s (1976) model for the Mesolithic might have been more acceptable to

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archaeologists working in that period because the Early Holocene was precisely the time that the Broad Spectrum Revolution was said to have occurred. For the Upper Paleolithic, the ‘meat fixation’ was unchallenged. The main obstacles are the acceptance of energy as the appropriate currency to measure human subsistence choices and the invisibility of plants and the technology used to process them in the archaeological record. As discussed in chapter 2, Kelly (1995) and others have argued that animal resources are usually better sources of energy than plants. In general, plants are viewed as low-ranked resources because they often have high percentages of inedible cellulose and/or toxins that must be removed prior to human consumption. The high processing costs outweigh their ease of collection and natural abundance when caloric value is relatively low. Since most foraging models consider all foragers equal, plants usually rank low. Some argue that any nutrient value will be greatly diminished or lost entirely during processing. However, as Stahl (1989) has pointed out, processing plants does not necessarily mean there will be nutrient loss. In many cases, toxins must be removed, thus increasing the nutritional value. Cooking may increase certain nutrient values in plants (Wandsnider 1997; Wrangham et al. 1999). In some cases, the processing costs may be offset by the benefits of nutrient increase although there is only qualitative data to support this because foraging modelers equate processing with nutrient loss (Stahl 1989). Many authors have assumed that extensive and intensive plant exploitation began with the appearance of grinding stone technology widely used to process seeds and nuts (Hayden 1981; Kuhn and Stiner 2001). However, recent reports show unaltered stone tools are used by chimpanzees in Africa to crack open nuts (Mercader et al. 2002). The

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Lower Paleolithic site of Gesher Benot Ya’aqov has nut-cracking stones associated with several species of nuts (Goren-Inbar et al. 2002). Thus, stone tools have been used to process plants for a considerable time. Proponents would likely counter that these are simple tools which require minimal labor input and that intensive plant processing, especially seeds, was only made possible when grinding stones were invented. Still, this should not be considered a requisite for intensive plant exploitation. The fact is that many recent hunter-gatherers used perishable wooden implements to pound seeds and nuts (Lee 1979; Stahl 1989). Even stone sickle blades are not necessary to harvest wild grains, as pointed out by Madella et al. (2002) in their study of plant exploitation at the Middle Paleolithic site of Amud in Israel. Another problem with plant visibility is the lack of preservation. Mason et al. (1994) have called for greater attention to recovering plant remains from Paleolithic sites. The main problem is that most plant foods would leave little trace in many sites. Preserved plant food remains have never been found in Upper Paleolithic sites in Portugal, but they have been recovered in archaeological sites around the Mediterranean. Numerous charred pine nut cones and shells were found in Middle Paleolithic hearths at Vanguard and Gorham’s Caves in Gibraltar (Gale and Carruthers 2000) and throughout the Upper Paleolithic sequence at Cueva de Nerja (Badal 1998, 2001). Magdalenian and Epipaleolithic levels of Nerja also contained acorns and wild olive pits (Aura et al. 1998). Also in Spain, Freeman (1981) reported charred grass and vetch seeds from Abric Agut, which has now been radiometrically dated to the Pleistocene-Holocene transition (Vaquero et al. 2002). In Greece, Koumouzelis et al. (2002) found evidence for seed-bearing grasses including

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Chenopodium and Polygonum, Silene and other typical Mediterranean plants in the Aurignacian site, Klisoura Cave. Plant foods were recovered from Upper Paleolithic levels at Franchti Cave (Hansen 1978). At Ohalo II in Israel, Kislev et al. (1992) reported acorns and several other plants dated to 19,000 bp. Evidence for the consumption of hazelnut, wild fruit and several legumes in the Early Holocene has been found at Balma Arbeurador in France, dated to 8,740 bp (Vaquer et al. 1986). In Catalunya at Cingle Vermell (dated 9,760 bp) numerous remains of hazelnuts, acorns, pine nuts, chestnuts and wild fruits have been recovered (Vila i Mitja, 1985). Nearby, at Roc del Migdia (7,000-9,000 bp), Holden et al. (1995) have identified hazel shell, sloe and parenchymatous tissue of roots, tubers and edible aquatic plants. In the Basque country of Spain, Peña (2000) has reported on Mesolithic and Neolithic wild plant gathering. In several sites hazelnuts, acorns and wild tree fruits were common in both periods. Olària et al. (1988) reported pine nuts, acorns and chestnuts at Cova Fosca (9,460 bp). At the Mesolithic site, Grotta dell’Uzzo, in Sicily wild peas, acorns and arbutus fruits were recovered (Costantini 1989). These examples illustrate the widespread prehistoric use and richness of edible plant resources in the Mediterranean region. The rest of this chapter focuses on the Iberian Peninsula with primary emphasis on Portugal. Again, the central region of Estremadura is the center of attention as this area of Portugal is the best known.

4.2 Plant resources in Iberia Present-day climate and vegetation in Portugal Several forces determine the climate of Portugal and create its mixed Atlantic and

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Mediterranean environment. In the winter, the Polar Jet descends into the North Atlantic and brings storms across the ocean to Iberia. In the summer, the Azores High pressure cell keeps moisture from penetrating southward, thus creating the summer dry season. Annual rainfall varies from 1000-2000 mm in northern Portugal to 300 mm in the south. The central coastal regions average about 600-700 mm annually. In most of the country, the majority of the precipitation falls between October and March. Average winter temperatures range from 8-12° C on the northern coast to about 16° C in the south. The interior north and montane areas temperatures often fall below freezing in winter. Summer temperatures range from average highs of 25-28° C near the coast to as high as 40° C in the interior. In Estremadura, winters are cool and wet while summers are warm and dry. On the Iberian Peninsula, the Euro-Siberian vegetation typical of temperate Europe occurs along the northern strip from the Basque country in the northeast to northern tip of Portugal in the west. The rest of the peninsula is covered by Mediterranean-type vegetation. Rivas-Martinez (1982) divided the Mediterranean vegetation into étages or levels based on altitudinal zonation. Most of Portugal falls within the meso-Mediterranean zone, which in its natural state is characterized by evergreen oak forest. The typical species are listed in Table 4.2. In central Portugal, meso-Mediterranean tree and shrub communities are found in varying proportions depending on exposure, soils and altitude. Agriculture, intentional planting and timber harvesting over several millennia have dramatically altered the natural vegetation communities. No truly wild places exist any longer. Some areas have been protected for several centuries and their composition provides the best model for the natural distribution of trees and shrubs. In these places, the evergreen oaks, Stone

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Table : Mediterranean bioclimatic altitudinal zones Bioclimatic étages Altimediterranean

Average annual temp ° C

Average low winter temp  ° C

Average high winter temp 
° C

Thermic Index  


Oromediterranean

 ° C

  ° C


 ° C


 


Supramediterranean

 ° C

 ° C

 ° C


 


Mesomediterranean

  ° C

 ° C

 ° C


 


Thermomediterranean

  ° C

 
° C

  ° C


 


After RivasMartinez ( ) cited in Vernet ( )

N

Atlantic Ocean

Mediterranean Sea






km

 EuroSiberian  SupraMediterranean  MesoMediterranean  ThermoMediterranean

Figure : Map of bioclimatic zones in Iberia

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Table  : Some presentday trees and shrubs native to Portugal SupraMediterranean Latin name English name vegetation trees Quercus pyrenaica Pyrenean oak Q robur common oak Q faginea Portuguese oak Pinus pinaster Maritime pine Castanea sativa chestnut Sorbus aucuparia Rowan ash Alnus glutinosa alder Prunus avium wild cherry Betula celtiberica birch Ulmus minor elm wetland trees Fraxinus angustifolia ash Salix sp willow Populus alba poplar shrubs

MesoMediterranean vegetation trees

wetland trees

shrubs

Juniperus communis Taxus baccata Prunus spinosa Corylus avellana Ilex aquifolium Cytisus sp Erica sp Genista sp

juniper yew sloe hazel holly broom heath

Quercus ilex Q suber Q coccifera Q faginea Pinus pinaster P pinea Phillyrea latifolia Acer monspessulanum Arbutus unedo Olea europaea var sylvestris Buxus sempervirens Acer pseudoplatanus Laurus nobilis Salix sp Fraxinus angustifolia Populus alba Ulmus sp Sambucus nigra Juniper oxycedrus Erica arborea Myrtus communis Rhamnus alaternus

Holm oak cork oak Kermes oak Portuguese oak Maritime pine Stone pine privet Montpellier maple wild strawberry wild olive

Pistacia lentiscus Jasminum fruticans Asparagus albus Rosmarinus officinalis Viburnum tinis

box sycamore laurel willow ash poplar elm elderberry prickly juniper tree heath myrtle Mediterranean buckthorn mastic wild jasmine asparagus rosemary laurustinus

Portuguese name carvalhonegral carvalhoroble carvalhocerquinho pinheirobravo castanheiro tramazeira amieiro cerejeirabrava vidoeiro ulmeiro freixo salgueiro zimbro teixo aveiro azevinho urze piornais azinheira sobreiro carrasco carvalhocerquinho pinheirobravo pinheiromanso pelo aderno zelha medronheiro zambujeiro bordo loureiro salgueiro freixo choupo ulmeiro cedro espanhol urze murta sanguinhodassebes aroeira jasmineirodomonte estrepes alecrim folhado

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pine, privet, wild strawberry, wild olive, myrtle and Mediterranean buckthorn prefer the sunny, exposed areas. The Portuguese oak, Montpellier maple, laurel and Maritime pine are found in shadier areas. Along streams other trees and shrubs include alder, elm, poplar, willow and elderberry. The deciduous oak, Quercus faginea, is often seen as a transitional species occurring in the north and south (Vieira et al. 2000). In the north and in the mountains, the vegetation is predominately supra-Mediterranean. Arboreal vegetation includes the deciduous oaks, chestnut, pine, birch, ash, elm, willow, and wild fruit trees. Shrubs include juniper, yew, hazel, holly and heather. In discussing southern Europe, Clarke (1976) wrote that the Mediterranean woodlands offered 200-350 edible wild plant species. He suggested numerous wild grass seeds, roots, bulbs, herbs and legumes were widely distributed and abundant on the Early Holocene Mediterranean landscape. Examples of these native to the Iberian Peninsula are shown in Table 4.3. Combined with fruits, berries and nuts, hunter-gatherers would have maintained a diverse and nutritious diet when these plant foods were consumed with animal resources.

Pine nuts in Iberia In particular, Clarke (1976) focused on the high protein, high yield seed of Pinus pinea, the Stone pine. Pine nuts are well known as a food source in Europe. The Greeks considered them (and acorns) ‘food of the gods’ (Howes 1948). Abundant remains are also known from Roman camps in northern Europe, outside the ecological range of the species. As noted above, their charred shells are found in Middle Paleolithic and Upper Paleolithic contexts. Yet, despite their early use, pine nuts (and most other mast resources) have been

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Table : A sample of edible wild plants on the Iberian Peninsula Latin name

English name

edible part

nutritional value

Cruciferae

Sisymbrium officinale

hedge mustard

leaves

essential oils

Caryophyllaceae

Cardaria draba Silene vulgaris

hoary cress bladder campion chickweed

leaves leaves shoots

vitamins

Stellaria media Portulacaceae Chenopodiaceae

Portulaca oleracea Chenopdium sp Beta maritima Salicornia europaea

purslane goosefoot/ fat hen wild beet glasswort

dried flowers leaves leaves leaves seeds

medicinal vitamins vitamins fatty acids vitamins

leaves entire plant

vitamins minerals

leaves

essential oils

leaves berries berries berries

Vitamin C citric acid Vitamin C sugars

fruit seed leaves leaves stems roots leaves roots seeds rhizome leaves fruit seeds leaves

Vitamin C

Malvaceae

Malva sylvestris

Rosaceae

Rubus sp Sorbus aucuparia Prunus spinosa

common mallow blackberry Rowan ash sloe

Umbelliferae

Coriandrum sativum Apium sp Petroselinum crispum

coriander wild celery parsley

Carum sp

caraway

Foeniculum vulgare

fennel

Polygonum sp Rumex crispus

knotgrass curly dock

Urticaceae

Parietaria diffusa

dried flowers

medicinal

Ericaceae

Calluna vulgaris

pellitoryof thewall heather

dried flowers

medicinal

Verbenaceae

Verbena officinalis

vervain

dried flowers

medicinal

Labiatae

Salvia officinalis Rosmarinus officinalis Lavandula angustifolia

sage rosemary lavender

leaves leaves dried flowers

essential oils essential oils essential oils

Plantaginaceae

Plantago major

plantain

leaves

Vitamin C

Caprifoliaceae

Sambucus nigra

elderberry

fruit

essential oils sugar

Compositae

Sonchus oleraceus

sowthistle

leaves

Vitamin C

Liliaceae

Allium sp

bulbs leaves

Vitamin C

Typhaceae

Typha latifolia

wild onion leek shallot garlic cattail

starch

Phycophyta

Phaeophyta

seaweed

Chlorophyta

seaweed

Rhodophyta

seaweed

rhizome young shoots pollen blades or branches blades or branches blades or branches

Polygonaceae

Information from Guil et al ; Launert  

Vitamin C

starch fatty acids

Vitamin C vitamins minerals vitamins minerals

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marginalized by archaeologists because they are considered an unpredictable and therefore unreliable resource. In western North America, much has been written on the subject since piñon nuts were known in the subsistence of many Great Basin groups. Their widespread distribution and abundance made pine nuts an important, and probably high-ranked food item in the prehistoric diets of native peoples (Steward 1938; Thomas 1973). Simms (1987) calculated a relatively low kcal/hr return rate for pine nut processing in the Great Basin. However, among plants they ranked high and Simms predicted that they would be collected before most other resources. Because the masts occur every 3-5 years, hunter-gatherers would need to constantly monitor stands. Recently, Sullivan (1992), in challenging the maizecentered diet for the Western Anasazi of the Grand Canyon area, postulated that prehistoric hunter-gatherers with ample knowledge of the land in which they lived would have been able to predict mast years and/or move to areas where piñon harvests would have been abundant. He interpreted fire-cracked rock piles in a number of sites as evidence of piñon roasting, although paleobotanical remains were lacking. In a recent paper, Mithen et al. (2001) have interpreted similar features in Colonsay off Scotland as hazelnut roasting ovens. No substantial features such as these exist in the Mesolithic or Paleolithic archaeological record in Portugal, but these are not prerequisites as the charred shells from Gibraltar and Cueva de Nerja show. Several species of pines are found naturally on the Iberian Peninsula today. These include Pinus pinaster and P. pinea in Portugal. In Spain these two exist along with Pinus nigra, P. halepensis, P. uncinata and P. sylvestris. Because of widespread intentional planting

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of P. pinaster and P. pinea for centuries and probably even millennia, it is virtually impossible to know their natural ranges. It is thought that both evolved on the Iberian Peninsula (LeMaitre 1998). Because the seed of P. pinea is the commonly eaten one, the focus will be on this pine. However, this does not necessarily mean that P. pinaster seeds would not have been exploited. Rhode and Madsen (1998) noted that the much smaller limber pine seeds were utilized prior to piñon in the Great Basin. Pinus pinea lives in sandy soils and podzols in sunny areas of Iberia up to 1,000 m asl. This species does not thrive in highly calcareous soils but can tolerate a limit of 50% limestone (Vieira et al. 2000). It is generally found in thermo- and meso-Mediterranean regions and thrive in average annual temperatures 13-19° C. Their low temperature tolerance is about -5° C. They can withstand annual rainfall as low as 250-300 mm but prefer 400-1,000 mm. This species masts every 3-4 or 5-6 years but some seeds are produced during non-mast years. In stands in southern Portugal, trees typically produce 250 cones per year, but often 1,000 and sometimes 2,000 (Vieira et al. 2000). Seed production is generally more reliable in P. pinea than pines of western North America (LeMaitre 1998). Peak production occurs in November and cones remain on the trees until January or February. Each cone averages about 100 pine nuts which is a tremendous contrast with P. monophylla of western North America that typically produces 6-16 nuts per cone (Barlow and Metcalfe 1996; Badal 1998). Similar yields were observed in natural stands of P. pinaster (Miguel Pérez et al. 2002). Therefore, a single tree could produce 25,000-100,000 and even 200,000 pine nuts per year. In central Spain, where annual rainfall averages 450 mm, natural pine forests contain about 100 trees per hectare (Miguel Pérez et al. 2002). Similar

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conditions in the past would have presented prehistoric hunter-gatherers with a bountiful harvest. Modern workers harvesting P. pinea with long pikes collect 400-600 cones per day on average. Cones are left exposed to the sun to dry and open so that seeds can be collected. One hundred kg of cones yields 15-22 kg of hulled seeds. For pine nuts in their hulls, 1 kg equals about 1,400 seeds. For hulled seeds, 6,300 pine nuts weigh about 1 kg (Badal 1998). With minimal time and labor investment, prehistoric hunter-gatherers could have easily harvested and processed substantial amounts of pine nuts. Table : Comparison of nutritional values () of different types of pine nuts Protein Fat Carbohydrate kcal/

g Old Worl d Pinus pinea      P sibirica      P gerardiana     Ne w World Pinus monophylla   

 P edulis       P cembroides  
  P quadrifolia  

  P sabiniana 

  P strobiformis 

 Data from Howes ( ) Barlow and Metcalfe () and Lanner ( )

Table 4.4 shows the nutritional values for some of the varieties of pine nuts utilized for food around the world. There is considerable variability in pine nut nutrient composition between species. The most striking characteristic of P. pinea is the high percentage of protein. It also has high percent fat but low percent carbohydrate. In contrast, the values for P. monophylla in the Great Basin show it is poor in protein but high in carbohydrate. Considering Speth’s (1991) argument that hunter-gatherers could have

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avoided problems associated with excessive protein intake by consuming carbohydrates, P. monophylla may have been a valuable ‘protein-sparing’ resource in the Great Basin. However, in Iberia, pine nuts may have been more important as storable reserves of balanced protein and fat in order to mitigate the drought stress of summer. Table 4.5 shows nutrient values for P. pinea measured in grams/100g by three different laboratories. These results show that despite a high protein percentage, P. pinea seeds do constitute good sources of carbohydrate. Table : Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g for selected nuts from Mediterranean woodlands Protein Fat Carbohydrate kcal Pinus pinea  
 
 


    


 Q suber  



Q ilex 

 
 Castanea sativa  

 
Juglans regia  
 
  Corylus avellana  

   Data from USDA food composition database; Alce Ingeniería (Spain)  Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferreira & da Silva Graça )

Seeds of P. pinea have a high fat content and therefore need to be dried or roasted to avoid spoilage. In controlled conditions, seeds dried at room temperature showed increases in soluble protein content that peaked after 6 months (Fernández-García de Castro and Martínez-Honduvilla 1982). Under low heat (47o C) seeds showed an overall increase in protein and free amino acids but a slight decrease in lipid content (Martínez-Honduvilla et al. 1974). Although no data were presented on changes in fat content in stored seeds it may be reasonable to assume that low-heat drying would result in better fat-retention. In

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addition, pine nuts can be eaten raw but their flavor and storability improves with light roasting.

Acorns in Iberia For almost a century, anthropologists have realized the importance of acorns as human food (Merriam 1918). Anthropologists long held that the incredible natural abundance of different acorns attracted human groups and led to their role as a dietary staple. Acorns seem to have supported very large human populations in late-prehistoric and early historic California. Until recently, acorns were viewed as a highly nutritious and productive resource that could be easily collected and utilized. Basgall (1987), using principles from optimal foraging theory, noted that acorns actually required significant labor investment to leach the tannins that made them too bitter for immediate consumption. He argued that the caloric return rates for acorns made them a low-ranked item because of the high processing costs relative to energy yield. Among North American archaeologists, acorns quickly became perceived as a marginal resource that only became economically important when other resources were exhausted (Basgall 1987; Mason 1995a&b). However, this model is based on the assumption that the appearance of grinding stones in California prehistory was correlated with acorn consumption (Basgall 1987). Since acorns can be intensively processed using perishable materials such as wooden mortars and pestles, earlier acorn use might be archaeologically invisible. Additionally, evidence of leaching methods such as soaking in water either in special pits or in streams, boiling and roasting might not survive. Therefore, dismissal of significant prehistoric acorn consumption may be

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premature. In his book, Prehistoric Europe: The Economic Basis (1952), Grahame Clark discussed prehistoric acorn consumption in the Mediterranean. Citing the geographer, Strabo, he noted the Lusitanians, in what is now Portugal, were observed to eat bread made of ground acorns for three-quarters of the year. Although in later times acorn flour was milled and made into “famine breads” when grains were scarce, many people appear to have subsisted off acorns for centuries (Jørgensen 1977). Numerous citations from classical sources suggest acorns were viewed as the basis for all of civilization (Clark 1952; Mason 1995; Vencl 1996; Sieso and Gómez 2002). In fact, the genus name “Quercus” is derived from two Celtic words meaning “beautiful tree” suggesting its importance in early times (Sánchez Arroyo 1999). Vencl (1996) and Sieso and Gómez (2002) provide detailed summaries of the archaeological evidence for acorn use through time on the Iberian Peninsula. In Portugal, Afonso do Paço (1954) reported concentrations of acorns at the Copper Age site Vila Nova de São Pedro. Senna-Martinez (1994) reported carbonized acorns from the Neolithic site of Ameal in northern Portugal. Bicho (1993) and Arnaud (1990) hypothesized that acorns were eaten during the Late Upper Paleolithic and Mesolithic though no direct evidence has been recovered to date. Acorn-eating, or balanophagy, survives today in Iberia where sweets are made from acorns. On Sardinia, local people still gather acorns and process them using traditional methods. Acorns are mixed with a special iron-rich clay and boiled to absorb the tannins (Johns 1998). In the western Rif of Morocco, acorns are eaten raw, toasted, soaked in water or sun-dried (Peña 2000). Mason (1995b) detailed the widespread use across space and time in her review of

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the use of acorns as food in prehistoric Europe. She gave four reasons why acorns may have played an important role in Mesolithic diets which are also applicable to the Mediterranean Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic: 1) Oaks were an important element of vegetation…an would have been a commonly, and sometimes abundantly available, resource. 2) Acorns are, in nutritional terms, a potential energy staple— they are a bulk carbohydrate-provider and are very similar in nutritional terms to the cereals… 3) They are potentially storable for long periods, and can be a valuable overwintering resource. 4) Ethnographic and documentary evidence from wherever oak trees are found suggests that acorns have been an important (often dominant) plantfood resource for hunter-gatherers…(2000: 141).

Prior to the adoption of cereals, acorns may have been significant resources for prehistoric Mediterranean hunter-gatherers as is well-documented for Eastern and Western North America and Japan (Merriam 1918; Lewthwaite 1982; Mason 1995a&b). In the Near East there is solid evidence that acorns were used as food as early as 19,000 bp at Ohalo II (Kislev et al. 1992). At La Sarga, an Epipaleolithic site in València, a painted rock art scene shows several figures collecting acorns as they fall from the tree (Fortea and Aura 1987). However, inadequate recovery techniques and/or preservation biases inhibit an understanding of the role acorns may have played in European hunter-gatherer subsistence. The absence of acorn parts is made difficult by taphonomic factors such as possible small mammal or wild boar feeding (Leiva and Fernández Alés 2003). Processing methods may also disfavor preservation as most remains may never have been charred and thus preserved more easily (Mason 1995). Field processing among stands near base camps may also eliminate those parts of the acorn (or pine nut) so that the evidence for use is

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discarded offsite. These processing locales would likely be archaeologically invisible since they would not require the use and retouching of stone tools which would leave behind a durable residue. If, however, processing included roasting and/or pounding with stones a durable record might be left. In this case it is doubtful, in the absence of lithic type fossils, that such scatters of unflaked, unretouched stones and charcoal would be reported as an Upper Paleolithic site. Iberia is home to several species of evergreen and deciduous oaks. Typically, evergreen oaks are found in the thermo- and meso-Mediterranean vegetation zones. These include Quercus ilex, Q. suber and Q. coccifera. Deciduous oaks are found in the meso-Mediterranean zone but mainly in the supra-Mediterranean. These species include Quercus faginea, Q. pyrenaica, Q. robur. The species most commonly used as food in Iberia throughout the past is Q. ilex, but each can be consumed with some degree of processing. Q. ilex and Q. suber produce sweet acorns that require minimal processing time, usually light roasting. Q. coccifera has an astringent and bitter acorn and would require considerable leaching. The deciduous oaks are slightly bitter compared to Q. ilex and Q. suber, however they were consumed by people in the past (Mason 1995; Peña 2000; Sieso and Gómez 2002). The Holm oak, Quercus ilex, today prefers calcareous soils and rainfall between 6001000mm. Holm oaks cannot maintain closed canopies with less than 400mm precipitation (Terradas 1999). Below that, Mediterranean shrubs will dominate. Q. ilex is more coldresistant than other evergreen oaks in Portugal. Today it withstands temperatures as low as -15° C and can live through short periods as low as –20 to -25° C. Young trees may not survive below -10° C so that may be the low point for overall survival (Terradas 1999).

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The Holm oak is a mast species in which high acorn production occurs every 4-6 years. Acorns mature and fall between November and January. Data on Holm oak productivity in Catalunya show considerably inter-annual variability in acorn production. Siscart et al. (1999) calculated ranges between 300 acorns per m2 to 25/m2. In dehesas, individual trees produce an average of 12-18 kg of acorns per tree, but some may produce as much as 600 kg in a single year (Parsons 1962). Quercus suber, the cork oak, prefers siliceous soils and 600-800m rainfall. It prefers the lower elevations of southern Spain and Portugal but it is found at elevations up to 800m in northern Portugal. Cork oaks prefer mean annual temperatures of ~15° C but will tolerate temperatures as low as -5° C. Acorns mature in autumn and drop between October and March. Yields are slightly lower for cork oaks compared to the Holm oak. The deciduous oaks are generally restricted to northern Portugal and upper elevations in the central part of the country. Quercus faginea prefers the 600-1200 m elevation zone but is still common in the lowlands. It will tolerate hot summers and temperatures as low as -12° C in winter. Its acorns mature in September. Q. pyrenaica is mainly found between 400 and 1600 m asl, but can grow up to 2100 m asl. It prefers siliceous soils and annual rainfall above 600 m. Its temperature range is -7° C in winter and 22° C in summer. Its acorns mature in October and November. Q. robur is found between 0 and 1000m asl, but as high as 3000m in northern Portugal and Spain. It requires at least 600 m annual rainfall and is limited by winter lows of -15° C and summer highs of 25° C. Acorns mature in September and fall in October.

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Table : Macronutrient values for oak acorns from the Mediterranean and California Species Fats Carbohydrates Proteins kcal/g Eur ope Quercus ilex 


 Q suber    
 Q robur    
 Ca lif orni a Q lobata   
   Q garryana      Q douglassi     
  Q chrysolepis 

   Q agrifola     Q kelloggii  
  
 barley 




 wheat       Data from Basgall ( ); FEDNA (Spain) ) Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferreira & da Silva Graça ) 

Table 4.6 shows the nutritional characteristics of Q. ilex and Q. suber acorns compared to the California oaks. In contrast to pine nuts, the acorns are poor in protein and fat, but much higher in carbohydrate. Fat and protein content are comparable to the California species but both are considerably lower on average in percent carbohydrate. Recently, Harrison (1992, 1996) has brought attention to the highly productive and “sweet” acorn of the holm oak. This species is widespread in Iberia due to the dehesa (montado in Portugal) land-use system in which pigs are fattened on acorns prior to slaughter. The two primary oak species in the dehesa/ montado are Q. ilex and Q. suber. For Q. ilex, 9 kg of acorns translates into 1 kg of pork (Joffre et al. 1999). In some areas, pigs and cattle will eat the acorns from Q. faginea, the Portuguese oak, however its acorn is bitter compared to that of Q. ilex and Q. suber. The Pyrenean oak, Q. pyrenaica, is also incorporated into the montados north of the Tejo. Pollen studies in southwest Spain suggest the earliest physical record of such managed woodlands dates to about 6,000 bp (Stevenson and Harrison 1992). While the dehesa/montado system is part of a pastoralist economy, it does not necessarily require domestic plants or animals. The system enhances productivity

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by encouraging oak groves as well as several other arboreal species in order to increase browse for pigs, goats and cattle. In addition, these human-created ecosystems are home to a wide diversity of wild animals including red deer, wild boar, rabbit, Iberian lynx and birds (Fernandes de Abreu et al. 1993). Hunter-gatherers incorporating simple forest management techniques such as pruning, burning or possibly intentional planting could have created improved foraging areas for wild boar, deer, chamois and even wild aurochs. Spring pruning in the dehesa/ montado is the primary method for increasing acorn yields per tree however this would be difficult if not impossible to detect archaeologically. There is evidence of prehistoric fire management of European woodlands by people during the Mesolithic (Mellars 1976; Mason 2000). Much of this burning has been perceived as a means of encouraging new growth for browse to support deer and other ungulates. However, as Mason (2000) points out, burning can encourage the proliferation of desirable forest species for human subsistence. In this case, fire may have been used as a tool to manage oaks or other fruit/nut-bearing vegetation. Fire may permit more light to reach the crown thus increasing acorn yield for individual trees (Mason 2000). Comparisons between Holm oaks in managed stands and natural forests showed that unmanaged trees are generally shorter, found closer together and have smaller canopies (Pulido et al. 2001). Fire also benefits the cork oak which is used today to reforest fire-prone areas because of their thick protective bark (Carrión et al. 2000). It also produces what is considered a “sweet” acorn, meaning that they are low in tannin. These sweet acorns of southern Iberia require minimal roasting time to make them palatable. It should be noted that the amount

102

of tannin does not correlate well with perceptions of edibility. Some aboriginal groups in California preferred the most bitter acorns, possibly due to their higher fat content (Basgall 1987; Mason 1994, 1995). Lewthwaite (1982) has raised the possibility that humans played a deliberate role in selecting sweet acorn varieties. This could have important consequences for lowering processing costs to remove tannins prior to human consumption. On the other hand, humans may have intentionally selected sweeter acorn varieties after observing that pigs prefer the sweeter ones (Parsons 1962). Oak stands could have been managed to provide carbohydrate and fat for human diets or to create animal fat and protein, ‘porridge or pannage’ to borrow from Grigson (1982). The emphasis here on pine nuts and acorns serves to illustrate the productive yield of plants and their nutritional value regardless of processing costs. Other productive and nutritionally valuable tree nuts may have been available such as chestnuts and hazelnuts. Table 4.4 also shows the nutritional values for each of these along with pine nuts and acorns.

4.3 Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene Portugal The examples noted earlier provide evidence that plants were available and utilized by prehistoric people throughout the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene in Iberia. The question arises with the timing of their availability and the antiquity of significant plant exploitation in central Portugal. There is a nearly complete absence of macrobotanical evidence of plant use during this period. Instead, inferences must be made based on

103

paleoenvironmental studies, including pollen and charcoal, interpretations of stone tool technology, microscopic use-wear and recovery of starch grains. The last two are only beginning and no definitive results can be presented here. Thus, the discussion will focus on the potential plant availability from paleoecological studies, interpretations of stone tool technology and expectations derived from experimental and ethnographic studies of economic plant utility in other regions. Climate change and paleoenvironment Paleoenvironmental data for Tardiglacial and early Postglacial Portugal are extremely limited. Information comes from geomorphology, deep-sea cores, pollen, archaeofaunal and charcoal studies. Some of these data have been integrated into regional syntheses of the Portuguese Upper Paleolithic by Bicho (1993, 1994) and Zilhão (n.d., 1997, 1998). The standard interpretation was based on CLIMAP (1976), pollen diagrams from Lagoa Comprida in the Serra da Estrela and nearby ponds in northwest Spain (Janssen and Woldringh 1981; Turner and Hannon 1988; Mateus 1993, van den Brink and van Leewarden 1985, 1997), charcoal analysis from Cabeço de Porto Marinho (Figueiral 1993), sedimentological and microfaunal evidence from Caldeirão Cave (Zilhão 1992; Póvoas et al. 1989), and geologic context of open-air sites (Marks et al. 1994). New data published since these syntheses are considered here. The general circulation model of CLIMAP (1976) showed the Polar Front as low as northern Portugal (42˚ N) during the Last Glacial Maximum (LGM), remaining there until approximately 12,000 bp (Ruddiman and McIntyre, 1981; COHMAP 1988). The occurrence of cold temperatures below 42˚ was also attributed by Bard et al. (1987) to the southward

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Table a: Climatic chronology Pollen phase Radiocarbon dates (uncalibrated) 


 


bp

Lascaux Angles Prebølling

 




bp

Oldest Dryas (I)






bp

Bølling




 

bp

Older Dryas (II)

 



bp

Allerød






bp

Younger Dryas (III)







bp

PreBoreal




 

bp

Boreal



 


bp

Atlantic







bp

Last Glacial Maximum/ Upper Pleniglacial

Oxygen Isotope Stage

Termination A Heinrich  Tardiglacial

 Postglacial

105

movement of the Polar Front. However, summer sea surface temperatures (SST) were only a few degrees lower than present between 18-14,500 bp off southern Portugal (Duplessy et al. 1992). The discrepancy between these studies is therefore explained by a steep thermal gradient caused by the southward position of the Polar Front and the movement of warm tropical waters northward. On the other hand, Fatela et al. (1994) used benthic foraminifera data to argue that this cooling was due to the influx of cold glacial meltwater into the North Atlantic during Termination IA of Oxygen Isotope Stage 2 deglaciation (Table 4.6a). Furthermore, they argue that the Polar Front never penetrated south of 42°N during the LGM or deglaciation (Fatela et al., 1994; Abrantes et al., 1998). Zahn et al. (1997) estimated SST for the LGM (20-17k bp) of 18-23˚C for winter and 22-26˚C for summer due to oceanic circulation patterns that brought warm waters to the Portuguese margin. Termination 1A is also marked by the occurrence of a Heinrich event. These correspond to periods of iceberg flow from the Laurentide and Fenno-Scandinavian ice sheets into the North Atlantic between 40°N and 60°N where they melt and the dust that was locked in the ice accumulates on the ocean floor (Abrantes et al. 1998; Baas et al. 1998; Grousset et al. 2000; Chapman et al. 2000). The occurrence ofsuch “ice-rafted detritus” (IRD) in cores off the coast of Portugal indicate the southernmost drift of icebergs during Heinrich events (Lebreiro et al. 1996). Not surprisingly then, the deglaciation is marked by several fluctuations in temperature and salinity. Duplessy et al. (1986) argued that continental deglaciation of northern Europe took place in two phases, the first (Termination 1A) occurred 16,000-13,000 bp and the second 10,000-8,000 bp (Termination 1B), with no apparent melting 13,000-10,000 bp. Other studies

106

placed the initial deglaciation around 14,000 (Duplessy et al. 1986). Later studies of oxygen isotopes and planktonic foraminifera from deep sea cores off southern Portugal by Bard et al. (1987) show February sea surface temperatures (SST) as low as 4°C (15°C today) between 14,500-12,500 bp. Duplessy et al. (1996) show 11°C SST (21°C today) for summer. Both of these studies would appear to agree that conditions were much colder during the Termination 1A/H1/Dryas I in Portugal. The cause of the lowered SST and overall salinity has been attributed to meltwater influx from the continental ice sheets. After Dryas I, summer SST was as high as today during the Bølling/Allerød. In core SU 81-18 the Younger Dryas is characterized by a rapid drop in SST and salinity (Duplessy et al. 1992). Geochemical analyses of sediment in Caldeirão Cave Layer Eb suggest strong humid (warm?) winds blowing across Estremadura some time after 16,000 bp and before 10,000 bp (Cruz, 1992). However, the lack of stratigraphic and chronological resolution makes it impossible to know when this occurred. It may correspond to the Lascaux or Bølling/ Allerød interstadial. Zilhão’s (1997) interpretation of the Caldeirão stratigraphy suggests the latter. During the Last Glacial Maximum, sea levels were approximately 140m below their current level (Dias 1985; Dias et al. 1997; Rodrigues et al. 1991). In some places along the Estremaduran coast , the LGM shore was approximately 40 km east of its current position. By about 16,000 bp, sea level rose to about -100m but large areas of land were still exposed, up to 30 km in much of Estremadura. According to Dias et al. (2000) sea levels remained steady until about 13,000 bp. Between 13,000 and 12,000 bp, sea levels rose to about 40m below their current level, effectively shrinking the available land surface of Estremadura

107

by about 25% during the Tardiglacial (Figure 4.2). This corresponds to the beginning of the Bølling/Allerød Late Glacial interstadial. During the Younger Dryas cold snap sea level lowered again to 60m below present. Afterwards, between 10,000-8,000 bp sea level reached 30m below present. This was followed by the Atlantic period transgression (7,500 bp) that created a large estuary in the lower Rio Tejo. By 3,500 bp sea level had stabilized at its present level. While seemingly dramatic by geologic time, human groups would probably not have faced crises in adaptation because the changes in sea level occurred over hundreds of human generations (Waselkov, 1987). However, the lag between the marine and terrestrial records of 180-350 radiocarbon years suggests more rapid shifts (Boessenkool et al. 2001). Whatever the case, the submergence of about 40km of continental shelf has, in all likelihood, drastically affected the archaeological record for the Solutrean and Magdalenian in Portugal (Figure 4.2). Information on vegetation in Portugal during the period 15,000-10,000 BP comes from pollen studies in the Serra da Estrela and charcoal analyses from Cabeço de Porto Marinho and Lapa do Suão (Van der Knapp & Janssen, 1991; Figueral, 1993; Haws and Valente, 2001). Pollen evidence from Charco da Candeeira, a pond located at 1400 m asl in the Serra da Estrela, shows a rapid succession of steppe grasses and composites to herb and Ericaceae near the pond in the early Bølling (Figure 4.3). The occurrence of pine, birch and oak forest pollen suggests an expansion of forest refugia at lower elevations during this interstadial, dated 12,600 bp (Van der Knaap and van Leeuwen 1997). Prior to this, pollen was almost entirely absent possibly due to the outwash of montane glaciers. Unfortunately, no other pollen cores exist in Portugal earlier than 12,600 bp. In fact there

108

El Juyo La Riera Altamira Rascaño

Erralla

N Chaves

Atlantic Ocean Cova Fosca Matutano

Buraca Grande Lapa do Picareiro

Caldeirão Bocas

Lapa do Suão

Cova dels Blaus Cueva de la Cocina Volcán de Faro Les Mallaetes Parpalló Tossal de la Roca

Santa Maira Cova de les Cendres

Vale Boi Nerja




Mediterranean Sea



km

Figure  : Map of Iberia showing the coastline (heavy line) during the Late Magdalenian The faint line is the present coastline Note the amount of lost land in central Portugal and Mediterranean Spain compared to Cantabria

109

Laguna Lucenza Brañas de Lamela Mougás

Quintanar de la Sierra Banyoles

Sanabria Marsh Lagoa de Marinho

N MD


Charco da Candeeira Lagoa Comprida Chafariz do Rei Covão do Boieiro

Atlantic Ocean

Navarrés Fernão Ferro
 B SU  SU 
 El Asperillo Padúl San Rafael

Mediterranean Sea

SU 






km

Figure : Map of Late Pleistocene pollen core locations mentioned in the text

110

are no low elevation pollen cores for the Late Pleistocene. After the interstadial forest expansion, the Charco da Candeeira core shows a climatic downturn corresponding to the Older Dryas (Dryas II) phase in northern Europe. This was followed by an amelioration correlated with the Allerød interstadial. In the nearby Covão do Boieiro deciduous and evergreen oaks increase approximately 10,000 bp (van der Knapp and van Leeuwen 1997). An additional 60cm of undated Late Glacial deposits shows a predominance of Pinus sylvestris/pinaster type pollen with a reduced but constant occurrence of oak and minor contributions of birch, alder, sycamore, ash, hazel, olive and yew. The authors place these deposits in the Allerød and Younger Dryas phases. Thus it appears that trees were widespread in the mountains by 11,500 bp. A number of shrubs are also evident including Calluna, Erica, Genista, and Juniperus. Their presence, along with grasses, suggests an open woodland vegetation that reached a peak in density prior to the Younger Dryas. No radiocarbon dates have been made, but the Chafariz do Rei sequence (1770m) shows Pinus and Artemisia at the base possibly corresponding to the Bølling (van der Knapp and van Leeuwen 1997). Oak and birch appear during the late Bølling/Dryas II/Allerød sequence. At a slightly lower elevation (1150m), the Lagoa de Marinho sequence dates to the Allerød phase. The arboreal pollen is dominated by deciduous oak with lesser amounts of evergreen oak, hazel, birch, chestnut, holly, ash, alder, poplar, willow and myrtle (Ramil Rego et al. 1998). From a regional perspective, additional pollen studies have been made in adjacent areas in Spain, namely Galicia and Andalucía. Galicia is important because it (and northern Portugal) marks a biogeographical boundary between the Euro-Siberian and Mediterranean

111

zones (Muñoz Sobrino et al., 1997). Cantabria is considered entirely within the Euro-Siberian belt. Andalucía is fully Mediterranean today. The only pollen sample in western Iberia dated to the Late Pleniglacial comes from Laguna Lucenza (1375 m asl) in Galicia (Muñoz Sobrino et al. 2001). Cold loving and sun-loving plants dominate the period before 17,300 cal yr BP. Trees present include pine, birch and deciduous oak. Dryas I (here dated 17,300-15,300 cal yr BP) is marked by an increase in Artemisia indicating cool, dry steppe conditions. However, tree pollen in low percentages includes pine, juniper, birch, hazel and deciduous oak. Between 15,300 and 13,300 cal yr BP arboreal pollen expands to as high as 80%. Added to the previous types are evergreen oak, chestnut, alder and ash. On the coast at Mougás, tree pollen is low with dominance by humid-adapted heathers and grasses (Ramil Rego et al. 1998). Additional pollen studies in the mountains of northwest Iberia show a Bølling/Allerød vegetation composed of 40–60% trees, mainly pine and birch with some deciduous oak, hazel and chestnut (Muñoz Sobrino et al. 1997). Grasses and herbs made up the rest. The sequence from Brañas de Lamela (1280 m asl), a more south-facing, sheltered basin, contained the Mediterranean-type evergreen oak (Quercus ilex). It would appear therefore, that climate during this period was very similar to today. In southern Spain, pollen cores dating to the Late Pleistocene have been published from El Asperillo (0-30m) near Huelva, Padul (785 m asl) near Granada, San Rafael (near Almería (Pantaléon-Cano et al. 2003) and Navarrés (225 m asl) near Valencia (Stevenson 1984; Pons and Reille 1988; Carrión and van Geel 1999). The El Asperillo sample is from a peat band dated to 13,000 bp. It shows a slightly cooler and wetter climate with a downward elevational shift in forest cover of about 100 m compared to today. Several studies have

112

been conducted at Padul, the most recent supported by 21 radiocarbon dates (Pons and Reille 1988). The LGM appears to be a time of widespread arid steppe vegetation with grasses and some pine trees. Oaks and Ericaceae are present but in very low percentages, indicating a nearby refugium of Mediterranean species. About 15,000 bp, pine pollen decreases sharply as steppe species increase, suggesting a possible climatic amelioration. Pons and Reille (1988) conclude that climatic amelioration did not take place until after 13,000 bp, when evergreen oak (Quercus ilex) pollen increases. The core from the Canal de Navarrés (Valencia) shows high aridity at 18,000 bp with a gradual replacement of Artemisia by pine sometime afterwards. The Dryas II is recorded at 12,000 bp by a return of Artemisia. Its occurrence in several peaks suggests rapidly fluctuating climatic conditions during the Tardiglacial (Carrión and Van Geel 1999). At San Rafael, the Upper Pleniglacial vegetation is marked by a high arboreal pollen percentage (~75%) (Pantaléon-Cano et al. 2003). The most abundant tree pollen comes from evergreen and deciduous oaks wild olive, with mastic also evident. Grasses are fairly well represented indicating perhaps an open woodland. Recently, marine pollen records from deep sea cores have been published (Hooghiemstra 1988; Hooghiemstra et al. 1992; Parra 1994- cited in Carrión et al. 2000). Pollen diagrams from cores SU 8103 off SE Spain, SU 8113 off SW Spain and 8057B off SW Portugal show interesting correlations to the terrestrial cores. In all three, pine dominates the arboreal spectrum but other deciduous and evergreen trees are present from the LGM onwards. After 14,900 in core 8057B, Pinus, Artemisia and Chenopodiaceae decrease sharply at the expense of evergreen and deciduous oak (Hooghiemstra et al. 1992). In the cores off

113

Spain, there is a more gradual shift from the Artemisia and Chenopodiaceae to the evergreen oaks around 12,000 bp (Carrión 2000). Sánchez Goñi et al. (1999, 2000, 2002), Boessenkool et al. (2001) and Roucoux et al. (2001) have correlated the terrestrial pollen records with the marine record from the Last Interglacial to present. Boessenkool et al. (2001) show the spread of deciduous oak slightly later, around 13,000 bp, than the record from core 8057B nearby. Turon et al. (2003) show the same pattern for core SU 81-18 to the west of 8057B In core MD95-2039, a site 180 km offshore to the west of the mouths of the Douro and Mondego rivers, arboreal pollen reaches higher than present levels after Heinrich I (Roucoux et al. 2001). The general picture for the Last Glacial Maximum climate in Iberia is of aridity with slightly cooler temperatures followed by instability between 17-14,500 bp. After a cold event triggered by meltwater and iceberg rafting around 14,500 bp, temperatures and precipitation increased by13,000 bp, allowing forests to return to the uplands. The lack of low elevation pollen records for much of Iberia precludes a definitive paleoenvironmental reconstruction. In all cases, except El Asperillo, Mougás and San Rafael, pollen cores come from lakes, ponds or peat deposits in mountain zones. Most have no record of the initial deglaciation or at best imply a cool arid steppe vegetation prior to the last glacialinterglacial transition. In spite of this problem, warm adapted Mediterranean trees are evident in these cores albeit in very low frequency. This likely reflects a regional pollen input and that low elevation zones must have been refugia for these plants (Carrión 2002). The enhanced aridity evident from pollen cores during the Heinrich events was likely caused by shifts in atmospheric circulation patterns. The present-day Mediterranean

114

Table  : Pollen sites in Iberia with cores extending to the Late Pleistocene Location

setting

elevation

basal age

NW Portugal Charco da Candieira Lagoa Comprida Lagoa Clareza Covão do Boieiro Lagoa de Marinho

mountain pond mountain lake mountain lake mountain pond mountain lake


 

   



 

/



/


/
Late Glacial 
/



SW Portugal Fernão Ferro

coastal lagoon









NW Spain Laguna Lucenza Queixa Sierra Sanabria Marsh Laguna de la Roya Mougás Brañas de Lamela Lago de Ajo

mountain lake mountain mountain marsh mountain lake coastal lagoon mountain bog mountain
















 
/





/

Late Glacial 
/


Southern Spain Navarrés Siles Padul El Asperillo

flat valley mountain lake mountain coastal bog

 









/
 

/


/






115

climate regime is characterized by hot dry summers and mild wet winters. During the LGM and Termination 1A/Heinrich 1/Dryas I the winter precipitation decreased because of increased stability in high-pressure due to the lack of southward movement of polar highs (Combourieu Nebout et al. 2002). Conversely, during millennial-scale oscillations of interstadial conditions known as Dansgaard-Oeschger events higher winter precipitation and summer temperatures permitted forest expansion (Combourieu Nebout et al. 2002; Sánchez Goñi et al. 2000, 2002). The slow rate of expansion of oak forests and the long lag between the marine pollen and SST records suggest that warming began much earlier than 13,000 bp (Boessenkool et al. 2001; Chapman et al. 2000). Charcoal analyses at the Upper Paleolithic site of Cabeço de Porto Marinho provide the only low elevation Tardiglacial paleobotanical data for Portugal. Figueral (1993) identified components of a mixed Atlantic/Mediterranean community of pine (Pinus pinaster/ pinea), evergreen and deciduous oak, birch (Betula pubescens), olive (Olea europaea var. sylvestris), ash (Fraxinus angustifolia), wild strawberry (Arbutus enedo), tree heath (Erica arborea) and Leguminosae in CPM levels dated 11,200 bp, corresponding to the Allerød. Charcoal analysis of the Magdalenian levels of Lapa do Suão shows a similar composition. Species identified include deciduous oak, pine, wild fruit (members of the Rosaceae family) and olive. Radiocarbon inversions preclude a high resolution chronology of plant succession. Lapa do Picareiro has abundant charcoal in levels dated between 8,310-12,300 bp but it has not been fully analyzed. Preliminary analysis points to a similar vegetation comprised of deciduous oak, pine, wild olive, willow, ash and Leguminosae typical of Mediterranean garrigues. The majority of oak in the Late Magdalenian levels is a deciduous

116

oak, possibly Q. faginea. The dominance of this species in the Magdalenian levels indicates warm, humid conditions as its highest densities in Iberia today occur along the Estremaduran coast down to southern Portugal. In Spain, charcoal analyses have been done on numerous sites in Cantabria, the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean region. Late Glacial assemblages from Cova de les Cendres, Cova de Santa Maira, Ratlla del Bubo, Tossal de la Roca, Cova Bolumini and Cueva de Nerja in the Mediterranean region show a much greater abundance of trees during the Dryas I phase 15,000-12,500 bp than pollen diagrams. This is likely due to elevational differences between the montane ponds and lakes where the pollen cores were taken and the archaeological sites. At Ratlla del Bubo, dated to the Solutreo-Gravettian, juniper dominates but several other trees are present in low frequency. These include turpentine tree and mastic (Pistacia terebinthus and lentiscus), wild olive (Olea europaea var. sylvestris), fig (Ficus) and ash (Fraxinus oxyphylla) (Badal and Carrión 2001). Charcoal from the preceding Solutrean levels at Cendres was predominately black pine (Pinus nigra), with woody Leguminosae, juniper and small percentages of the evergreen oaks, Quercus ilex and Q. coccifera (Villaverde et al. 1999). Herbs and shrubs were also identified. During the initial warming, pine decreased as juniper, Leguminosae and evergreen oak increased. Also identified during this period are Prunus sp., deciduous oak, heather (Erica multiflora) and Ephedra. The Dryas I cold phase is marked by a sharp increase in juniper at the expense of pine and Leguminosae. The evergreen oaks decrease but are still present. In the Upper Magdalenian levels corresponding to the Bølling/Allerød interstadials pine comprises over 50% of the assemblage with juniper, Leguminosae and evergreen oak in low

117

percentages. At the end of the occupation deciduous oak, poplar and Pinus halepensis appear. Villaverde et al. (1999) note that the environment surrounding the shelter was probably as dry as today but slightly cooler due to the co-occurrence of black pine and evergreen oak. At Tossal de la Roca the early occupation level dated 15,360 bp had charcoal from pine (Pinus nigra), with low percentages of juniper and deciduous oak (Quercus faginea), and box (Buxus sempervirens) (Cacho et al. 1995). This suggests a similar vegetation to Cendres for the same period. In the Final Magdalenian level dated after 12,500 bp pine still dominates but deciduous oak increases from 1% to 18%. Montpellier maple (Acer monspessulanum) and rockcherry (Prunus mahaleb) appear in low frequencies. In the Microlaminar Epipaleolithic level (10,500) pine drops to a low percentage while oak and juniper dominate. In the Exterior section, the dated to the Geometric Epipaleolithic, here dated 9,000-7,000 bp, there is a higher diversity of trees represented in the charcoal assemblage. Evergreen and deciduous oaks comprise about 80% of the assemblage followed by Prunus mahaleb, Sorbus sp.(another wild fruit tree), maple and pine (Cacho et al. 1995). The Santa Maira charcoal assemblage shows a steady decline in juniper from about 60% in the Upper Magdalenian levels to less than 10% by the Geometric Epipaleolithic (Badal and Carrión 2001). During this time evergreen and deciduous oaks comprise about 50% followed by low percentages of Prunus, maple and poplar. Other Mediterranean types include ivy (Hedera helix), Cistacae, Erica sp., Fraxinus sp., Buxus sempervirens and Pinus pinea. The vegetation represented is similar to that identified at CPM in Portugal during the same period with the exception of juniper. This may simply be due to elevational differences between the two sites. At Bolumini, the brief Late Magdalenian levels show

118

the oak expansion during the Bølling/Allerød interstadial. Microfaunal analyses are also useful in accurate paleoenvironmental reconstruction. Together with pollen and charcoal studies, these data can help balance the biases in regional pollen inputs and human selection of wood fuel. In Portugal, Póvoas et al. (1992) argue for a shift to a Mediterranean climate during the formation of Level Eb at Caldeirão, dated 14,450-10,700 bp. This interpretation is based on the increase in percentages of the Mediterranean pine vole Terricola duodecimcostatus and decrease in the ratio of the voles, Microtus arvalis to M. agrestis. Unfortunately the rodents are mixed in with ceramics and sheep bones dated directly to 6,200 bp making it impossible to recognize climatic fluctuations seen in the deep-sea record. At Picareiro, during the Upper Paleolithic sequence, Markova (n.d.) notes high percentages of Terricola duodecimcostatus together with Apodemus sylvaticus (field mouse) and Eliomys quercinus (garden dormouse) indicative of Mediterranean forested environments and rocky habitats in Level J. This trio dominates the entire sequence with subtle changes observed in Level I where the snow vole, Chionomys nivalis, appears and Level F where Microtus agrestis occurs. Level I could date to either the LGM, Upper Pleniglacial or Dryas I which would have been times of cooler and relatively dry conditions. This is supported by the deposition of eboulis sec in the cave. Level F dates almost entirely to the Dryas II climate phase which was likely more moderate (wetter) than today as indicated by the presence of Microtus agrestis (Markova, n.d.). Indeed, Dryas II barely registers in the deep sea core (SU81-18) off the coast of southern Portugal and is absent in many regional pollen cores (Bard et al. 1987; Peñalba et al. 1997; van der Knapp and van Leeuwen 1997; Carrión and Van Geel 1999). The presence of the water vole,

119

Arvicola terrestris, in E Lower is not surprising given the radiocarbon overlap between this level and Level F. In the Magdalenian levels of Lapa do Suão, dated to roughly 15,00010,000 bp, Haws and Valente (2001) identified Eliomys quercinus, Arvicola terrestris and Microtus agrestis. The composition matches that of Caldeirão Eb and Picareiro E and F. Pleistocene paleoenvironmental reconstructions also rely on macrofaunal remains from archaeological sites (Bicho, 1993, 1994; Cardoso, 1993a &b; Zilhão, 1995). At Caldeirão, the disappearance of ibex (Capra pyrenaica) and chamois (Rupricapra rupicapra) and subsequent replacement by red deer, roe deer, wild boar and beaver has been argued to indicate a change from cold, dry steppe to warm, humid forest conditions. Explicit in this argument is the idea that the former animals are cold-adapted because of their presence in alpine areas of Iberia today. However, researchers in Mediterranean Spain use chamois as an indicator of warm, humid forest conditions in the early Holocene. Although chamois today is usually found in higher elevations across Europe, Tosi et al. (1987) show it living at 300m elevation in Italy. These facts support the idea that chamois have a much restricted range than in the past. Indeed, Miracle & Sturdy (1991) presented evidence from the Balkans that habitat alteration and human hunting pressures in the recent past have forced chamois out of low-elevation karst zones. Therefore, the disappearance of chamois from the Caldeirão assemblage likely represents a change in human selection of this prey, not simply a change in climate. Its occurrence in Allerød levels at Picareiro provides further support (Haws, 1998). Although data are scanty it is likely that the Younger Dryas impacted central Portugal. Bard et al. (1987) and Duplessy et al. (1996) show cold waters of the coast of southern

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Portugal during the Younger Dryas. Magnetic susceptibility curves for Picareiro show a sudden drop between 11,700 and 10,070 bp likely corresponding to the Younger Dryas (Ellwood et al. 2001). An abrupt decrease in oak pollen from marine cores suggests a rapid decline in temperatures on land. Pollen spectra from northern and southern Spain, however, show a return of steppe communities indicative of dry but not very cold conditions (Pons & Reille, 1988; Peñalba et al. 1997; Carrión and Van Geel 1999). Both evergreen and deciduous oaks remain present in Padul and Quintanar de la Sierra (1470 m asl) but in lesser frequency. In Catalunya, the Lake Banyoles record shows a drop in Pinus but other species remained constant (Pérez-Obiol & Julià, 1994). The molluscan evidence from Pedra do Patacho dated 10,400 bp have been argued to indicate cold waters off the southwestern Portuguese coast due to the presence of Littorina littorea. However, these limpets are found today on the Algarve coast casting doubt on their use as paleoclimatic indicators. In the early Holocene, by 9,500 bp, a mix of Mediterranean and Atlantic species returned to Estremadura. Pollen diagrams from the Lagoa Comprida (1400 asl) show vegetation at 9,200 bp dominated by pine with Artemesia and Chenopods indicating an open forest (Jansen and Woldringh, 1981). Between 9,200-9,000 bp, there was a rapid transition from the open pine forest to a more closed one dominated by oak. Shortly before 8,300, birch pollen rises along with grasses. Between 8,300-2,600 bp, the pollen record shows several oscillations of oak and birch with small percentages of pine. Ash, willow, hazel, and alder are also present. On the coast, the earliest pollen record is dated 9,500 bp just south of Lisbon in the Lagoa do Golfo (Mateus and Queiroz 1997). Since the

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base of the core was dominated by pine, Mateus and Queiroz (1993) argue for extensive Maritime pine (Pinus pinaster) stands on the coastal dunes. They extrapolate this hypothesis further back to the Late Glacial and suggest the entire coastal strip from Sines in Alentejo to Porto was covered by Maritime pine. Obviously, this requires data from offshore since the Late Glacial coast lay 10-40 km west of its present location. Many researchers have attempted to correlate the climate changes documented in deep sea and ice cores with terrestrial records and subsequently argue for similarities between the changes in northern and southwestern Europe (de Beaulieu et al. 1994; Lowe and NASP Members 1995; Peñalba et al. 1997; Zilhão 1997;. Roucoux et al. 2001; Ellwood et al. 2001). Indeed, there are agreements and disagreements between the different records. However, the evidence from Portugal shows a much more moderate climate (similar to today) during the last glacial-interglacial transition than in Northern Europe or even northern Spain. While the Polar Front may have been situated off the coast of Galicia during the Last Glacial Maximum and montane glaciers grew in the mountains of north and central Portugal, climate was never severe enough to permit colonization by cold, steppe-adapted mammoth and reindeer as in Cantabria. The plant and animal communities in Portugal were flexible enough to adapt with some altitudinal and latitudinal shifts resulting in localized changes in community composition, mainly the proportions of species represented. Thus, non-arboreal shrubs and sedges expanded their range in the mountains, but trees were still present. Mediterranean types shifted downward in elevation and possibly southward, while birch, pine and deciduous oak prevailed in montane valleys. Horse and wild aurochs likely had increased area of grassy plains to grow their populations.

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Ibex and chamois may have been more numerous to the detriment of red deer and wild boar populations. By 17,800 bp sea surface temperatures rebounded to those of the present day. Unfortunately, there is no solidly-dated terrestrial record in Portugal for the period between 18,000 and 12,500 years bp. One can only assume conditions on land also improved. The first indications from charcoal analysis show this to be true at least by 14,000 bp. The composite magnetic susceptibility reference section for southern Europe by Ellwood et al. (2001) shows the Lascaux interstadial followed by two warm oscillations prior to the Allerød. It is likely therefore that the warm ocean temperatures dated 17,800 bp correspond to the Lascaux interstadial. The second oscillation reflects the onset of the Bølling period. The Younger Dryas cold snap seems to have resulted in cooler and more arid conditions across much of Iberia. Reconstructing plant availability for Late Pleistocene Portugal is also made difficult by the millennia of landscape alteration by people since the Neolithic. Recent planting of Maritime pine (Pinus pinaster) forest since the 12th century has led to an artificial abundance of this tree species in central Portugal (Vieira et al. 2000). This species has great economic value for its resin and wood, which was used to build ships. Pinus pinea was also valued in ship building and it was more widespread in the historic past. During the Arab occupation, dense forests of P. pinea were cleared in order to export wood to North Africa and the Middle East (Vieira et al. 2000). The planting of Stone pine plantations in the south has also led to the common idea that they are better adapted to warmer, sunnier climates while the former prefer slightly more temperate conditions. In protected natural places in Estremadura like the Tapada de Mafra (the former royal hunting grounds) both

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pines are present. In general P. pinea outcompetes P. pinaster on the sunnier, south-facing slopes of hills while on the northern face the opposite is true. Identifying their occurrence in prehistoric archaeological sites can be problematic since ecologists consider them both part of the meso-Mediterranean (Barberó et al. 1998). Charcoal studies are perhaps the most common method used. Figueiral (1995), Schweingruber (1990), Jacquiot (1955) each give criteria for distinguishing the two types based on wood anatomy. Mateus and Queiroz (1997) identified Pinus pinaster charcoal from a single hearth at Ponte da Vigia and pollen cores from Fernão Ferro, leading them to extrapolate a Maritime pine forest on the Late Glacial coast of Estremadura. Given small sample size, single species dominance, and the fact that both date to the early Holocene one has to wonder about the accuracy of this reconstruction. Zilhão’s (1997) hypothesis that the Late Glacial coast was covered by sand dunes is based on four lines of evidence: 1) the Solutrean site of Vale Almoinha, which today is located near the coast in eolian deposits; 2) sedimentary analyses of submerged landforms by Daveau (1980) that suggest desert-like condistions on the LGM coast; 3) the pollen/ charcoal record from Fernão Ferro; and 4) the geochemical study of Caldeirão Eb showing elevated Na, argued by Zilhão to indicate the persistence of cold, salty winds blowing inland. Vale Almoinha is probably 40 km inland from the LGM coast and therefore should not be considered a “coastal” site. Therefore conclusions about the origin of the eolian deposits need to be reconsidered. The pollen record from Fernão Ferro is reported to have a high percentage Pinus pollen which is assumed to be P. pinaster. Caldeirão Eb is badly mixed and the two radiocarbon dates are on bulk bone samples. There is no reason to conclude from them that the deposit accumulated gradually over 5,000 years, nor that

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elevated Na in the deposit is due to salty winds blowing inland from the ocean, especially given that the cave is located in a sheltered valley 60 km inland. Furthermore, Turner and Hannon (1988) suggest that deciduous forest refugia during periglacial times were likely the maritime coasts of Spain and Portugal. As evident in the pollen and charcoal data, southern Spain and central Portugal witnessed a much earlier expansion of warm, temperate and Mediterranean forests after the LGM than in northern Spain and Catalunya. The Dryas I phase saw a regression of forest species. In southern Spain and central Portugal the reappearance of mixed temperate and Mediterranean vegetation took place in the Bølling/Allerød phase whereas in northern Iberia it occurred in the Early Holocene. Rich plant communities were certainly available to Magdalenian hunter-gatherers in central Portugal. It is necessary to consider the potential utility of the available plants for Late Upper Paleolithic hunter-gatherers in central Portugal and the factors that condition their deposition and preservation in archaeological sites.

4.4 Modeling economic and nutritional utility of plants Researchers using energy-based foraging models to understand plant exploitation among hunter-gatherers often implicitly ask the question, ’what are the costs relative to the benefits of exploiting a given plant?’ With regard to many plants, especially tanninrich ones requiring high processing costs, the answer is usually that the costs often far exceed the energetic benefits and that their inclusion in the diet must be due to some sort of subsistence stress brought on by population-resource imbalance. However, an important question may be asked from a wider nutritional perspective: ‘what are the costs of not

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utilizing certain plant resources?’ Given the issues regarding human nutrition in chapter 2, all resources are not equal and probably should not be measured by a single variable, energy, despite its appeal to simplicity (e.g., Jochim 1998). Non-energetic nutritional needs can alter the perceived “value” of a food resource. Without relying on cumbersome linear programming models that require extremely fine-grained data, plant (and animal) resources can be evaluated with regard to nutritional quality for analytical purposes. Most of the work on modeling prehistoric plant use has been done within a foraging theory framework. The majority of these studies are centered in the Great Basin and California, though models also have been developed for eastern North America (Simms 1987; Barlow and Metcalfe 1996; Gardner 1997; Gremillion 2002). Basgall (1987) considered the role of acorns in prehistoric California subsistence economies. Simms (1987) experimentally derived energetic return rates for wild plant resources utilized by prehistoric Great Basin foragers. Note that Table 4.8 shows that plants and small game consistently rank lower than large game. For Europe, Rowley-Conwy (1984) has also estimated return rates for acorns and hazelnuts as well as other economic resources based on Perlman’s (1980) figures for eastern North America (Table 4.9). However, neither Rowley-Conwy nor Perlman considered handling times in their return rate estimation. Additional studies focused on nutritional returns from wild plant collecting have been conducted in northern Mexico and northwest Patagonia (Laferrière 1995; Ladio and Lozada 2000). These studies show that energetic return rates are often not the primary factor determining plant food choice by hunter-gatherers. Emphasis is given here to studies in western North America and Europe that focus on acorns and pine nuts because these resources from different

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Table  : Comparative return rates for plant and animal resources in the Great Basin species common name/type kcal/hr

Anabrus simplex Odocoileus hemionus Ovis canadensis Antilocapra americana Lepus sp Thomomys sp Sylvilagus sp Typha latifolia Spermophilus sp Citellus sp Anas sp Quercus gambelli Descurainia pinnata Pinus monophylla Lewisia rediviva Elymus salinas Atriplex nuttalli Atriplex confertifolia Scirpus sp Echinochloa crusgalli Lepidium fremontii Helianthus annus Poa sp Elymus salinas Oryzopsis hymenoides Phalaris arundinacea Muhlenbergia asperfolia Hordeum jubatum Carex sp Typha latifolia Scirpus sp Distichlis stricta Allenrolfea occidentalis Sitanion hystrix Gila bocolor

grasshopper mule deer bighorn sheep pronghorn antelope jackrabbit gopher rabbit cattail (pollen) squirrel squirrel duck acorn tansymustard seed piñon seed bitterroot wild rye seed shadscale seed shadscale seed bulrush seed barnyard grass seed peppergrass seed sunflower seed bluegrass seed wild rye seed ricegrass seed reed canary grass seed scratchgrass seed foxtail barley seed sedge seed cattail root bulrush root saltgrass seed pickleweed seed squirreltail grass seed minnow

  
   
  
 
 

 



 


   
  
  



 

   


 





 
     
        
  


 


 




 

Data from Simms ( ) Table : Resource return rates suggested by RowleyConwy ( )for Mesolithic Denmark resource kcal/hr shellfish 





acorns  


hazelnuts 



fruits 


terrestrial mammals 


sea mammals ? waterfowl ? fish ? Return rates are based on collection rates only Handling time was not considered

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species of oaks and pines would have been present in the Late Pleistocene of central Portugal. In fact, they are evident from Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene sites in Mediterranean Spain. For the Great Basin, Metcalfe and Barlow (1992) built a model for field processing and transport of pine nuts from Pinus monophylla. This pine is widespread in the Great Basin and was the most widely exploited variety in prehistoric and historic times (Rhode and Madsen 1998). In the Metcalfe and Barlow model, field processing decisions are conditioned by the travel time to the resource, its utility (edible: inedible portion) and the time necessary to process it. Utility indices for pinyon pine nuts were then applied to a central place foraging model to “explore relationships between the costs and benefits of collecting, field processing and transporting loads …to base camps and the implications for overall efficiency while foraging” (Barlow and Metcalfe 1996: 352). Bettinger et al. (1997) also used a central place foraging model to explore acorn and mussel use in central California. In each of these models, knowledge of distance and/or travel time to resource location and the time needed to process are critical elements. The results of these studies are used in this section to explore some of the factors that may have relevance to Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene plant exploitation. Unfortunately, paleoenvironmental reconstructions are not fine-grained enough to know the locations of various resources in relation to an archaeological site. Often, site types (i.e., residential vs task sites) are not easily determined. Given these problems the central place foraging models cannot be fully utilized for most prehistoric cases. They do however, provide some expectations concerning resource use that can be applied to Late

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Pleistocene Portugal. The Metcalfe and Barlow (1992) model predicts when resources should be processed in the field prior to transport. The feasibility of processing is dependent on the type of ‘package’ the resource is found, or the inedible fraction that must be removed. Removing this portion increases the utility of a resource and allows more to be collected and transported back to camp. For plants, the greater the processing time required the less likely a resource will be field processed. Time and group composition also place important constraints on the decisions. If women and children are collecting, they are less likely to camp overnight than men, thus placing a time constraint on collecting. Weight is also an important variable because of thresholds in the amount that can be carried. Reducing or eliminating bulky, inedible parts lowers the weight and increases the overall utility of a resource. In their experimental model for pine nut and pickleweed exploitation, Barlow and Metcalfe (1996) found that foragers could lower costs and raise return rates if they moved residence to the resource location. For pine nuts, the cones represent a significant, spaceconsuming fraction and should be removed to maximize the amount of edible nuts transported. The hulls require more processing and it is not economical to remove them prior to transport unless extremely long distances are involved (>100 km). Unless stands are within a very short distance pine nuts should be transported to base camps in their hulls. This means that cones should be rarely deposited in residential camps, but pine nut hulls may be deposited in large numbers. Since they do not require heating to be cracked open, these may rarely be charred and therefore not likely to preserve except in rare cases of exceptional preservation. Based on the central place model, if pine nuts were a significant

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resource then residential camps would not necessarily be expected in areas near stands because pine nuts can be transported fairly long distances before it becomes unprofitable. In the Great Basin example, significant weight differences were found in the amounts of processed vs unprocessed pine nuts that could be carried using basket containers whose function as pine nut carriers is known ethnographically. Barlow and Metcalfe (1996) report that these baskets could be filled with 6 kg of unprocessed cones vs 18 kg of processed nuts. Of course, carrying such a large load over long distances would be physically demanding. Ethnographic data suggest women would carry 3-15 kg (Metcalfe and Barlow 1992). Based on this alone it would seem doubtful that prehistoric foragers would have traveled long distances to carry heavy loads. However, Barlow and Metcalfe (1996) show that return rates are higher for larger load sizes regardless of processing time and distance to patches. This pattern appears to hold true in other regions such as northwest Patagonia where the Mapuche make overnight trips to the forest 50 km away to collect seeds of the Araucaria araucana. Ladio and Lozada (2000) do not report individual load size, numbers of carriers or whether cones were discarded prior to transport but observed that Mapuche families transport 100 kg of seeds per trip. Given the large size of the Araucaria cone, it was almost certainly discarded. Pine nuts For Portugal, the charcoal data are equivocal concerning the types of pine located near the archaeological sites of the Bølling/Allerød phase. Figuieral (1993, 1995) has developed some criteria to discern Pinus pinaster from P. pinea. Distinguishing these two is important because P. pinaster has a much smaller seed than the ‘pignolia’ of P. pinea.

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Initial research led Figueiral (1993) to argue that both types were present in the charcoal assemblage from CPM. Subsequent SEM analyses may suggest that much of the pine charcoal from CPM was from P. pinaster but the assemblage was not systematically reanalyzed (Figueiral 1995). The conclusion is based solely on impressions and the methodology itself is new and so far has not been replicated by others. More SEM analyses are needed in order to verify these criteria. Considerable variability and overlap in the criteria offered by Jacquiot, Schweingruber and Figueiral makes it difficult to accept that these pines can be reliably differentiated by their wood anatomy at present. In evolutionary terms, the wood is under the least amount of selection and thus inter-species variation is low. Most species within a given genus are only distinguishable by leaf structure and form, flower and seed morphology Considering the preferred habitats of these pines, the calcareous soils of the limestone uplands in Estremadura may have limited the spread of P. pinea. Thus, sites in Serras of Aire and Candeeiros, where most of the fauna-bearing caves are located, would not be expected to have evidence of pine nut consumption. As will be seen in the next chapter, these sites are specialized animal carcass processing locations, not residential sites (Bicho 1996; Zilhão 1995). On the other hand, the low plains and valleys of Estremadura are covered by Miocene sands and podzols which are well suited for P. pinea. The Rio Maior valley would have been prime habitat for P. pinea. Its occurrence during the Tardiglacial is confirmed by the charcoal record. Unfortunately, direct evidence of pine nut processing in open-air sites is missing. Organic preservation is extremely poor in the sediments of the area. The absence of charred nutshells does not necessarily mean that pine nuts were

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not utilized. Although heating aids seed removal and thus may result in charring, it is not required. Dried seeds could easily be cracked open to remove the seed from the hull. The technology does not necessitate large slab grinding stones, common for plant processing in later times. Small grinding stones have been found at CPM in the Rio Maior valley but no residue analyses have been made on them. Grinding stones were also found in openair Gravettian sites in the Rio Maior valley and Vale Boi in southern Portugal (Thacker pers. com; Bicho et al. 2000). Of course, the occurrence of grinding stones does not necessarily mean they were used in plant processing. They could have been used in pigment grinding or animal bone grease processing. Until residue analyses are made, interpretation of their use is open. For Mediterranean Spain, Badal (1998, 2001) identified over 9,900 carbonized pieces of pine cones and seed hulls from Pinus pinea in the Cueva de Nerja. Though natural fires can ignite vegetation in caves, the association of these pieces with archaeological occupations provides a reasonable basis for considering them human food refuse. The majority were collected in three archaeological levels dated to the Solutrean, Upper Magdalenian and Microlaminar Epipaleolithic. In the Solutrean level 9 dated 18,420+/530 bp to 17,940+/-200 bp (Jordá Pardo et al. 1990), Badal (1998) reported 2580 fragments of cones and 196 hull pieces. The occurrence of P. pinea indicates warm, humid conditions near the cave suggesting an occupation during an interstadial following the LGM. Importantly, it demonstrates substantial human use of pine nuts as early as the Solutrean in the cave, although pine cones and hulls are found in the Early Upper Paleolithic levels too. Equal frequency of pine nuts occurs in the Upper Magdalenian level 7 dated 12,130

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+/-130 bp corresponding to the Bølling/Allerød interstadials. Large numbers of cone and hull fragments are also found in the subsequent Microlaminar Epipaleolithic level dated 10,860+/-160 bp. While this date falls within the Younger Dryas period, it overlaps the end of the warmer Allerød. Based on faunal analyses, the Younger Dryas at Nerja is characterized by cold-adapted birds and fish so it is unlikely that vegetation remained the same. Therefore, the pine nuts in the Epipaleolithic levels were likely deposited prior to the Younger Dryas. In all levels containing evidence for pine nuts, the occurrence of cone fragments implies a short distance to pine stands. According to the Barlow and Metcalfe (1996) model, these would only be transported with pine nuts if round trip times to find and collect them were less than a couple of hours. Acorns According to pollen and charcoal analyses, both evergreen and deciduous oaks were present in Late Pleistocene Portugal. Generally, only broad categories may be discernible by wood anatomy. Oaks are divided by non-taxonomic categories, such as white oaks, black oaks red oaks, etc., by North American foresters. Identification through wood anatomy is more easily done for these categories than by species although there is apparent disagreement on this between North American and European specialists. Carrión et al. (2000) claim to have distinguished the pollen form of Q. suber from Q. ilex. Their criteria have not been applied to other regional pollen analyses so the best hope for determining which species was more prevalent during the Bølling/ Allerød phase is the modern ecology and biogeography of the two species. Regardless of these problems, each of the species

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present today would have been present in the Late Pleistocene. Because Iberia was a refuge for many northern European plants, additional deciduous types may be present in the pollen and charcoal samples from northern Iberian sites (Bennett et al. 1991). During the cold periods of the LGM and Dryas I, Q. ilex was probably limited in its biogeographic range. While it may have been able to withstand the lower temperatures, the increased aridity would have precluded the formation of closed-canopy Holm oak forests that characterize much of the natural areas of lowland central and southern Portugal today. Charcoal analyses of LGM sites shows that Q. suber was present in Caldeirão, located in a sheltered valley, but not in the upper elevation site of Anecrial or the open, low-elevation site of CPM (Zilhão 1997). Thus, acorns from these species would not have been available in large quantities to hunter-gatherers during cold, dry periods like the Solutrean and Middle (?) Magdalenian. They would likely have been present during the immediate post-LGM Early Magdalenian but more prevalent during the warm, humid Bølling/Allerød period corresponding to the Late Magdalenian. The evergreen oak charcoal from CPM attests to its presence in the Late Magdalenian. The occurrence of Q. suber in CPM and Caldeirão is likely due to their location near sandy Miocene sediments where cork oaks are found today. At present there is no physical evidence of acorn use during the Upper Paleolithic or Epipaleolithic in central Portugal. In Spain, acorn parts were identified in the Upper Paleolithic levels of Cueva de Nerja and a few Epipaleolithic sites in Catalunya mentioned earlier. Considering the Bettinger et al. (1997) model for acorn processing and transport, unprocessed acorns should be transported from stands to residential sites. They found

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Table 
: Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g; mg/

g and µg/

g for selected nuts from Mediterranean woodlands

Pinus pinea

Pinus pinea

Pinus pinea

Quercus ilex

Quercus suber

Castanea sativa

Corylus avellana

Protein    
   Fat 






 

 

Carbohydrate   




  kcal 
   

  Miner al s (mg) calcium 
 
 
 phosphorus 



  
 iron 


    magnesium        potassium  

   


 sodium 
     zinc        Vitam ins C   
  

 Thiamin
 





 
Riboflavin







 


Niacin        Folate  µg       A      E        B
       B

  
 Data from USDA food composition database  Alce Ingeniería (Spain) Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferreira & da Silva Graça )

Table : Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g; mg/

g and µg/

g for selected birds from Mediterranean wetlands/woodlands Duck Partridge Common name Duck Portuguese name Pato Perdiz Protein      Fat     Carbohydrate


kcal   
 Minerals (mg) calcium    phosphorus   

iron  



magnesium
  potassium     sodium  

 zinc


  Vitamins C 


Thiamin


Riboflavin




Niacin    Folate    µg A (IU)   E


  B
   B
 µg

Data from USDA food composition database ; Alce Ingeniería (Spain)

Table  : Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g; mg/

g and µg/

g for selected game from Mediterranean woodlands Common Red deer Red deer Roe deer Wild boar Wild boar Rabbit name Portuguese Veado Corço Javali Coelho name Protein 
        Fat       Carbohydrate





kcal    
   Minerals (mg) calcium 
 
 phosphorus 
 
 

iron       magnesium   

  potassium   
 

 sodium 
  

 zinc    
  Vitamins C





Thiamin 





Riboflavin 







Niacin       Folate      µg µg A (IU)       E     
  B   
 
 B   µg  µg
 µg  µg  µg Data from USDA food composition database ; Alce Ingeniería (Spain)  

 


 



  



   µg  
 µg

     


   µg    
µg

Cabra

Goat

 


Rabbit




       µg




  



 


Goat



    
  µg




     

 

 

Cavalo

Horse







       µg

  

  

 


Horse

135

136

Table : Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g; mg/

g and µg/

g for selected fish and from Iberian waters Common name Salmon Sardine  Gilthead Shad Trout Portuguese name Salmão Sardinha Dourada Sável Truta Protein Fat

  

   (  )  






 


 ( )  


Carbohydrate  
 kcal  

 Minerals (mg) calcium 

 

phosphorus 

 
 iron  

  magnesium      potassium 
   
sodium  

  
zinc
     Vitamins C  
  Thiamin





  Riboflavin

 





 Niacin     Folate      A (IU) 
    E      B
     B  µg 
µg µ  
µg Data from Nettleton ( ) Tables  &  ; Alce Ingeniería (Spain); Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferriera & da Silva Graça ) All analyses conducted on fresh fish








Protein Fat  

Clam Amêijoa  


Razor clam Navalha   (  )  

Mussel  Meixilhão 
 

( ) 



Oyster Ostra 
  ( 
) 

Scallop Vieira

Carbohydrate

 kcal 

  Minerals (mg) calcium   
  phosphorus

 
  iron  
 


 
 magnesium 
    potassium 


    sodium   



zinc        Vitamins C
  
 Thiamin







  Riboflavin



 
   Niacin       Folate      µg  A (IU)       E       B       B µg    µg  µg  Data from Nettleton ( ) Tables  &  ; Alce Ingeniería (Spain); Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferriera & da Silva Graça ) All analyses conducted on fresh shellfish

Cockle Berbigão

Common name Portuguese name

Table : Comparative nutritional values expressed in g/

g; mg/

g and µg/

g for selected shellfish and from Iberian waters



             

 
      


      






  
( )  

Periwinkle Burrié 


Limpet Lapa

137

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that cupule removal, cracking, winnowing and leaching or roasting are not economical in the field unless acorns are transported over 125 km. Since no groups were ever observed transporting acorns over such long distances it is assumed that this processing did not take place in the field. Drying to reduce load weight may be the only economical field processing but this is contingent on the amount of time spent in the field. Therefore, evidence of acorn use should occur predominately in residential camps, not in logistical task sites. Unfortunately, these are the sites in Portugal that lack organic preservation.

Nutritional utility As discussed in chapter 2, the evolutionary ecological studies of tropical foragers have shown that reproductive fitness, not energy maximization, is the primary factor driving subsistence strategies (Hawkes et al. 1991, 1997, 2001; O’Connell 2000; Winterhalder and Smith 2002). The nutritional ecology approach offers an additional perspective to dietary choice by considering the health and reproductive consequences. Tables 4.10, 4.11, 4.12, 4.13 and 4.14 show the nutritional values of food types that were available to Late Pleistocene hunter-gatherers in central Portugal. Note that small game like rabbits offer the same proportions of protein, fat and micronutrients as large game if not higher. Birds are also high in protein and much higher in fat than terrestrial mammals. Fish are also comparable sources of protein. Shellfish contain lesser quantities of protein the proportions of various proteins are better suited to human metabolism (Wing and Brown 1979; Nettleton 1985; Erlandson 1988). Plants on the other hand have a wide range of nutrient values but are the best source of carbohydrate. In the case of tree nuts, pine nuts and hazelnuts have high proportions of protein and fat and, consequently,

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immensely high caloric value compared to animals. Acorns and chestnuts are generally good sources of carbohydrate. Detailed nutritional analyses of other edible wild plants such as seeds, leaves, roots, bulbs and tubers are not available. However, some qualitative information is provided in Table 4.2. For the most part, these would have provided vitamins, minerals, fiber, essential oils and fatty acids. These types of plants would have been better sources of vitamins C & E than animal organ meat. While post-encounter return rates for all the resources available to Upper Paleolithic people in Iberia are not feasible, the conclusion reached by many that large game will always outrank small game, aquatic resources, and plants in terms of caloric energy is a useful starting point for discussing foraging efficiency in energetic terms (Kelly 1995; Broughton 1995; Broughton and O’Connell 1999; Ugan and Bright 2001). Assuming the larger the animal, the higher the rank, horse and aurochs should be the highest ranking resource since they would arguably provide the greatest number of calories per animal unit even though they might not be encountered frequently. Medium ungulates like red deer, ibex, chamois and wild boar might be roughly equivalent in caloric value but much lower than large animals and encountered more often. Small game such as rabbits and birds would rank lower due to their smaller package size and despite their greater abundance and encounter frequency. Plants and shellfish, while highly productive, would rank lowest because they require higher labor investment for much lower caloric return as Bailey and others have argued. However, resource rank does not often predict the relative contribution to the diet. If generalizations about modern hunter-gatherers can be extrapolated to the past, then

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perhaps large game hunting was driven more by male status-seeking than subsistence concerns (O’Connell 2000). In places like the temperate mid-latitudes and sub-humid Mediterranean where plants and small animals were always present, large game hunting might not have been as important to overall subsistence as in the polar regions where there is little else to eat. Daily subsistence may therefore have been based on plant collection and small animal procurement by all segments of the population. On the other hand, if Jochim’s (1998) claim that hunter-gatherers will naturally choose a balanced diet is a result of our evolutionary heritage as primates then meat would not be the central focus of prehistoric diets given the problems discussed in chapter 2 (Speth and Spielmann 1983; Eaton et al. 1997, 1998, 2002; Cordain et al. 2000a&b, 2002). Hockett and Haws (in press) have argued that balanced essential nutrient intake through dietary diversity enabled Early Upper Paleolithic humans to grow their populations and replace archaic forms in Europe. In Iberia, diverse diets may have a greater antiquity due to greater availability of plants and small animals. Given this it is more plausible to assume that modern humans in Iberia were naturally acquiring a balanced diet during the Upper Paleolithic of Iberia through dietary diversification. In nutritional terms, the values for the foods in Tables 4.10- 4.14 show that plants and small animals like shellfish offer many nutrients in better proportion than ungulates. Hunter-gatherers would have achieved better overall health and greater reproductive success by exploiting a wider range of resources. Nutritionally, tree nuts may have been important substitutes for meat in lean seasons due to their storability. In the Mediterranean region, including Portugal, the lean season would have been the summer dry season.

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Pine nuts would have maintained their fat stores for several months enabling huntergatherers to offset the risk of protein poisoning if they were eating large amounts of meat in the absence of plants. They could also have complemented meat during seasons where both were plentiful. Stores of carbohydrates in the form of acorns and/or chestnuts would also benefit people through their protein-sparing action. The leafy greens with their essential vitamins and carotenoids would have been available for much of the year due to the mild, rainy winters.

4.5 Discussion Where edible plants are found people will consume them. This is obvious from ethnographic observations and global surveys of hunter-gatherers. The appearance of edible portions of various plants in the Early Holocene sites of Catalunya, Andorra and southern France tracks the changes in the environment. In these regions climate was more rigorous during the Late Pleistocene as evident by charcoal analyses, pollen and deep sea cores in the northwest Mediterranean. As forests spread so does evidence of the use of their products. In areas such as southern Spain and central Portugal where climate was less severe the pollen and charcoal record shows that the types of plants exploited in later times were present in the same proportion as today by 12,500 bp. If the hypothesis that humans will consume plants when they are available is true, then there should be evidence of their use during this period. Sites in southern Spain do contain evidence of plant exploitation before the Early Holocene. However, there is no such evidence of macrobotanical remains in central Portugal. This is largely due to excavation methods

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and the non-use of techniques suited to recovering plant remains. Most sites were excavated before modern techniques like flotation were developed. Research bias against the idea that plants were important components of Paleolithic diets also made attempts at recovery seem pointless to previous excavators. Using the expectations derived from analogous species of pine nuts and acorns in the Great Basin and California, there would be little reason to expect either to have been processed in Lapa do Picareiro, Caldeirão, Lapa dos Coelhos, Bocas or Lapa do Suão. Neither require intensive field processing with the exception of removing pine seed hulls from their cones. These would likely have been deposited in locations within pine stands or in residential sites, not specialized animal carcass processing sites. Acorns would only be processed and inedible fractions discarded in residential sites as well. No features have been identified as leaching pits in the open-air Upper Paleolithic, Epipaleolithic or Mesolithic sites of central Portugal. Charred nutshells of either pine nuts or acorns have not been recovered. No site has been excavated using flotation or any other systematic method for recovering these items. Recently, wet-sieving has been done using bulk samples from a few sites but this has not been done for or by paleoethnobotanists. All charred material is treated as charcoal and only recently has identification of wood species occurred prior to sample destruction for radiocarbon dating (Figueiral 1993). No report on charcoal remains has mentioned plant parts other than wood. It can be demonstrated that central Portugal was a refugium for Mediterranean and temperate plant species during the Late Glacial. This mixed community existed in lowlying plains and valleys until the Late Glacial interstadials allowed recolonization of upper

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elevations. However, the archaeological record is insufficient to know whether or not plants were a substantial portion of the diet during the Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic. Current research projects in central and southern Portugal are utilizing methods to recover such evidence. Preliminary data indicate the use of plants as early as the Gravettian (Thacker pers. com.). Given these findings, it is likely that plant exploitation was a regular and probably significant portion of the human diet during the Late Upper Paleolithic. The implications from central place modeling drawn upon in this chapter should serve to guide future research expectations concerning the types of plant materials that could be expected occur in a given location. Based on energy-considerations alone, the central place models applied to analogous resources shows that certain plants can be economically exploited over long distances. The Mapuche example cited above further illustrates the value of plants with regard to macronutrient content. The nutrient values for the tree nuts of the Mediterranean are comparable and/or complementary to those of animal resources. If people were under resource stress, the prime motivation for subsistence change in the Broad Spectrum Revolution model and diet breadth model, it is doubtful that people would have ignored such an abundant and easily processed resource such as pine nuts. The labor inputs and nutritional gains, whether energetic or marcronutrient, would have made pine nuts as highly ranked and probably higher than those from the Great Basin. Although late fall and winter would have been ideal collection times, immediate consumption would not have been necessary. Cones or seeds in hulls could be stored for several months, increasing their value for human diets.

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Pine nut and acorns serve as examples of the types of plants that could have played important roles in Upper Paleolithic hunter-gatherer subsistence in Portugal. Whether or not they could have been staples is debatable. Additional nuts may not have been as abundant as pine nuts and acorns in Estremadura. Walnuts are thought to have been introduced to Portugal by the Romans. Chestnuts and hazelnuts occur naturally and were evident from Late Pleistocene pollen diagrams in northwest Iberia. However, neither have been identified in charcoal assemblages from Estremadura. Certainly, a wide variety of plants besides tree nuts were available as food. Many of these, such as greens and tubers leave no durable remains. The pit of wild fruits and berries are virtually unknown in archaeological sites from this period. Only a few seeds from Rubus, probably blackberry, were recovered at Picareiro. Of the edible roots, tubers and bulbs mentioned by Clarke (1976), there is no specific evidence to date. However, the use-wear and starch grain analyses on Gravettian tools has produced some promising results (Thacker pers. com.). The availability of these plants is unknown because there are no pollen cores in low altitude locations in central Portugal that date to the Late Glacial. However, the pollen diagram from San Rafael in Spain shows that coastal marsh taxa were present as early as 16,000 bp. Even at Mougás, in Galicia, pollen from the Liliaceae and Umbelliferae, two important families with edible taxa, were present in the Bølling/ Allerød. Since many of the plants Clarke discussed inhabit this zone, they may have been available to Magdalenian people. The lack of human skeletal material on which stable isotope and trace element assays can be made precludes a better understanding of the sources of protein and calcium in the diet and the role of marine foods.

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In the next chapter, the representativeness of animal resources in the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene of central Portugal is addressed. Archaeological evidence for animal exploitation is investigated through a consideration of prey behavioral ecology and taxonomic identification. Site function and formation processes are investigated through taphonomy and skeletal element representation. This enables an understanding of the nature of animal exploitation and the role of animals in prehistoric diet during the Late Upper Paleolithic in central Portugal.

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Chapter 5: Upper Paleolithic faunal exploitation in central Portugal

5.1 History of investigation Pleistocene faunas The study of the Paleolithic in Portugal began in the 19th century (Bicho 1992, 1993; Zilhão n.d., 1995). The initial goal of early studies was to confirm the coexistence of humans and extinct Pleistocene animals in Portugal. J.F. Nery Delgado and Carlos Ribeiro, of the Serviços Geológicos, were aware of work in northern France proving the antiquity of man. Excavations by Delgado at the Gruta de Casa da Moura, just six years after the finds of Boucher de Perthes in the Somme Valley were accepted, showed this to be true in Portugal as well. His work was based on a consideration of the agents responsible for the animal bone deposition and the formation processed of the cave deposits. By the early 20th century, taphonomic considerations appear to have been forgotten or ignored. Vieira Natividade and others from the Serviços Geológicos excavated numerous fauna-bearing caves in the area between the Estremadura coast and the limestone massif. Many caves were excavated without regard for taphonomy or stratigraphy as was common in many regions during this period. Of these, Gruta das Alcobertas and Algar de João Ramos contained Pleistocene fauna (Araújo and Zilhão 1991; Cardoso 1996). The former has an undated Upper Paleolithic occupation while the latter is considered a paleontological site which was recently dated to 14,170 +/-170 bp (Antunes 1989). Edouard Harlé (191011) published an extensive paper on Pleistocene mammals in Portugal, which summarized the fauna collected from all of the known Pleistocene sites. His work remained the primary

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source on the subject until the 1970s. During the interim, Quaternary research flourished under Henri Breuil, Georges Zbyszewski and Octávio da Veiga Ferreira of the Serviços Geológicos but few Late Upper Paleolithic sites were excavated. Most of their research focused on the period between the Last Interglacial and Last Glacial Maximum. Jean Roche (1972) integrated the geologic work with a summary of Pleistocene faunas. This was a descriptive paper that used the faunal record as a guide for estimating glacial climate conditions. Recently, Cardoso (1995) systematically reanalyzed the large mammal collections in the Serviços Geológicos from a paleontological perspective. His compendium of fauna and the sites from which they came is a useful guide for comparative biometrics but offers little in the way of understanding human behavior. No studies of prey mortality profiles, skeletal element representation, or butchery patterns have been made on these materials. In fact, the nature of excavation methodology and museum curation precludes these analyses since the assemblages represent only a partial sample of the original site contents. Most of the sites are caves that date to the Middle Paleolithic or Early Upper Paleolithic and contained assemblages accumulated by humans and carnivores. Each are characterized by the presence of numerous large and medium carnivores such as hyena, cave lion, leopard, lynx, bear, wolf, cuon and fox. Herbivores include horse, aurochs, red deer, roe deer, ibex, chamois, wild boar with some elephant, rhinoceros, and hippopotamus prior to OIS 2 (Cardoso 1997). Hedgehogs, birds, tortoises, land snails, fish and/or shellfish are listed in most sites but their presence is difficult to evaluate in the absence of taphonomic studies.

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Late Upper Paleolithic faunal exploitation On the Iberian Peninsula, rabbits have been hunted for tens of thousands of years. In fact, the name ‘Hispania’ or ‘España’, derived from the Phoenician word ‘span’, means ‘land of rabbits’ (Bocharti 1712). In Mediterranean Spain and Portugal, Upper Paleolithic cave and rockshelter sites are usually full of rabbit bones. In Spain, researchers have long held that humans deposited the large numbers of rabbit bones found in Upper Paleolithic cave and rockshelter sites. Most researchers viewed rabbit as completely insignificant in dietary terms despite their high frequencies in Paleolithic sites. In some cases, rabbit bones were not kept by the excavator (e.g., Pericot at Parpalló). Estimations of dietary contribution based on meat weight has left rabbit completely marginalized by most archaeologists who have worked in Iberia. In Portugal, the first consideration of rabbit taphonomy was Delgado’s (1867) study of Casa da Moura. The earliest description of Pleistocene faunas listed “nombreux restes” of rabbits at Algar do João Ramos and Casa da Moura (Harlé 1910/11). The latter was reported to have “rabbit bones layers” that Breuil (1918) subsequently identified as Magdalenian. These materials were unfortunately destroyed by fire in 1975. Systematic taphonomic studies of raptor, carnivore and human damage to rabbit bones only began in the last 15 years with the work of Hockett, PerezRipoll and Sanchis Serra (Hockett 1989, 1991, 1992, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1999; Pérez-Ripoll 1993; Rowley-Conwy 1992; Sanchis Serra 2000). For the Late Upper Paleolithic the first site excavated with careful attention to recovering faunal remains was Lapa do Suão or Suão Cave. Prior to this only Casa da Moura and Bocas rockshelter, excavated in the 1930s, had indications of Magdalenian

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subsistence. The Bocas material is housed in the National Museum and is being studied by Maria João Valente. This site is discussed below. Since the late 1970s and early 1980s, the fauna from Suão served as the basis for interpreting Magdalenian subsistence in Portugal (Roche 1979). Yet, strangely the assemblage was never analyzed and the only information published was a list of the identified species, with the exception of the single numerically dominate species, the European rabbit. Consensus was that Magdalenian subsistence was characterized by a focus on red deer, wild caprids, horse, aurochs and wild boar (Bicho 1993, 1994; Marks and Mishoe 1997; Roche 1979; Zilhão 1992, 1997). Rabbits were not recognized as a significant economic resource until recently. The emphasis on large game has a long tradition in European Paleolithic subsistence studies and this perspective was deeply ingrained in Portuguese archaeology as well. The excavation of Gruta do Caldeirão in the 1980s by Zilhão added a significant, deeply stratified multi-component sequence with faunal remains from the Neolithic to the Middle Paleolithic. This record confirmed the general picture of Upper Paleolithic subsistence with a further refinement of the Solutrean and Magdalenian. Zilhão (1992, 1997) argued that Solutrean subsistence was largely focused on horse, red deer, ibex and chamois but that Late Pleistocene climate change eliminated ibex and chamois resulting in a Magdalenian subsistence based largely on red deer and rabbit (see chapter 3). To date, the most important Late Upper Paleolithic site with preserved faunal remains is Lapa do Picareiro. This multi-component site represents the most fine-grained evidence for Magdalenian subsistence in Portugal. It contains several radiocarbon-dated levels occupied between 8,000 and 12,500 bp. The deposits continue well below but are not well

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dated. The three sites and their Magdalenian levels are the focus of this chapter. 5.2 Prey behavioral ecology Modern prey population structure and reproductive and behavioral patterns have been used for many years to interpret prehistoric hunting strategies. The animals hunted in Portugal during the Late Pleistocene (after the LGM) are still present today in Iberia with the exception of auroch and wild horse. Aurochs were hunted until at least the Copper Age and perhaps into Roman times (Estévez and Saña 1999). Horse was hunted by Magdalenian people but its wild ancestors disappeared from Iberia in Late Prehistory. The relationship between the Iberian horse and modern domestic ones is subject of debate (e.g., Uerpmann 1996). Ibex, extirpated in Portugal during the 19th century, and chamois still live in protected areas in Spain. Red deer, roe deer, wild boar, rabbits and birds still live in Portugal today. The carnivores wolf, fox, lynx , badger and otter are present in very low numbers as their prey and habitat have been reduced for centuries. Of these, only fox is known from Picareiro while wolf, lynx and badger are known from other contemporary sites such as Suão and Caldeirão. Otter has not been identified in Upper Paleolithic sites but that may be due to site location. Because present habitats are substantially different than those of the Late Pleistocene, little can be said of the animal biomass potential without making some speculative leaps. The fact that many of the animals hunted in the Late Pleistocene are still present points to their remarkable adaptability in the face of climatic and environmental change. Despite these changes and the fact that past distributions may have been different, the modern ecology is considered here using uniformitarian principles in order to understand the

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structure of the archaeofaunal record. Given the variability in social and feeding behaviors observed within ungulate species occupying different habitats, modern studies should not be used as rigid guidelines for interpreting the past. A brief discussion of each of the economically important animal species follows.

Red deer, Cervus elaphus Red deer in Iberia prefer open forests of oak. Comparative studies suggest higher population densities for red deer in open versus closed forests (Straus 1981). Their diet is mainly leaves, shoots and twigs of trees and shrubs but they will also eat acorns, chestnuts and grasses. During summer, when rainfall is low they may inhabit piney areas. Given the open-forested nature of Late Pleistocene Iberia it is not surprising that red deer is the most abundant ungulate in many archaeological sites. Male red deer can reach 180 kg while females are usually less than 100 kg. Males shed their antler between February and April and they regrow around July or August (Mathias et al. 1998). During most of the year males are solitary while females maintain small groups of juveniles born the previous spring with a few 1-2 year old animals. Red deer do not migrate long distances. Males usually occupy territories of 6-10 km2 while females have ones ranging 2.5-8 km2 (Soriguer et al. 1994). Rutting season occurs during fall. Males form harems that average about 10 animals. This represents the best time to take large numbers of red deer in a single hunt. In spring, females break away to give birth and rear young. Today this occurs between April and June in Portugal and May and July in Andalucia (Mathias et al. 1998; Soriguer et al. 1994). Juveniles develop rapidly

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achieving half the body weight of an adult by the first year. Growth slows afterwards with females reaching maximum size around 4-5 years and males around 7-8 years (Mathias et al. 1998).

Wild Boar, Sus scrofa Wild boar are found in deciduous and evergreen forests and dense, low shrubland. They are omnivores and eat mainly fruits, nuts, tubers and roots, but also insects, snails, frogs, lizards, rodents, eggs and even dead birds (Mathias et al. 1998; Serôdio 1997). During the fall and winter they fatten up on chestnuts and acorns which together can make up about 60% of their diet. Wild boar never stray far from permanent water sources but will walk several kilometers to find chestnuts and acorns (Serôdio 1997). Adult males can reach 100 kg on average. Females are slightly smaller at around 80 kg. Generally, adult males are solitary are stay in small groups of two to three during the year until the reproductive season. Females tend to lead small groups of juveniles. Mating occurs between November and April. After a gestation of 4 months, births usually range from 24 animals but as many as seven are possible. Some females have been observed giving birth twice in one year; once in January-February the second in August-September. Whether or not this occurred in prehistory is unknown, but it raises potential problems in seasonality determinations based on tooth eruption or epiphyseal fusion.

Auroch, Bos primigenius Little is known about the lifeways of the auroch. The last one was killed in the early 17th century in eastern Europe. Based on biometric data, adult male aurochs are

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thought to have reached about 800 kg and heights of 1.5- 2 m (Guintard 1999). Biometrics have also confirmed sexual dimorphism. Males are thought to have been solitary since many isolated male aurochs skeletons have been found in bogs across northern Europe. Some of these were wounded by hunters as in the case of the well known Prejlerup aurochs that had associated microliths from 9-15 arrows (Aaris-Sørensen 1999). In Iberia, aurochs were generally larger in the south than in the north, possibly due to the milder and more humid climate (Estévez and Saña 1999). The aurochs may have been a very important animal for Late Upper Paleolithic people as it is one of the best represented animals in the Upper Paleolithic rock art of the Côa Valley in northwestern Portugal. At Domingo García and Siega Verde in central Spain, La Pileta in southern Spain and Parpalló in eastern Spain, images of aurochs were also a substantial proportion of the total number (Weniger 1999).

Ibex, Capra pyrenaica Ibex still lives in isolated mountain ranges all over Spain. They are gregarious and prefer open areas above ~600m elevation. However, they easily adapt to more forested areas of Mediterranean woodlands (Garcia-Gonzalez and Cuartas 1992). In the Sierras de Cazorla and Segura of southern Spain, ibex are found between 1300m and 2000m (Alados 1985). Mature males live in hierarchical groups of 20 or more animals. During the year females form groups of mixed juveniles. In May when birthing begins, females rear the newborns while 1-2 year-old males break away and form smaller groups. In August, these animals rejoin the female groups. The fall rut occurs in November and December

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when prime-aged males drive away older and sub-adult males to join with females (Alados 1985). In January, the groups segregate again until the following autumn (Alados 1985). Additional studies show that ibex move seasonally through altitudinal zones. During winter ibex descend to low altitude woodlands and open valleys. Males may occupy woodlands more than females (Alados 1985). During warmer months when males gather increasing numbers, they ascend to shrubland pastures. In summer, the males are found on steep slopes. This group dynamic probably relates to ibex forage quality, the ideal being more shrubland type. In the Sierra de Cazorla, population densities are the highest in elevations 1300-1400m. In this zone ibex is the most abundant ungulate and their diet is also the most diverse, though the preference is for leaves and branches of Quercus ilex, the holm oak (Garcia-Gonzalez and Cuartas 1992). Increased dietary diversity in the lower altitudes is thought to result from competition with other ungulate species. “The increase in diet diversity values in May could be explained by a wider availability of species and by a nutrient balancing strategy” (Garcia-Gonzalez and Cuartas 1992: 169). This last statement may have important ramifications for energy-based optimal foraging models.

Chamois, Rupicapra rupicapra As mentioned in the previous chapter, chamois has been used as a paleoclimatic indicator for cold dry conditions during the Last Glacial Maximum due to its greater frequency in southern France during cold periods (Delpech 1978). Contrary to many suggestions, chamois and ibex should not be used together to indicate certain paleoenvironmental conditions. Though modern data show that chamois typically live in

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temperate montane areas of fairly low precipitation, their past distribution may have been quite different (Miracle and Sturdy 1991). In Herzegovina, Miracle and Sturdy (1991) found chamois bones in Late Upper Paleolithic sites that were located in paleoenvironments similar to modern low elevation zones that chamois do not occupy today. This suggests that chamois had a much wider distribution in the past. Tosi et al. (1987) have observed chamois in protected zones in Italy regularly occupying chestnut and walnut forests as low as 300m asl. Chamois exhibit a similar group structure to ibex in that the females form large groups (over 100 animals) during spring and summer, while males form slightly smaller ones (Berducou and Bousses 1985). The rut occurs in November and December. Females give birth in June. In winter, chamois inhabit shady, forested areas while in summer they ascend to higher altitude zones. In Spain today they migrate seasonally 600900m between summer and winter ranges. Territory is greatly restricted in winter compared to ibex and wild sheep (Garcia-Gonzalez et al. 1992).

Horse, Equus sp. There are no living analogs for wild equid behavioral ecology in southern Europe. Two distinct species of horse occupied Iberia during the Late Pleistocene: Equus hydruntinus and Equus caballus (Cardoso 1995). Like its modern representatives horses are grazing animals occupying grassy plains. In Estremadura, they are rare during the Late Glacial and Early Postglacial, probably due to site location and increased forestation.

Rabbit, Oryctolagus cuniculus

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The European rabbit probably evolved on the Iberia Peninsula. These animals are very abundant and territorial. They live primarily in burrows in densely packed warrens. Rabbits are quite fecund, giving birth throughout the year with spikes in birth frequency during rainy periods in Spain and Portugal (Garson 1981; Soriguer and Rogers 1981). Therefore rabbits would have been regularly available throughout the year. Average size is about 1-2 kg for an adult rabbit. With large numbers of rabbits living in restricted territories, prehistoric hunters would have been able to easily collect sufficient quantities to make rabbit a significant dietary component. With the behavioral ecology of Late Pleistocene prey in mind, the Late Upper Paleolithic archaeofaunas can be interpreted. Attention now turns to the sites of Lapa do Picareiro and Lapa do Suão, which contain the most reliable stratigraphic contexts for Magdalenian subsistence. These sites are then compared to Caldeirão and other sites in the region.

5.3 Lapa do Picareiro Lapa do Picareiro is a shallow cave located near the town of Covão do Coelho in a small depression on the west side of the Serra d’Aire at about 500m above sea level (Figure 5.1-5.4). Gil Andrade first investigated it during the 1960s, when several human burials associated with decorated pottery were found. The name ‘lapa’ was given to refer to the shape of the cave. ‘Lapa’ means limpet in Portuguese and the cave is shaped like the inside of a limpet shell. The site was ignored until 1988, when João Zilhão and members of STEA (Sociedade Torrejano de Espeleologia e Arqueologia) revisited it. They recovered

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Figure 5.2: Picareiro is at the top of the Serra d’Aire (above) and 5.3: entrance

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Figure : Plan of Lapa do Picareiro







D E F G H I J K

Entrance

L

Cave profile




m

159

Figure 5.5: Cave prior to excavation (above) and 5.6: after 2001 (below)

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charcoal, flints, and animal bone suggesting an Upper Paleolithic component to the site. In 1994, Bicho tested the site as part of a project to record all of the archaeological sites in the region (Figure 5.5). This testing not only confirmed the suspicion that the site was occupied during the Upper Paleolithic, but that it had at least two occupations, the uppermost dated to 10,000 bp, and that the deposits continued deeper. As a result, Bicho systematically excavated the site between 1995 and 2001 (Figure 5.6). Beginning in 1995, visible archaeological materials were piece-plotted and the sediment fine-screened, washed and sorted to recover small rodent bones, fish vertebrae, shell, charcoal, and numerous backed bladelets and microdebitage (Bicho et al. 2000).

Table : Radiocarbon dates for Lapa do Picareiro Stratum

Sample

Date bp*

Lab 

D

Charcoal





Wk 

E Upper

Charcoal







Wk 

E Middle

Charcoal






Wk

E Lower

Charcoal





Wk 

F

Charcoal





Wk 

F

Charcoal

G

Charcoal

  


 



Wk

OxA

* noncalibrated results

The excavation revealed 19 stratigraphic levels labeled A-S, with the 6 dated archaeological occupations occurring in D, E, F, and G (Figures 5.7 & 5.8). Levels I and J have archaeological deposits but they are undated. Of the dated levels, D dates to 8,300, E

Figures 5.7 & 5.8: Stratigraphic profile of Lapa do Picareiro

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Upper to 10,070 bp, E Middle to 11,700 bp and E Lower to 11,500 each with a standard deviation of 120 years. Level F dates between 11,700 bp and 12,300 bp, while G dates to 12,300 bp. The large mammal remains from these six, plus I and J, recovered during the 1995-2000 excavations were analyzed and the results are presented here. Figure 5.4 shows the site plan with the excavated area. Each 1 m2 unit was excavated to Level K, an undated Early Upper Paleolithic level with few lithics and faunal remains. The faunal sample discussed below is entirely Magdalenian and represents about onethird of the cave deposits. The assemblages from the earlier levels are extremely sparse and are not adequate to consider long-term diachronic changes in subsistence. The Magdalenian ones are sufficient to discuss the nature of site function during the occupations. However, they probably do not represent the full range of subsistence behaviors that people engaged in during the Magdalenian.

Faunal analysis for Lapa do Picareiro During the excavations, several thousand bones were piece-plotted and many more recovered through screening. Fauna include red deer, roe deer, wild boar, auroch, chamois, rabbit, rodents, marine shellfish (mussels, limpets, and clams), sardine, and land snails. The assemblage is dominated by rabbit bones, over ten thousand of which have been studied by Bryan Hockett (BLM). There are a total of 1,837 medium to large mammal bone specimens in the assemblage. Of these, 451 (25%) can be identified to specific taxa (Table 5.2: NISP). After rabbit, the primary species in the assemblage is red deer, which represents 65% of the identified macrofaunal assemblage. This is followed by wild boar

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at 30%, aurochs at 3%, and chamois and ibex each less than one percent. The rest are indeterminate but can be divided into general size classes. Of the 1,360 specimens, 408 (30%) are Cervus-sized while the remaining 70% can be classified as small-medium ungulate. This latter category probably includes bones from wild boar, caprids and subadult red deer. However the pieces are either too badly preserved or too fragmentary to permit species designation. In fact, 43% of the unidentified specimens are indeterminate limb shaft fragments generally ranging in size from less than 1 cm to no more than 6 cm, with the majority less than 3 cm. Level

red deer

D E u E m E l F FA G I J K


   




Total



wild boar  




  

auroch





  

chamois

ibex

 

 







spindet 

 


        

fox





Total 
   



     

Table  : NISP of macrofauna in the Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic levels of Lapa do Picareiro

Methodology The methods used in the analysis are based on those commonly used by zooarchaeologists. Most of the recovered specimens were piece-plotted while the rest were recovered in 4mm and 1mm mesh screens. Each piece-plotted bone is kept in its own plastic bag so the entire assemblage was studied on a piece by piece basis instead of sorting by part or size category. Identifications were made by comparisons with reference skeletal material from the Zoology Museum at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, Field

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Museum of Natural History in Chicago, and specimens collected in Portugal. Each identified specimen was recorded according to species or size category, element, portion, side and age where possible. Limbs were divided into five portions: proximal end, proximal shaft, middle shaft, distal shaft and distal end. Isolated teeth were recorded separately from maxillae and mandibulae but all teeth including those still embedded were considered for estimating MNI. Numbers of identified specimens (NISP) are shown in Table 5.2 In most cases, NISP was the only counting method employed due to small sample size. The bones from Level F were counted by MNE, MAU and standardized to %MAU. This level had by far the largest sample size, though it may still be too small for meaningful statistical analyses. Despite the potential inadequacy, these measures do enable some important qualitative observations. With regard to limb elements, MNE and MAU was estimated for each portion. Had epiphyses been the sole portion counted, there would be almost no limb bone representation. The methods used for counting limb element MNE was a modified version of that used by Bunn and Kroll (1986) and Marean and Spencer (1991) (Figure 5.9). Neither estimates of the percentage circumference nor overlapping tracings of limb shaft fragments were done. The number of identified element fragments was small enough to visually inspect and compare each piece to determine whether there was any overlap of specific landmarks such as foramen or muscle attachments or whether size differences precluded different specimens from originating from the same bone. For example, as in Todd and Rapson (1988), the proximal humerus shaft is often, though not always, identified by the presence of the deltoid tuberosity. However, the distal shaft category would include the proximal-most portion of the olecranon fossa and the

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Proximal epiphysis

Proximal shaft

Midshaft

Distal shaft

Distal epiphysis Figure : Designated limb portions used in the analysis

166

Figures 5.10: encrusted red deer radii (above) & 5.11: Aurochs astragali (below)

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posterolateral nutrient foramen. Biometric measurements were taken on red deer and aurochs specimens according to the method used by von den Driesch (1976). These measurements were made with dial calipers and were recorded in millimeters. Faunal Remains Level D Level D is an Epipaleolithic layer that dates to around 8,300 bp. It was fairly discontinuous and distinguished from Level E only by its light yellowish brown color. Fifty large mammal bones were recovered during the excavation. Most were unidentifiable to species. The few that were include red deer, wild boar and auroch. Level E The assemblage from Level E comes from 9 of the 13 excavated units. The level is characterized by éboulis with whitish gray material that often bonds with the éboulis to make a breccia. All of the bones from E are covered with a carbonate crust which can, with care, be removed keeping the surface intact in many cases (Figure 5.10). Fragmentation is extremely high making species identification more difficult. In E Upper, dated to 10,070 bp, 183 bones were recovered of which 34 were identified to species. Twenty belong to red deer with an MNI of only 1, while the other belongs to wild boar. Both MNIs are based on isolated teeth. Three aurochs specimens were also identified. Two of these were astragali which were measured to confirm their wild stature. Both fell well within the wild size range (Bd= 58; GLl= 83.8; Bd= 58.3) (Figure 5.11).

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In E Middle, 226 bones were recovered of which 46 were assigned to species. Twenty-six elements were identified as red deer, with an MNI of 1 and 15 were identified as wild boar, which are represented by two animals, one adult and one juvenile with an unfused 2nd phalanx. Five aurochs specimens were also identified. E Lower contains 107 bones, but this level is much more diverse. Of the 28 elements identified to species, 19 come from red deer, with an MNI of 1, 7 from wild boar, 1 from auroch (the sesamoid), and 1 from chamois. The maxillary fragment of chamois contains the roots of P3, partial P4, and intact M1 (Figure 5.12).

Figure 5.12: Chamois maxillae Level F Level F is by far the richest level, with some of the best-preserved specimens and larger fragments. Much of this level is characterized by loose ebouli with little sediment.

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A large hearth found in this level did, however, contain lots of sediment and charcoal along with many burned and highly fragmentary remains (Figure 5.13). In the 8 units excavated, 710 large mammal bones were recovered of which 229 were identified to species. NISP for red deer is 161, followed by wild boar at 67 and one chamois specimen. MNI for this level is higher, with 4 red deer, 2 wild boar and 1 chamois. The red deer are represented by 3 adults and 1 juvenile and the wild boar by 1 adult and 1 juvenile (Figure 5.14).

Figure 5.14: Juvenile red deer teeth Certain parts, the astragali and distal metatarsi , were measured for comparison with other sites. Metatarsal distal breadth suggests the adult red deer may be represented by a male and two females. This possibility is discussed further below.

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Figure 5.13: bunny pit (above) and 5.15: Level G/I interface (below)

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Figures 5.16: refit red deer tibia (above) & 5.17: ibex teeth (below)

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Level G Level G is limited to the area of the large hearth in F. All of the bones are covered with white, ashy and clayey sediment. Although many are burned or extremely fragmented, it was rich in bone. Unfortunately, of the 288 recovered, only 47 were identifiable to species. Twenty-seven of these were red deer and 20 were wild boar, both with an MNI of 1. Level I The stalagmitic crust of Level H has effectively sealed off this level in units D6, D5, E6 and E5 providing the best preservation in the cave (Figure 5.15). There is almost no fine sediment, only large-sized ebouli. In areas lacking the stalagmitic crust, Level I is in direct contact with Level F from above. A refit was made of a red deer tibia from I and F (Figure 5.16). This is a reasonable occurrence given the fact that the two levels are distinguished primarily by ebouli clast size. The large mammal assemblage includes 52 bones. Level I has represented specimens of 2 red deer and one wild boar. Four ibex teeth and a possible caprid radius shaft were also recovered (Figure 5.17). Level J Level J contains 115 large mammal bones. Most of these come from a small hearth excavated in 2000 and 2001. The assemblage contains 115 bones of which 26 were assigned to species. They are predominately red deer with a NISP of 15 and MNI of 1. A few wild boar specimens and a single auroch phalange were also identified.

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Figure 5.18: Photos showing Åmose specimen (above) and Picareiro specimen (below)

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Taphonomy The taphonomy of the Picareiro faunal assemblage must be understood before conclusions can be made regarding human subsistence patterns during the Magdalenian. Bones deposited in archaeological sites potentially undergo a multitude of destructive processes from the time of their deposition to the time of the excavation. In this case, about 12,500 years has elapsed. The primary concerns here are the role carnivores played in the assemblage formation and whether or not density-mediated attrition due to other factors has seriously affected the bones. Among these are the chemical weathering of bones due to exposure, water, root etching and cave geochemistry and the impact of postdepositional trampling. Once these concerns are addressed, the human behavioral patterns that led to the deposition of the bones in the first place can be discussed. The weathering on bones in the assemblage is generally in the form of linear cracks along the longitudinal axis of long bone fragments, small round pockmarks and eroded surfaces (Figure 5.18). The weathering cracks point to slow depositional periods in the cave with bones lying about on the surface for considerable periods of time. Éboulis and other sedimentation in caves and rockshelters can be notoriously slow (e.g. Laville et al. 1980). The pockmarks seen on many specimens in the éboulis layers are most curious for they often contain tiny, usually irregular striations running transverse to the grain of the bone. Nanna Noe-Nygaard (personal communication) has raised the possibility that fungus and land snails could be responsible for these erosional patterns. Snails have tiny sharp tongues that could mark bones if they were eating fungus off of them (Miller 1994). The cave does contain numerous land snails, both in the past and presently, and fungi are

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present. The marks present on the bones from Picareiro Cave are very similar to those documented in the Åmose by Noe-Nygaard (1996) and at Picamoixons in Catalunya by Verges Bosch (1995). Another possibility is that some kind of acid solution dripping through from above chemically weathered the bones (Figure 5.19). This is a likely explanation given that most of the excavated squares are directly below a chimney with no apparent opening. In addition, the stalagmitic crust forming Stratum H lies directly below the chimney indicating the flow of carbonate in solution in this area of the cave.

Figure 5.19: chemically eroded wild boar teeth Carnivore activity Although Late Pleistocene fauna-bearing sites in Portugal contain carnivore remains, they are almost entirely absent in the Picareiro assemblage. Only one small tooth, a premolar of a very young fox was recovered. No postcranial elements are present, even

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considering the unidentified specimens, which are all from ungulates of various sizes. A few bones do show tooth marks, but none that penetrated through cortical bone. The single auroch specimen in E Lower is acid-etched and could certainly have been passed by a non-human animal. However, the etching could be natural chemical weathering, seen on many bones. There appears no doubt that, given the archaeological context of the bones, that humans deposited most if not the entire assemblage at Picareiro. The question arises as to whether or not the bones suffered from post-depositional carnivore ravaging which would obscure human behavioral patterns of butchery and transport. Bunn (1983, 1986) discussed observations of ungulate body part representation after hyena ravaging. Hyenas have the ability to crush dense limb bones from most medium and large ungulates resulting in highly fragmented bone assemblages. Typically, they completely destroy spongy limb epiphyses such as the proximal humerus, distal radius, proximal and distal femur proximal tibia and other relatively soft greasy elements (Bunn 1986). The resulting pattern is that midshaft portions are abandoned due to their lack of grease. Marean and Spencer (1991) and Blumenschine and Marean (1993) conducted controlled feeding experiments with captive hyenas to determine the patterns of destruction and remaining element portions in order to understand reverse utility curves seen in many Paleolithic bone assemblages. These studies are relevant here in spite of the fact that hyenas went extinct in Portugal by the end of the Last Glacial Maximum because they were instrumental in understanding why many Paleolithic cave and rockshelter archaeofaunal assemblages exhibit a reverse utility curve (Figure 5.20) (Marean and Frey 1997; Marean and Kim 1998). Repeated short-term cave and rockshelters occupations by

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Paleolithic hunters certainly resulted in the abandonment of large numbers of animal bones with varying amounts of grease and tissues attractive to hungry carnivores. The two carnivores known to accumulate ungulate bones are wolf and fox, both of which were present in Portugal during the Late Pleistocene. While the former is easily capable of hunting large game, the latter cannot bring down adult medium-sized ungulates. On the other hand, domestic dogs, present already by the Late Pleistocene in other parts of Europe, may have been the secondary consumers of these bones. Therefore, it is important to consider actualistic and experimental studies of modern wolves and dogs to understand the patterns of bone damage and destruction these animals create.

A 



B

Bulk Strategy



Gourmet Strategy Unbiased

MAU

MAU







Unbiased Bulk Strategy

Gourmet Strategy








Food Utility Index
















Food Utility Index

Figure 
: Schematic illustration of utility curves (A) represents the skeletal parts removed from kill/butchery sites (B) represents parts left at kill/butchery sites (after Metcalfe and Jones  )

Payne and Munson (1982) cite the work on Mesolithic sites by Steenstrup (1862) as an example of the early recognition that dogs in prehistoric Europe affected skeletal part representation by consuming the weaker portions of bones. Ethnographic observations of Eskimo dog feeding confirmed Stenstrup’s suspicions (Steenstrup 1862: cited in Payne

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& Munson 1982). The most well known ethnoarchaeological studies of bone destruction by canids are those by Brain (1967, 1981), Binford (1981), Walters (1984) and Hudson (1993). Brain (1967, 1981) observed damage to and survivorship of goat bones discarded by Hottentot villagers in southern Africa which were then further damaged by their dogs. Binford (1981) has provided details on damage to caribou and sheep bones by wolves. His data show that as the degree of fragmentation increases (measured in #s of splinters/ MNI), the number of articular ends missing increases (Binford 1981: Figure 4.59). The only case where Nunamuit created a similar pattern was after bone grease processing. Payne and Munson (1982) conducted controlled feeding experiments with large dogs during which they fed a hungry Ruby and her son, Slick, squirrels, rabbits and parts of goats. The pattern of destruction on the goat bones are of interest because of their comparable size to the animals represented at Picareiro. The dogs were fed half a goat on one occasion and limbs-only on a second. The pattern of destruction was a reduction of most parts to small ~2cm-sized fragments. The survivorship of limb portions was comparable to that observed by Brain among the Hottentots. Survival was low for the scapula, proximal humerus, proximal and distal femur, proximal tibia and high for the distal humerus, proximal radius, distal tibia, proximal and distal metapodials. Two juvenile goat heads were fed to the dogs and both the maxillae and mandibles were destroyed leaving only half of the deciduous teeth. Walters (1984) provides additional ethnoarchaeological data on bone attrition by dogs at hunter-gatherer sites in Australia. However, he did not discuss the resulting skeletal element pattern. Both Walters and Hudson (1993) noted the overwhelming destruction and loss of bones from small game

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animals by dogs in ethnoarchaeological bone assemblages. The abundance of rabbit bones in the Late Upper Paleolithic caves of Iberia suggests dogs or other hungry carnivores did not impact small animal bone assemblages. During the Paleolithic, wolves and dogs likely gained access to ungulate skeletal parts stripped of meat and cracked open for marrow. Greasy limb epiphyses may have been discarded or pounded, ground and/or boiled to extract additional fat. Depending on circumstances some elements may have been preferred over others leaving only the most marginal parts to the dogs. The expectations for skeletal part representation if dogs affected the bone assemblage are that the less dense limb epiphyses would be absent (Figures 5.21a&b), ribs and vertebrae would be damaged, the pelvis gnawed to the acetabulum, skull parts including the mandible would be damaged or destroyed, metapodials would exhibit moderate damage, phalanges would be complete, carpals and tarsals would exhibit acid-etching, there would be a high degree of bone chips with pitting and polishing and limb shafts may survive in greater abundance.

Bone density Given the lack of carnivore remains and possibility that companion dogs ravaged the bones in Picareiro, it is important here to evaluate the likelihood that density-mediated attrition due to other factors affected the Picareiro faunal assemblages. Bone attrition, whether by carnivores or other natural factors, is highest in the portions with the highest fatty acid content (Lam et al. 1999). This makes them attractive to carnivores for their nutritional value but structurally weak. Even in the absence of carnivores, their destruction

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Figures 5.21a &b: Carnivore-gnawed ungluate limb bones from Portugal

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is still more likely. A great deal of work has been done since Brain’s (1967) pioneering comparisons of bone density to skeletal part frequencies in human and carnivoreaccumulated faunal assemblages. Lyman (1984) used photon densitometry to measure bone mineral densities of deer, pronghorn and sheep bones in order to understand the affect bone density has on skeletal element patterning in archaeological contexts. Since then many other animals have been measured using photon densitometry (PD) including bison (Kreutzer 1992), llama, guanaco, vicuña (Elkin and Zanchetta 1991; cited in Lyman 1994), seal (Chambers 1992; cited in Lyman 1994) and small animals such as marmot (Lyman et al. 1992) and rabbit (Pavao and Stahl 1999). Though variability in bone volume density occurs among ungulate species, there are regular patterns in the volume density (VD) at the scan sites. Mandibles are relatively dense with the exception of the ascending ramus. In deer, pronghorn and sheep, vertebrae are generally weak. This contrasts with bison, which has much higher VD measures, likely due to methodological differences in the calculation of volume density by Lyman and Kreutzer (Lam et al. 1999). The same could be said for ribs and parts of the pelvis. In the forelimb, the scapula, proximal humerus, ulna and phalanges have a relatively low density. The radius, carpals and metacarpals have some of the highest density values. In the hindlimb, the proximal and distal femur, proximal tibia and proximal calcaneus are relatively low density. The rest of the tibia (especially the midshaft distal to the crest), tarsal, astragalus, calcaneus and metatarsal (with the possible exception of the distal shaft) have the densest parts. Recent work by Lam et al. (1998) using computed tomography (CT) scans of bones from horse, wildebeest and reindeer shows some important differences between the two methods. However,

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they also observed a strong degree of similarity in bone mineral density values between artiodactyls and perissodactyls. Therefore, any differences in skeletal element representation among species in archaeological sites is likely due to other destructive agents such as carnivore ravaging or human butchery and transport patterns. Although no studies have been done on Cervus the density values for other artiodactyls are considered representative here. Ioannidou (2003) has just published results of X-ray densitometry scans of adult and juvenile wild boar and domestic pig. Those values are used here to evaluate wild boar survivorship. Her comparisons with sheep and cattle revealed significant inter-taxonomic differences in bone density. Bone density differences were also found between young and adult wild boar, adult males and females and wild boar and domestic pig. Within the limb elements some further observations are apparent from both PD and CT scans. In CT scans 6 out of the top seven in the rank of long bone scan sites are midshafts (Lam et al. 1998: Table 2). Compared to PD, the midshaft rank for radius, humerus and femur is considerably lower. Where femur ranks highest in the CT scan method, it only ranks 17th in the PD method. The humerus ranks 4th in the CT method but only 11th using photon densitometry. The differences in scan site rank are probably due to the way in which each method treats cortical bone thickness (Lam et al. 1999). In general, both methods demonstrate that midshafts are the densest portion of limb bones followed by proximal/ distal shafts and epiphyses. Therefore midshafts are the most likely portion of a limb element to survive density-mediated destruction. The importance of counting midshafts in the calculation of Minimum Number of

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Elements (MNE) has been debated in the literature for two decades (Bunn 1983, 1986, 1991; Bunn & Kroll 1986; Bunn et al. 1991; Binford 1986; Marean & Spencer 1991; Stiner 1994, 1998, 2002; Marean & Frey 1997; Marean & Kim 1998; Bartram and Marean 1999; Klein 1999; Marean et al. 2001). Hill (2001) used the volume density estimates derived from CT scans to develop three expectations regarding limb bone representation and density-mediated attrition. These are: 1) a midshaft landmark will yield the highest landmark MNE 2) upper long bones will outnumber metapodials, and 3) the femur will be the most abundant long bone (Hill 2001: 121).

In order to test whether the bones from Picareiro have suffered density mediated attrition, the %survivorship or %MAU was plotted against bone mineral density values from Lam et al. (1999) (Figure 5.22, Figure 5.23). The %MAU was calculated by taking the MNE and dividing by the number of occurrences in the skeleton to derive the MAU. The MAU was standardized by converting the highest MAU to 100 and dividing each MAU value by the value of the highest one (Binford 1984). For Picareiro Level F, the red deer %MAU are plotted against the BMD of caribou from Lam et al. (1999). Figures 5.22 and 5.23 shows the scatterplots and values for Pearson’s r and Spearman’s rank correlation coefficients. The values are roughly equivalent (r= 0.47, p; rs= 0.50, p<.001) and show a weak but significant positive correlation between bone survivorship and bone mineral density at Picareiro. Density-mediated attrition or carnivore-ravaging may be responsible for some loss but neither is the primary factor in

184

LP Level F red deer 120 100

%MAU

80 60 40 20 0 -20 .2

.3

.4

.5

.6

.7 .8 BMD

.9

1

1.1 1.2

Figure 5.22: Plot of skeletal element frequency vs bone mineral density (CT)

LP Level F red deer 120 100

%MAU

80 60 40 20 0 -20 .1

.2

.3

.4 .5 .6 bone density (PD)

.7

.8

Figure 5.23: Skeletal element frequency vs bone density (PD)

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skeletal element representation at Picareiro. Hill’s (2001) expectations for bone density are met by the first two (highest MNE for long bones is based on midshafts and upper limb bones outnumber metapodials), but not the third since the femur is not the most abundant long bone.

Skeletal element representation and butchery patterns One of the most debated topics in zooarchaeology centers on the bones left behind by prehistoric hunters at kill sites and carried away and discarded at base camps. Bunn (1991) traces the origins of this problem to the work of the early prehistorians Lartet and Christy (1865-1875) who first suggested that the skeletal part frequencies of the French Paleolithic sites reflected the transport decisions of prehistoric hunters. They argued that for larger animals, the axial elements were discarded at kill sites while meat and marrowrich limb elements were transported to residential camps. Medium-sized ungulates such as reindeer were transported whole. This latter observation is more relevant to the Picareiro assemblage and is discussed further below. In Americanist zooarchaeology the issue was renewed by White (1953) who considered anatomical part frequency in determining whether a site represented a kill or a residential site. Perkins and Daly (1968) argued that an overrepresentation of foot bones in a site occurred because hunters stripped the meat off the limbs, presumably to reduce the weight, and carried it back to the residence in the skin of the animal with the feet still attached for use as handles. The bulky limb bones were left behind. In the decades since, zooarchaeologists have realized there is a great deal of variability in bone assemblages and numerous causes for their composition. There

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is no longer a simple dichotomy between kill sites and residential sites (Binford 1978, 1980, 1981). Ethnoarchaeological research has shown many factors determine which parts of the skeleton are transported from kills and which ultimately arrive in camps and/or villages (Binford 1978; Bunn 1986, 1991, 2002; Bunn et al. 1988, 1991; O’Connell et al. 1988, 1990; O’Connell and Marshall 1989; Bartram 1993; Emerson 1993; Oliver 1993). What happens along the way and in camp is discussed in the next section. Binford (1978) quantitatively modeled transport decisions by devising body part utility indices for caribou and sheep. These indices, Meat Index, Marrow Index, Grease Index, were combined to produce a general utility index (GUI) that was modified (MGUI) to take into account the low-utility parts attached to high utility ones whose removal coasts outweighed the benefit (reducing transport costs) of removing them. Generally, highutility skeletal parts will be missing from kill sites because hunters would have processed the carcass and left behind low-utility parts. Each of the indices has been further modified by others but serves as the basis for many behavioral interpretations of archaeofaunal assemblages. This model of discarding low-utility axial parts and transport of high-utility appendicular parts has been challenged recently by O’Connell and colleagues who used ethnographic observations of Hadza hunters to argue that for many large game animals, appendicular parts are left behind more often than axial parts, which are transported away (O’Connell et al. 1988, 1990; Emerson 1993). The reasoning behind their argument is that limb bones are heavy and hunters will strip the meat off of them and discard the bones, taking the axial parts back to camp because the effort to remove the meat from them

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would be uneconomical. The decision to transport a skeletal part is guided by the ratio of edible to inedible tissue. Bones with a low ratio are likely to be processed to remove meat and marrow and the bulky, heavy inedible fraction, bone, will be discarded. Elements with high ratios would be transported because the cost to remove the inedible fraction would lower the economic value of the edible part. O’Connell et al. (1988) argue transport decisions are based on carcass size and distance to camp. Not only do they question the White model and claim the reverse (Perkins and Daly), they also call into question the use of body size class as an analytical unit, pointing to their data that suggest variation in the treatment of carcasses within size class (O’Connell et al. 1990). Bunn (1993) countered this interpretation of Hadza transport by arguing that Hadza hunters try to transport entire carcasses when possible. Exceptions are very large animals (e.g. giraffe), those that have poor marrow quality and decisions to avoid sharing high-utility parts such as rich, marrowfilled limb bones (Bunn 1993). The high proportion of vertebrae is due to the ability to boil and render grease from them. Thus they may have a higher economic value and greater incentive for transport than they may have in pre-boiling times such as the Plio-Pleistocene. This technology was probably available to Upper Paleolithic hunter-gatherers and is a relevant factor to interpret assemblage composition at Picareiro. Bartram (1993) reported ethnoarchaeological observations of carcass transport by Kua hunter-gatherers. His study showed an important correlation between assemblage composition at kill/butchery sites and time spent field processing. Large game limb elements were left at kill/butchery sites after meat was stripped off and sun-dried. This occurred because of decisions to reduce transport costs based on factors such as the number

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of carriers, distance to camp and size of the animal. Stripping and drying meat was one possibility among several. The debate over reducing transport costs usually centers around animals of large to very large size (>200kg). In Portugal, large game available during the Late Pleistocene include horse (700-800 kg), aurochs (500-800 kg?), red deer (100-180 kg), roe deer (15-30 kg), ibex (35-80 kg), chamois (30-50 kg) and wild boar (80-100 kg) (not shown: Table 5.3). The first two fall into the size group 4 of the large African bovids and equids hunted by the Hadza and Kua. The other five are smaller and fall into the range of size group 2-3 animals typically transported as entire cut up carcasses. The statistical correlations between carcass size, distance to kill and proportion of elements transported were argued by O’Connell et al. (1990) to explain 40-57% of the variation. Although the correlations were significant the fact remains that they only explain half of the variation. The remaining variation is significant and just as important in determining carcass transport. The additional problems of sample size and length of observation time was raised by Bunn (1993) who provided data from 110 carcasses. The transport pattern shows that over 90% of the carcass was transported with the exception of heads and ribs which were carried over 80% of the time. Foraging models that attempt to simplify decision-making to one or two variables, such as the amount of edible tissue, the amount of processing time, distance traveled and energy expenditures always make the qualifying statement “all else equal.” Rarely, does it seem, that all else is equal regarding human decision-making. The skeletal element representation for Level F red deer and wild boar at Picareiro

189 Level F Wild Boar

NISP

MNE

Cranial   Mandible   Vertebra

Rib

Scapula   Humerus   Radius

Ulna   Carpals

Metacarpals   Pelvis   Femur

Tibia   Patella

Tarsal

Calcaneus

Astragalus

Metatarsals

Phalanges   Total Table : Picareiro Level F wild boar (isolated teeth not included)

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Figures 5.24a &5.24b: Wild boar specimens from Picareiro

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shows some interesting patterns. Table 5.4 and 5.5 shows NISP and MNE for wild boar and red deer, respectively. It is immediately apparent that red deer has a much better overall skeletal representation than wild boar. While Level F has evidence for at least 2 wild boar and maybe 3, the NISP and MNE show an extremely high degree of underrepresentation for most elements. Rowley-Conwy et al. (2002) have recently published a food utility index (FUI) for European wild boar. Using the revised methodology proposed by Metcalfe and Jones (1988), they found the highest utility parts were the entire thorax (vertebrae, ribs and sternum combined), lumbar vertebrae, pelvis and femur. Of secondary importance was the skull, mandible, cervical vertebrae and scapula. The humerus, tibia and lower limb elements ranked lowest. This contrasts with the values Binford (1978) reported for sheep and caribou. Rowley-Conwy et al. (2002) show that wild boar femora, scapulae, humeri and tibiae generally have a much lower food utility than caribou especially. In Picareiro Level F, crania and mandibles are the most common parts, followed by phalanges and metapodials (Figures 5.24 & 5.25). The vertebrae, ribs and upper limbs are least represented. The tibia, humerus and ulna are the only upper limbs present. This suggests removal of the bulky heads and transport of nearly intact carcasses away from the cave. Some wild boar was consumed onsite as evidenced by the few limb remains. It is unlikely that meat was removed in order to reduce transport costs. Drying and smoking of limb quarters may have taken place, but likely with the bones in. Based on the wild boar FUI, it would appear that the Picareiro wild boar exhibit a classic reverse utility curve for kill/butchery sites where the lowest utility parts are most commonly left behind.

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Table : NISP of Red Deer from Magdalenian levels in Lapa do Picareiro Red Deer

Level E u

Level E m

Level E l

Level F

Level FA

Level G

Cran Mand





 








 

Vert Rib



















Scap

















P Hu epi P Hu shaft Hu midshaft D Hu shaft D Hu epi























 









  


P Ra epi P Ra shaft Ra midshaft D Ra shaft D Ra epi





















  














P Ulna D Ulna

























Carpal














P mtc Mtc midshaft D Mtc










 


 








Pelvis


















P Fe epi P Fe shaft Fe midshaft D Fe shaft D Fe epi






















  o
















Patella


















P Ti epi P Ti shaft Ti midshaft D Ti shaft D Ti epi





















  









 



Tarsal Calcaneus Astragalus

  









 









P Mtt Mtt midshaft D Mtt















 










 ndPhalange Phalange rd  Phalange

 

 






 









Sesamoids
















st

193

Table : Skeletal element representation for red deer Level F Side and age taken into consideration in MNE estimation Level F Red Deer

NISP

MNE

MAU

MAU

Cranial Mandible











V cervical V thoracic V lumbar Rib

 



   


   

Scapula Prox Hum epi Prox Hum shaft Hum midshaft Dist Hum shaft Dist Hum epi Prox Rad epi Prox Rad shaft Rad midshaft Dist Rad shaft Dist Rad epi Prox Ulna Dist Ulna Carpal



 
  





 
   





 
  


















Prox metacarpal Metacarpal midshaft Dist Metacarpal

 

 

  






Pelvis Prox Fem epi Prox Feh shaft Fem midshaft Dist Fem shaft Dist Fem epi Patella


 




 




 












Prox Tibia epi Prox Tibia shaft Tibia midshaft Dist Tibia shaft Dist Tibia epi Tarsal Calcaneus Astragalus













    

     

    











Prox Metatarsal Metatarsal midshaft Dist Metatarsal st  ndPhalange Phalange rd  Phalange Sesamoids


   



  





   

 





 


194

Table  : Picareiro Level F red deer complete bone element repres entation Level F Red Deer

NISP

MNE

MAU

MAU

Cranial Mandible V cervical V thoracic V lumbar Rib Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Carpals Metacarpals Pelvis Femur Tibia Fibula Patella Tarsal Calcaneus Astragalus Metatarsals Phalanges

  
         

  
        

    


  
          






    
 
  







 




Table  : Picareiro Level F red deer skeletal element representation (limb shafts not counted) Level F Red Deer

NISP

MNE

MAU

MAU

Cranial Mandible V cerv V thor V lum Rib Scapula P Humerus D Humerus P Radius D Radius Ulna Carpals P Metacarpal D Metacarpal Pelvis P Femur D Femur P Tibia D Tibia Fibula Patella Tarsal Calcaneus Astragalus P Metatarsal D Metatarsal Phalanges

  




 


    
 

    





   


     






 


 







 




    










         

195

Table 5.6 shows MNE, MAU and %MAU for red deer. The crania are predominately represented by teeth with a few intact maxillae and broken mandibles. Table 5.7 shows MNE estimates for five limb portions contrasted with MNE estimates for limbs using epiphyses only. Clearly, element representation would be much different had limb shafts not been taken into consideration. In fact, counting MNE by epiphyses-only leads to a classic reverse utility curve for kill sites (Figure 5.20) (Binford 1978; Metcalfe and Jones 1988). This could lead to an erroneous conclusion that Picareiro itself was a kill site, dominated by low-utility skeletal parts with most of the limbs transported away, or that carnivores had ravaged the assemblage. Meaty limb elements are in fact present and mostly identified by shaft fragments with few surviving epiphyses. Only dense epiphyses of lower limbs are well represented. The missing epiphyses are the proximal humerus, proximal radius and ulna, proximal and distal femur and proximal tibia. These are precisely the low density but greasy parts most likely to disappear due to natural attrition or carnivore consumption. With limb shafts counted the overall representation is shown in Table 5.7. %MAU shows a high percentage of upper limbs except the ulna and femur. Lower limbs are moderately represented by comparison with the exception of smaller dense carpals and tarsals. However, in the indeterminate species fraction there are a number of carpals and tarsals not identified to species but assignable to a Cervus-sized or medium-ungulate size class. These were smaller than the reference specimen (female Cervus canadensis) and probably came from smaller red deer. In any case, the most abundant elements are limbs while ribs, vertebrae and pelves are scanty. Even counting fragments from the indeterminate species fraction, ribs and vertebrae are very much underrepresented. This

196

could be due to some density-mediated attrition or carnivore-ravaging, though none of these show evidence for carnivore gnawing.

Figure 5.27: red deer femora fragments As with the indeterminate fraction, the identifiable assemblage in each Magdalenian level at Picareiro (and even the undated lower levels) shows a high degree of fragmentation. Patterns of ungulate long bone fragmentation have been used interpret faunal assemblages and infer human behavior for several decades (Binford 1978, 1981; Brain 1981; Bunn 1983, 1986; Speth 1983; Bunn and Kroll 1986; Todd and Rapson 1988). In Picareiro, the long bones show evidence of intentional cracking for marrow extraction. They are highly fragmented with many percussion scars and impact fractures (Figures 5.27; 5.28; 5.29). None of the long bones are complete. The only whole elements are 3rd phalanges,

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Figures 5.28: red deer humeri fragments & 5.29: red deer lower limb fragments

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carpals, tarsals, calcanei, astragali and sesamoids. Every limb element including 1st and 2nd phalanges of red deer are cracked open for marrow extraction. The frequency of small (<2cm) fragments suggests dry bone breakage due to post-depositional trampling of sediment, mostly éboulis. Cutmarks are difficult to assess due to the chemical erosion on many of the bone surfaces. Figure 5.30 shows complete bone %MAU vs (S)FUI for Level F red deer (Figure 5.31a shows the relationship when limb shafts are not counted). Although the correlation is negative it is insignificant. Grayson (1988) has argued that positive significant correlations for %MAU and bone density coupled with insignificant correlations between %MAU and utility indices means that density-mediated destruction and not differential transport is responsible for the assemblage composition. Using Lyman’s (1994: 264) chart for possible combinations of correlation coefficients, it would appear that the Level F red deer fall into his class 4, a ravaged assemblage. As Lyman points out, however, indices of utility, transport and structural density of bone parts are ‘frames of reference,’ and as such their use as explanatory algorithms for skeletal part profiles is not advised; rather, they should be used as one of several steps in building a taphonomic explanation for those profiles (Lyman 1994: 281, emphasis in original). Given the absence of carnivore remains, paucity of carnivore gnaw marks and low impact of density-mediated attrition, absence of limb epiphyses and vertebrae suggests grease extraction. In fact, Binford (1981) discussed the relationship between long bone splinters and articular ends. In carnivore-ravaged assemblages, splinters represent “what is no longer present,” which is the articular ends (p.177). In assemblages left by humans, splinters represent “what remains,” which again are the articular ends. The exception for

199

LP Level F red deer 120 100 80

%MAU

60 40 20 0 -20 0

20

40

60 (S)FUI

80

100

Figure 5.30: Skeletal element frequency vs standardized complete bone food utility

LP Level F red deer 120 100

%MAU

80 60 40 20 0 -20 0

1000

2000

3000 FUI

4000

5000

Figure 5.31a: Skeletal element frequency vs unstandardized food utility Proximal and distal ends using limb epiphyses only

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humans is grease extraction whereby articular ends are destroyed thus mimicking a carnivore-ravaged assemblage. Preservation bias due to density-mediated attrition may have impacted ribs and vertebrae since they are present in very low proportion. However, given the above discussion of carnivore destruction, grease processing and ethnographically observed carcass transport these elements may be absent for other reasons. Both Bunn (1993) and Bartram (1993) observed the removal and consumption of ribs by Hadza and Kua hunters at kill/butchery sites. Transport of elements is difficult to assess given the extremely fragmentary nature of the bones. However, results indicate an equal representation of limbs with the possible exception of femora. It is possible that meat was filleted, dried or smoked in the cave and transported away. However, since cutmarks are rare this is difficult to test. The remaining bones were then cracked open and the marrow consumed onsite. This would appear to contrast with the Hadza model of carcass treatment if Picareiro is considered a butchery site. Obviously it is not a kill site but a place to which animals were transported and processed. Given the size class of the animals hunted, all elements should be represented if entire carcasses were brought to the cave and consumed onsite. The likelihood that the axial portions of animals of such size would have been left at kill sites is low (Bunn 1991, 1993). However, Bartram’s study of Kua carcass treatment provides some interesting possibilities. The number of skeletal elements left behind at Kua kill and/or butchery sites correlated positively with time spent processing. If Magdalenian hunters spent a fair amount of time in Picareiro during each visit that may account for the degree of carcass processing of medium-sized ungulates. Increased occupation time may have led to filleting

201

and drying/smoking of meat from limb elements. Epiphyses and vertebrae may have been carried back to a base camp for grease extraction. The absence of femora and pelves provides further evidence of transport. Binford (1978) noted low frequencies of femora at butchery sites or field camps. A similar pattern was observed by Noe-Nygaard (1977) for Star Carr, though Binford (1981) hypothesized that it was due to site function. David and Farizy (1994) show an under-representation of femora and pelves at Mauran, a Middle Paleolithic bison kill site in France. This site shows a strong positive correlation between %MAU and bone density (PD) and a reverse utility curve for %MAU vs MGUI and %MAU vs RGI (Revised Grease Index) (David and Farizy 1994). Given that limb shafts were counted in MNE estimation Mauran could represent a site with density-mediated attrition or a kill/butchery site where high utility parts were transported away or destroyed during grease production.

Figure 5.33: red deer 1st phalange with impact fracture

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In addition to limb bones, the 1st and 2nd phalanges also show evidence for marrow extraction (Figures 5.33, 5.34 & 5.35). They are all split open and exhibit impact fracturing, similar to ones documented at Erralla (Altuna and Mariezkurrena 1985) and La Riera (Altuna 1986) in Cantabria, at Tossal de la Roca (Perez Ripoll 1992) and Cova de les Cendres (Villaverde and Martinez Valle 1995) in Valencia and at Cingle Vermell (Vila et al. 1985) in Catalunya. Binford (1978) suggested this was a sign of subsistence stress due to the effort required to obtain a small amount of marrow. He observed Nunamiut processing of caribou phalanges only during periods of food shortage and by “old timers” (Binford 1978). Jones and Metcalfe (1988) simplified Binford’s Marrow Index and ranked return rates of caribou body parts. They concluded that despite the high fat content (% oleic acid), phalanges offered the lowest return rates (calories/hour) due to their low cavity volume, caloric content and relatively high processing times. Their expectations derived from optimal foraging theory seem to match the marrow processing patterns Binford observed among Nunamiut hunters. However, the scapula and mandible were also ranked low and not processed by the Nunamiut. The mandible was commonly broken open for marrow extraction by Upper Paleolithic hunters across Eurasia. Jones and Metcalfe (1988) calculated the caloric content of marrow using a constant value of 4 kcal/ml. Since the stated range (0-9 kcal/ml) reflects lipid content fluctuations in bone marrow, the return rates for each element will fluctuate as well. This will not likely affect the ranking of parts but it will increase the value of “low-ranked” parts such as mandibles and phalanges during certain seasons. Of course, the counter argument would be that low ranked resources will not be

203

Figure 5.34: red deer 1st phalanges split to extract marrow (above) & 5.35: 2nd phalanges

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incorporated into the diet unless high ranked ones are no longer available or at least reduced to a certain point. Therefore, according to the diet breadth model, phalanges and mandibles will always be ignored unless overall availability is low. Does the cracking of mandibles and phalanges represent resource depression? Or, does the use of rifles and snowmobiles to hunt caribou inflate the ability of Nunamiut hunters to procure animals to the point that they no longer need to process items that were in the past when technology constrained resource yields? It is not surprising that “old-timers” would still process these parts if they had done so regularly in the past. Still, it could mean that their access to carcass parts was restricted by younger hunters and they were forced to process parts that otherwise may have been ignored or commonly utilized by non-hunting members of society (e.g. women, children and elderly). Jones and Metcalfe (1988) conclude that mandibles, pelvis, scapula and phalanges will be processed in rank order as the nutritional quality of an animal decreases. Therefore, one would expect greater use of these items during stressful periods like the late Winter and especially the early Spring when the fat reserves of ungulates are depleted. Jones and Metcalfe (1988) argue that phalanges would be the last element to suffer fat depletion. Thus, as the amount of fat decreases in each limb element the more valuable phalanges become. Considering that Fall and Winter are not usually thought to be times of dietary stress since animals would have been at their fattest during the Fall through early Winter, the processing of phalanges (and mandibles) for marrow at Picareiro would appear to reflect other factors (Speth & Spielmann 1983). In the Mediterranean region, summer is likely to be the most stressful season given the rainfall regime.

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One possibility could be related to sexual dimorphism. Hunters targeting males could resort to extracting marrow from the phalanges if they were killed during a season of pronounced fat depletion. Food utility indices for sexually dimorphic species should be modified to account for differences in fat content between males and females (Speth 1983; Metcalfe and Jones 1988). Most ungulate females retain higher amounts of fat reserves during winter because of reproductive needs. Therefore, late Winter and early Spring females may also have higher marrow and grease values in limbs compared to males. Perhaps instead this is a signal for large game resource depression. Proponents of optimal foraging theory would argue that the intensive ungulate carcass utilization is a sign of resource depression (e.g., Broughton and O’Connell 1999). Furthermore, they would argue that the high number of rabbit carcasses deposited in caves and rockshelters during the Magdalenian adds further support for resource depression because small game ranks low and would only be included in the diet if higher ranked resources were not available in sufficient quantity. Comparisons between the treatment of large and small game lead to further hypotheses. Hundreds of rabbit carcasses were intensively processed at Picareiro (Hockett and Bicho 2000) (Table 5.9a & b). Carcasses were roasted whole since only the feet have high frequencies of burning. Though cutmark frequencies were not analyzed, the meat was probably removed from the limbs before they were broken open to extract marrow. Almost certainly rabbits were consumed onsite in their entirety. The low frequency of vertebrae suggests they were probably ground into a fat rich meal, a practice common in the Great Basin of the United States (Hockett 1991). Whether this was done onsite or at

206

Table a: Number of Rabbit Bones per Stratum at Lapa do Picareiro STRATUM NISP MNE MAU A







D








E (UPPER)








E (LOWER)








F








G/I

 

 










 



 

J TOTALS

Table b: rabbit elements at Picareiro A D E Upper Lower

F

G/I

J

Total

Mandible Maxilla Innominate Patella Femur Tibia Calcaneus Astragalus Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Carpal/Tarsal Metapodial Phalange Rib Vertebra Sacrum Total

 
     
  
   
 

    

 

      




 




 



  








 



    


     





 
























 
  




          


 




   


  
    



207

base camps is unknown. Although the rabbits represented at Picareiro were consumed locally, we do not know how many may have been procured and transported away from the site. The evidence of repeated use of the large hearth or “bunny pit” suggests the bones do not represent the number of animals processed in the cave. Level G is essentially a finely laminated ash deposit showing multiple uses over a long period. The overlying Level F hearth may only represent the final one or superimposed few uses before disuse. Therefore, it is likely that many more rabbits were procured near the site. Why were hunters at Picareiro? Was it a specialized hunting camp for procuring red deer, wild boar and rabbit? Were the primary goals to maximize meat yield or large game fat and protein yield? Was it to collect rabbit and opportunistically hunt red deer, caprids and wild boar? Or, hunt large game and trap rabbits for immediate consumption? Everything brought in seems to have been consumed. Did ungulate resource depression lead Magdalenian hunters to intensively harvest and process large numbers of rabbit? This question requires knowledge of the seasonal use of the cave and comparisons of large game and rabbit carcass utilization from additional sites in the region.

Seasonality Preliminary seasonality determinations were made using cementum annuli analysis on red deer teeth (Klevezal 1996; Pike-Tay 1991). Work was carried out with Tina Dudley in the MacDonald Institute for Archaeological Research at Cambridge University. Modern specimens from the Scottish Highlands were used as a control sample. Two maxillary M1 teeth from different animals in Stratum F showed late Fall/ early Winter season of death.

208

Figure 5.36: Wild boar phalanges from Picareiro Level F

Figure 5.37: distal wild boar tibia with fusion line still visible

209

Additional determinations were attempted based on the timing of 2nd phalanx epiphyseal fusion in modern wild boar from research by Bull & Payne (1983) and Bridault et al. 2000) (Figure 5.36). This is much more tenuous given the wide range of time estimates between those authors and vagaries in the definition of unfused/fusing/fused. The specimen from Level F is clearly unfused, and would fall within the Bull and Payne 7-11 month category while the specimen from E Middle with a fusing epiphysis, would fall within the 19-23 month category. The Bridault et al. (2000) data from 48 wild boar killed in France have filled the gaps in the Bull and Payne data. The second phalanx is unfused until about 9 months when fusion begins. Complete fusion (line invisible) is achieved by 18 months. Therefore, the unfused specimen in Level F would be less than 9 months old. Had the birth taken place in February, the animal was killed sometime before October. An April birth would but the death sometime before January. Season of death can not be determined reliably because the animal could have been killed any time during the year. The fusing specimen in E Middle came from an animal 9-17 months old. Thus, if the animal were born in February, it died sometime between the following October and July. An April birth would put the season of death between the following January and September. The wide range in fusion time for the second phalanx makes this element an unreliable seasonality indicator. A distal tibia specimen has a fused epiphyses with fusion line still visible (Figure 5.37). This falls within the Bridault et al. (2000) 17-25 month range so that an animal born in February may have been killed between July and March of the following year. An August-born one would indicate a death between January and September. While

210

epiphyseal fusion rates provide useful and reliable age at death estimates for the young wild boar the potential of females giving birth a second time during the year precludes their use for determining season of death. More research using stable isotopes may help determine whether wild boar had two births in the Late Pleistocene (e.g. Balasse et al. 2003). Currently, a more reliable indicator may be the population dynamics observed in modern wild boar. The occurrence of both mature adult males and juveniles would suggest the animals were killed during the reproductive season when adult males join with females. This would imply a late Fall/Winter/possibly early Spring season of death for wild boar at Picareiro. Discussion The other archaeological levels at Picareiro do not have comparable macrofaunal assemblages to Level F. This is probably due to the lack of substantial features like the large hearth or bunny pit. Level J contains a small hearth but it is not yet absolutely dated and there are no fossile directeurs to assign a technological phase (Figure 5.38). Aurochs is present in J though their remains are limited to foot bones. What happened to the rest of their carcasses? There is no indication in the unidentified fraction that any aurochs limbs were left in the cave. The presence of auroch is strange given the elevation of the cave (540 asl). These animals are thought to be lowland plains or forest-living animals, therefore the represented parts should not indicate an auroch was killed nearby and processed so that only feet were brought into the cave. The elements came directly out of the small hearth so it would seem that humans were responsible. Is it possible that a carnivore

211

brought them in and left them inside an abandoned hearth? Perhaps they were bones associated with a foreleg snack brought by one of the hunters.

Figure 5.38: Level J hearth in front of south profile The four ibex teeth recovered in Level I probably indicate a cooler climatic phase but the lack of absolute dates and diagnostic lithics precludes the assignment of this occupation to a cultural period.

No substantial features like the Level F hearth were

found in this level. The occupation during this period was very short. The Magdalenian faunal assemblages from Levels E, F and G are numerically dominated by rabbit. Large numbers of rabbit carcasses were processed and consumed onsite. Entire carcasses of medium ungulates were brought to the cave for processing. Many red deer limb elements were stripped of flesh and the bones broken open to extract marrow. Epiphyses were either consumed by dogs or pounded and boiled (?) to extract

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grease onsite or at a base camp. Wild boar was probably brought to the cave where heads and some lower limb elements were consumed. The rest of the carcass was probably transported away. Therefore, it appears that wild boar were preferentially transported over red deer. This may have been due to nutritional differences between the two. Table 4.12 showed wild boar consistently has more fat than red deer. This may have been the primary motivation for transporting most of the wild boar meat and marrow back to residential camps. The same might be said for chamois but the sample is extremely small. The presence of aurochs is perplexing since the cave is not located near preferred habitat. Marine fish, sardine and shad, are also present in the Magdalenian levels (Bicho et al. 2000). These may have been smoked or dried and carried in as hunters’ snack food. Belcher’s analysis (Bicho et al. 2000) shows a pattern of small fish consumption analogous to that observed ethnoarchaeologically where heads are chewed up and the vertebrae removed and discarded. A small number of marine clam, scallop, limpet, mussel and gastropod shells are further indication that the coast was within the economic catchment of Picareiro. Their presence is not surprising given the fact that other sites nearby contain small shellmiddens dated to the Early Holocene. These are discussed later. In sum, the extraordinarily high number of rabbit bones in the large hearth, carcass butchery and high degree of fragmentation of the large mammal limb elements all indicate the cave was repeatedly used as a hunting/carcass processing camp by groups of hunters from larger residential sites in the surrounding valleys. Seasonality information suggests visits generally occurred during the late Fall and early Winter. The data are too limited to know if the appearance of fish and additional ungulates in the upper levels represent

213

overall dietary diversification. This is almost certainly an artifact of sample size. The Picareiro data alone are not sufficient to test the Broad Spectrum Revolution model or the Bicho and Zilhão models. These require additional information from other sites in the region.

5.4 Lapa do Suão Lapa do Suão is located in a narrow limestone valley about 40 km north of Lisbon and approximately 15 km from the Atlantic Ocean. The cave lies about 50 m above the Roto valley floor and its opening faces NE (Zilhão 1997) (Figure 5.40). The cavity has a long passage with a SW inclination. There is a 25m2 room at the end. The cave was first investigated in the late 19th century by the geologist Carlos Ribeiro (Rocha 1907). Santos Rocha viewed the materials collected by Ribeiro in the cave entrance and concluded that they were from the Iron Age (Rocha 1907). In the 1960s, Furtado et al. (1969) excavated Neolithic and Calcolithic deposits in the entrance and passage. They reported finding numerous microliths, possibly Mesolithic, and a pointe à cran or shouldered point typically Upper Solutrean in Iberia (Cortes et al. 1977). Subsequently, Abbé Jean Roche excavated the Upper Paleolithic deposits at the end of the passage and room 1974 to 1987 (Figure 5.39). Roche’s excavations revealed 12 stratigraphic levels (Figure 5.41) that he interpreted in preliminary reports (Roche 1979, 1982). His archaeological interpretation was based only on the typological and technological analysis of lithic material. Radiocarbon dates were never obtained despite the recovery of numerous charcoal samples in every

214

occupation level. Nevertheless, Level 3 was considered Epipaleolithic and Levels 4-9, Upper Paleolithic. Levels 8 and 9 were classified as Magdalenian based on the presence of sagaies. Roche (1982) interpreted the association of two human teeth with a cache of pierced marine shells, lynx canines, red ochre and charcoal as an intentional human burial. He then interpreted Level 9 as a prepared Magdalenian “floor.” Faunal remains from the Upper Paleolithic levels included red deer, ibex, horse, wild boar, lynx, small rodents, small carnivores, birds, and fish. Despite years of excavation and deep soundings, Roche never reported finding evidence of a Solutrean occupation as suggested by the earlier excavators. Zilhão (1997) re-analyzed the lithic assemblages and concluded that Levels 8 and 9 were Solutrean based on the presence of a few bifacial trimming flakes in the collections from the 1960s. This was supported by a reinterpretation of the stratigraphy and consideration of the pointe à cran (Table 5.10).

Suão

Caldeirão

Levels 

Level A/B/C/Ea

Discontinuity

Discontinuity

Levels 

Level Eb

Discontinuity

Discontinuity and stalagmitic crust formation Levels FaFc

Levels 

Physical description loose mixed soils

Loose brown sandy sediment with limestone blocks

compact reddish sandy clays with limestone blocks

Archaeology

Chronology

Neolithic & Bronze Age Neolithic intrusions into subadjacent levels Magdalenian





bp

Perturbation of the subadjacent levels Upper Solutrean

Table 
: Stratigraphic interpretation of Suão and Caldeirão Caves (After Zilhão  )








bp








bp




 


bp  





bp

215

Q

P

O

N

M

L

K

J

  

      


    


 

Figure : Plan of Lapa do Suão

I

H

216

Figure 5.40: Lapa do Suão Figure 5.41: Stratigraphic profile of Lapa do Suão (Corte 1, 1974) (after Roche 1982)

N O

N

M N

M

L M

L

L

 

  

   




 



217

Zilhão further argued that the Solutrean occupation was located mainly near the cave entrance since the pointe à cran was found there. He concluded that the Solutrean materials in the back of the cave must have been redeposited since the lower deposits are marked by a dip. These deposits filled the SW corner of the cave, leveling the area in which the subsequent Magdalenian occupations took place. In 2000 and 2001, the faunal assemblages were studied by myself and Maria João Valente of the Universidade do Algarve. I studied the Magdalenian and Epipaleolithic levels 3-7 and Valente studied levels 8 and 9 (the supposed Solutrean levels). Preliminary results were presented in a joint paper (Haws and Valente 2001). The materials were kept for several years at the Universidade de Porto where Roche worked. In the late 1980s, the collections were moved to a small regional museum in Bombarral, a municipality located near the cave. These materials are on loan to the National Museum of Archaeology in Lisbon where the analysis took place. Unfortunately, no fauna or charcoal was marked Level 3, the lone Epipaleolithic occupation. Also, many bags from upper levels lacked source tags, forcing us to leave several aside. As a consequence, the majority of the material came from Levels 7, 8 & 9. Charcoal samples were sent to Geochron Laboratories for conventional radiocarbon dating. This was funded by a Geochron graduate student research award. Although the dates are not in sequence all are Pleistocene and fall within the Portuguese Magdalenian between 16,000 and 10,000 years bp (Table 5.11).

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Archaeological level

Radiocarbon date

Level   
/ 

Level  
/ 
Level

 
/
Level




/
Level 
/ 
Level   
/
Table : Absolute dates for Lapa do Suão (uncalibrated radiocarbon years bp)

Lab number GX  GX   GX 
GX  GX  GX 

Prior to dating, the charcoal samples were identified by Marjeta Jeraj and myself at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. The work is still in progress, however the bottom two levels are complete. Levels 8 and 9 both contain wood charcoal from species comprising a mixed Atlantic and Mediterranean vegetation cover. These include deciduous oak, pine, juniper, Rosaceae (wild fruit trees), olive, and other Mediterranean varieties. The Suão charcoal is similar in composition to the Magdalenian assemblage identified by Figueiral at Cabeço de Porto Marinho, with the exception of evergreen oak and wild strawberry. The microfauna from all levels are a typical Mediterranean suite including Microtus lusitanicus, Arvicola terrestris and Eliomys quercinus. If one accepts the Level 8 date of c. 15,000 bp, then the charcoal and microfaunal data fit the notion that the post-LGM warming trend was well underway in Portugal prior to the Dryas I.

Faunal analysis for Lapa do Suão The large mammal remains total 339 specimens of which 83 were identified to species or genera (Table 5.12). The majority of these are red deer, followed by Iberian lynx (Lynx pardina) and wild boar. Additional species include fox, wolf and unidentified mustelid (cf. Meles meles), equid and caprid. As Table 5.12 shows, Levels 4, 5 and 6 contained few

219

specimens. In contrast, Levels 7, 8 and 9 were much richer in the number and variety of species. Level 

Level 

Level 

Level

Level 

Red Deer Wild Boar Caprinae Auroch Horse indet














 











 
 

Wolf Fox Lynx Mustelid

















  

  


Table  : Macrofauna NISP in Lapa do Suão

Little can be said of the upper levels due to the scarcity of faunal remains. A burned and cut-marked Iberian lynx ulna was recovered in Level 6. This might be interpreted as evidence for the use of lynx for pelts or teeth but it could have been for food. Though lynx are rare in Portugal today, they were hunted and eaten by rural people until the 1940s (Valente, pers. com.). The Level 7 herbivores include both adult and juvenile red deer and wild boar. Only one burned portion was recovered and four fragments had cut marks, three of them limb shafts. Carnivores are represented by lynx, wolf, fox and a mustelid. In this level, no cut marks were found on the lynx. Levels 8 and 9 contained two adults and one juvenile red deer, a single wild boar, horse and ibex. As in the previous layer, burned bone is rare. Cut marks were observed on red deer and wild boar bones, plus a few indeterminate specimens. Most of these are shallow, oriented diagonal or perpendicular to the longitudinal axis of the bone and likely from defleshing the carcass of the animal.

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Red Deer

Mandible Maxilla Femur Tibia Pelvis Tarsal Metapodial st  Phal nd Phal rd  Phal

Level  NISP










Level  MNE










NISP











Level  MNE











NISP










Level

MNE










NISP  

  



Table  a:Red deer NISP in Lapa do Suão

Table : Lapa do Suão Rabbit MNE   



Total

Mandible Maxilla Innominate Patella Femur Tibia Calcaneus Astragalus Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Carpal/Tarsal Metapodial Phalange Rib Vertebra Sacrum

 
 

  





 

 


 






  
  
    

   

 




      
   








   

 



     



   
    


     

 

 

Total







 



 

Level  MNE  

  



NISP 
 
   

MNE 
 
   

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Some of the wild boar, fox and indeterminate specimens exhibit tooth marks consistent with carnivore gnawing. In all three levels, some limb shafts show impact fractures and other breakage indicative of marrow extraction. One red deer phalanx was split longitudinally as at Picareiro. While carnivore activity may have impacted the assemblage, density-mediated attrition is unlikely given the near-complete absence of ungulate teeth. These observations led Haws and Valente (2001) to believe humans deposited the majority of large herbivore remains, possibly even the lynx. The NISP for the macrofauna here are so few in number that analyses comparable to Picareiro Level F are impossible (Table 5.12a). If Magdalenian hunters were bringing significant numbers of red deer and wild boar into the cave, they only minimally processed them and transported entire carcasses away. Because Suão is located in a narrow valley that opens onto a broad coastal plain, residential base camps may have been located close enough to obviate the need for extended occupations in the cave. This may explain why so few large animal remains were recovered. Rabbits As with Picareiro, rabbit remains numerically dominate the Suão assemblage. Over 5,000 rabbit bones were recovered from Lapa do Suão, representing at least 234 individuals (Table 5.13). Five hare bones were also identified. Hockett (1991, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1999) has observed bone damage and skeletal element patterns typical of raptors, carnivores and humans. A general discussion can be found in Hockett and Haws (2002). His actualistic studies of raptor nests show distinct, regular types of damage to rabbit bones by owls and eagles. The eagle owl (Bubo bubo) commonly

222

nests at the entrances of caves and above rockshelters in Iberia. Hockett (1995) found a predominance of hindlimbs over forelimbs in owl assemblages. Eagle owl assemblages in Spain display considerable variability (Sanchis Serra 2000). Some lack forelimbs others contain more forelimbs than hindlimbs. Cranial elements are more common in some than others. Lumbar vertebrae and sacra often greatly outnumber cervical and thoracic vertebrae. The assemblages studied by Sanchis Serra lack abundant foot elements but that may be due to collector bias. High degrees of breakage are typical of owl assemblages. Damage typically occurs on the limb epiphyses (especially the greater trochanter of the femur), vertebrae and innominates (primarily near the acetabulum) (Hockett 1991, 1994, 1995; Sanchis Serra 2000). Spiral fractures are common but bone cylinders are rare. Broken limbs are generally characterized by epiphyses with attached shaft portions. Beak and talon punctures occur on 2-3% of bones, usually on one side (Hockett 1991, 1995). Rabbit bones from carnivore dens and scats typically show signs of etching and polishing. Large carnivores such as wolves and coyotes completely destroy rabbit bones during consumption (Schmitt and Juell 1994). Small carnivores often leave bones intact but with characteristic damage such as tooth punctures on both sides limb bones (Hockett 1989, 1995; Pérez Ripoll 1993; Valente 2000). In Iberia the two main predators of rabbits are the Iberian lynx and fox. No actualistic studies of rabbit consumption patterns by Iberian lynx have been undertaken. Sanchis Serra (2000) conducted a study of rabbit bones from three zones within a single fox den. Hockett (1999) analyzed the bone assemblage from a carnivore den at the entrance to Picareiro. Punctures occurred on less than 1% of the total assemblage. These were located on both sides of limb epiphyses and

223

the innominate. Valente (2000) studied the faunal remains including rabbit from the Early Upper Paleolithic site, Pego do Diabo. This site contained a carnivore-accumulated assemblage that was thought originally to have been associated with lithic artifacts (Zilhão 1995). Human-created rabbit bone assemblages are known from definite cultural contexts within archaeological sites in the Great Basin of the United States, the Spanish Mediterranean Region and now Portugal (Vila et al. 1985; Drews and Schmitt 1986; Hockett 1989, 1991, 1992, 1995; Schmitt 1990; Rowley-Conwy 1992; Pérez Ripoll 1992, 1993; Hockett and Bicho 2000; Hockett and Haws 2002). Studies of these sites reveals a great deal of similarity in skeletal element patterns when humans process and consume rabbit carcasses. Three sites in the Great Basin all had high representation of mandibles, tibiae, scapulae, skulls and ribs (Hockett 1994, 1995) (Table 5.14). Vertebrae and sacra were present in very low frequencies. The long bones, mainly tibiae, were processed for marrow

224

Element

Mineral Hill Cave

Hogup Cave

NY

mandible maxilla scapula humerus radius ulna sacrum innominate femur tibia

 


 

 


    



    


   


   
  
 
  

vertebra NISP/MAU    MNE/NISP      NISP Total   
  MNE Total 
 
 
 Table : Comparison of rabbit MAU between three Great Basin sites (After Hockett and Haws

)

extraction by breaking or biting off the epiphyses creating cylinders through which marrow could be pushed through or sucked out. The tibiae in the rabbit is the largest limb bone and thus contains the most marrow. This explains why tibia cylinders occur in greater frequencies in archaeological sites than other limb bones. Ethnographic observations of Great Basin Shoshone groups by Steward led Hockett (1995) to conclude that the paucity of vertebrae and sacra at archaeological sites was due to bone meal processing. The Shoshone regularly pounded and ground axial elements and soft greasy epiphyses on milling stones. Tibiae cylinders have also been recovered in large numbers from Upper Paleolithic sites in Iberia (Vila et al. 1985; Pérez Ripoll 1993; Hockett and Bicho 2000; Hockett and Haws 2002). At Cingle Vermell in Catalunya, Faro noted an overwhelming majority of rabbit tibiae were fractured near both epiphyses (Vila et al. 1985). Though Faro does not

225

suggest marrow removal, the pattern implies the creation of tibia cylinders. Fractures at the distal ends of the radius, ulna and tibia were interpreted as evidence for the removal of the feet. Pérez Ripoll (1992, 1993), working independently (and seemingly unaware of Hockett’s work) came to very similar conclusions as Hockett concerning rabbit butchery patterns. At the Magdalenian sites, Santa Maira, Tossal de la Roca and Cueva de Nerja, he attributed the distinct pattern of rabbit long bone cylinders to marrow removal. Magdalenian and Epipaleolithic hunters created numerous shaft cylinders on the tibia, femur and much less frequent ones on the humerus (Pérez Ripoll 1993). Additional taphonomic traces of human agency in rabbit bone assemblages are the presence of cutmarks and burning. In his analysis of the bones from Santa Maira, a Late Upper Paleolithic site in southeast Spain, Pérez Ripoll (1993) found up to 60% of the bones had identifiable cutmarks. There is, however, considerable variability in cutmark frequencies (Hockett and Haws 2002). Evidence of burning on the feet and distal ends of lower limbs is also common in archaeological rabbit bone assemblages (Hockett 1991; Pérez Ripoll 1993). Only 3-6.5% of the rabbit bones from Cingle Vermell were burned. Though distributed evenly across skeletal parts, many distal tibiae and radii had been burned. Conversely, at Picareiro, phalanges, metapodials, calcanei and astragali were the most common element burned indicating whole carcasses were probably roasted with the feet still attached (Hockett and Bicho 2000). The majority of rabbit specimens from Lapa do Suão are mandibles, limb bones, in particular tibiae and femora, and innominates. The abundance of these elements is not due to differential transport or raptors, which often deposit greater numbers of hind limbs

226

than fore limbs as shown above. Most of the radii and ulnae are broken in half and distal humeri, so common in Picareiro, are infrequent. The absence of small elements is probably due to the use of a wide mesh screen during the excavation as well as curation bias. Table 5.15 shows MNE, MAU and %MAU of rabbit in Picareiro Level F. In Table 5.16 it is clear that there is a strong bias against small skeletal elements at Suão. This is almost certainly due to the excavation and screen methods used at each site. At Picareiro, elements as small as phalanges were piece-plotted. All other small elements were collected in the fine-mesh screen. Figure 5.42 compares rabbit %MAU in Suão with Picareiro. There are important differences between the two sites. At Suão, both Level 7 and 8+9 have remarkably similar body part profiles. The small foot bones aside, Picareiro has better forelimb representation. Both sites lack axial elements except the pelvis. Hockett and Haws (2002) compared vertebra representation between accumulators. Human-created assemblages typically lack vertebrae compared to raptors and carnivores. It would appear that prehistoric people at both sites ground the vertebrae, sacra and ribs into bone meal as Hockett (1994, 1995) has noted in the Great Basin and at Picareiro (Hockett and Bicho 2000). Alternatively, density-mediated attrition due to chemical weathering or carnivores may have played a role in the Suão assemblage formation. Pavao and Stahl (1999) used a photon absortiometer to measure bone density in several species of leporids. They made two calculations: one based on Lyman et al.’s (1992) methodology for marmots which normed volume density using squares or rectangles, and their method of shape-adjusting using circles, triangles, etc. to reduce air space in the estimation of volume density (Pavao

227

Table : Rabbit skeletal element representation at Picareiro Level F Level F MNE MAU MAU

Suão

Mandible Maxilla Innominate Patella Femur Tibia Calcaneus Astragalus Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Carpal/Tarsal Metapodial Phalange Rib Vertebra Sacrum

 
     
  
   
 

   

Total



  

   

 

 

       

  

  

 



       

Level

MNE

MAU

MAU

Level  MNE

MAU

MAU

Mandible Maxilla Innominate Patella Femur Tibia Calcaneus Astragalus Scapula Humerus Radius Ulna Carpal/Tarsal Metacarpal Metatarsal Phalange Rib Vertebra Sacrum








      

  



  
      


 
   



 


      

     






   

 



       



 

 
       
     

 





 

  


 
 


  

Total

 



Table : Skeletal element representation of rabbit at Lapa do Suão























Suão

Suão 

Picareiro F

Figure  :Rabbit MAU

228

229

and Stahl 1999). Though positive, significant correlations were found between their shapeadjusted VD (VDSA), the scan site density rank shows some striking differences between the two methods. The results using the Lyman et al. (1992) method match those expected from other taxa. That is to say, limb epiphyses are generally the weakest structurally and limb shafts are strongest (Table 5.17 and 5.18). Counterintuitively, however, the VDSA results show that some of the weakest portions in the traditional method are strongest. For example, the proximal humerus epiphysis ranks as one of the densest scan sites, higher than the distal epiphysis which is often one of the strongest limb epiphyses. Both methods show the proximal tibia is denser than the distal end. The densest portion using the traditional method is the femoral midshaft, whereas it ranks 10th in the VDSA method. Figure 5.44 shows there is no clear pattern between VDSA and limb portion representation. Figure 5.45 shows rabbit limb MNE for Suão Level 7. It is clear that the rabbit limb portions most under-represented are those traditionally thought of as the weakest structurally. Therefore, it would appear that something in the shape-adjusted method is badly skewing the results (Hockett pers. com.). Given the absence of small, usually dense foot bones due to screen size, full comparisons between skeletal element representation and bone density using either method cannot be made. With regard to carnivores, Walter (1984) documented the tremendous destructive action by dogs of small game bones in hunter-gatherer sites in Australia. However, the sheer numbers of bones left suggests medium/large carnivores did not impact the rabbit assemblage. The lack of physical traces such as thinning and polishing, and element survivorship effectively eliminates carnivores as agents of post-depositional destruction

230 Table  : Rabbit bone density values (Adapted from Pavao and Stahl ) VD (LD/BT) rank VD (SA) AC AS AT AX CA CA DN DN DN DN DN FE FE FE FE FE FE HU HU HU HU HU IL IL IS IS LU MC MC MT MT MT PA PH PH PU RA RA RA RA RA RI RI RI RI













































































































 

  

       

  


     



  

    
      



 
 

 


















 
 








































rank  
 



  

 

         

    
         


 

231

Table  cont’d VD (LD/BT) RI SC SP SP SP ST TI TI TI TI TI UL UL UL UL

rank







 ND ND

VD (SA) 


ND ND


























       

Table  : Top ten rank of rabbit scan sites Note the femur midshaft rank (FE) VD (LD/BT) VD (SA)  FE DN DN FE  AX TI  DN HU  IL TI  IL AC

HU DN CA CA  FE HU 
HU FE





























rank 
             

232

LS Level 7 rabbit

portion count (MNE)

140 120 100 80 60 40 20 0 0

.1

.2

.3 .4 VD(SA)

.5

.6

.7

Figure 5.44: Lapa do Suão rabbit MNE vs bone density Density data from Pavao and Stahl (1999)

Figure : Suão rabbit limb portion MNE 








hu

ra pepi

ul pdia

dia

fe ddia

depi

ti

233

(Payne and Munson 1984; Schmitt and Juell 1994). Additional evidence of human consumption is the high degree of fragmentation of the appendicular rabbit bones. In contrast to raptors and humans, carnivores often deposit a high number of complete or near complete appendicular elements. At Suão only about 1% of the humeri, femora and tibiae are complete. Both Valente and I observed a number of proximal and distal long bone fragments but shaft cylinders and fragments (about 60%) were more common (Figures 5.47 a & b). These data support idea that the majority of breakage occurs on the meat-bearing extremities to facilitate the removal of the marrow as observed by Hockett at Picareiro (Hockett and Bicho 2000) and Pérez Ripoll (1992, 1993) in the Spanish Mediterranean Region. Valente (n.d.) also studied the bones for cutmarks in order to confirm human agency. She concluded that about 10% of long bones had cut marks in Levels 7 and 8+9. Most of these were tibiae, normally on the ventral side of the proximal diaphysis. On these and other long bones, the marks are normally diagonal to the longitudinal axis, with some deeper perpendicular marks. Cutmarks on the mandible are diagonal to the anterior/ posterior axis. She interpreted these data as evidence for skin removal rather than disarticulation or fracturation, which may have produced deeper marks. Based on work by Hockett (1991, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1999), humans likely deposited most of the rabbits. Only a few modifications by raptors and small carnivores were observed. These include a few bones with multiple and single punctures. How were rabbits procured? There is no evidence for nets or cordage from any Upper Paleolithic

234

Figure 5.47a: rabbit tibiae cylinders from Lapa do Suão Level 7 Figure 5.47b: rabbit femur cylinders from Lapa do Suão Level 7

235

site in Portugal. However, this technology is known archaeologically from at least the Gravettian in central Europe if not much earlier in other parts of the Old World (Adovasio et al. 1996). There is little doubt that all Upper Paleolithic peoples utilized fibrous material to makes nets and cordage useful in traps and snares. Rabbit drives are known ethnographically from the Southwest and Great Basin of the United States (Shaffer and Gardner 1995). Schmidt (1999) used element representation in rabbit assemblages from Arizona to determine whether or not drives were used prehistorically. One site, the Five Feature site, contained high NISP and overall percentage of rabbit bones in the faunal assemblage. Interestingly, the elements represented are distal tibiae, calcanei, astragali, tarsals, metapodials and phalanges. Only two bones out of 802 came from another skeletal element. This patterning led Schmidt (1999) to conclude that the Five Feature site was the processing location for rabbits collected in a prehistoric communal drive. If this element representation pattern can be seen as diagnostic, then neither Picareiro nor Suão would fit into this category. Further evidence suggestive of rabbit drives in prehistory is provided by Hudson (1994). At one site in California (KER-526) she noted that cranial elements far outnumbered limbs and other parts. Hudson (1994) concluded that large numbers rabbits had been taken through drives with the heads subsequently removed prior to transport. A few were probably consumed onsite accounting for the additional elements. This pattern, if considered diagnostic, is also not apparent at Picareiro or Suão. Considering rabbit ecology, there are behavioral differences between the European rabbit and hares that probably make drives unlikely for the former and more likely for the latter (Hockett 1992; Hockett and Haws 2002). The European rabbit is a territorial animal

236

that forms harems and lives in burrows (Garson 1981; Soriguer and Rogers 1981). They are best hunted by stalking individuals, trapping and snaring, or digging them out of their holes. Because rabbit warrens are easily recognizable to the trained eye, prehistoric hunters would have known their locations and regularly exploited them. Hares, on the other hand, are solitary and live in nests on the ground surface. Hare hunting would probably have been less profitable than rabbit because they would be too infrequent to hunt individually. They do, however, congregate and migrate in large numbers during stressful times (Angerman 1981). Hunters could much more easily drive large numbers of hares into nets at various times of the year (Hockett and Haws 2002). Rabbits at Picareiro and Suão were more than likely taken by traps , snares and possibly with bow and arrow (Hockett and Bicho 2000). Net hunting was unlikely due rabbit behavior (Lupo and Schmitt 2002). In all likelihood, rabbits were hunted by individuals or small groups who set out traps or snares while engaged in other activities. As with Picareiro, numerous rabbits were stripped of meat and probably consumed onsite. The fact that marrow was removed from the humeri, femora and tibiae provides further evidence of immediate consumption. It is very likely that additional carcasses, possibly smoked rabbit meat and axial parts of the skeleton were transported to other locations nearby. Avifauna Several species of birds were present in the Upper Paleolithic levels. A total of 118 bones were recovered in Level 7 (Table 5.19). The most representative species are Anas platyrynchos (mallard) and Alectoris rufa (red-legged partridge). No remains of raptors

237

were found. Some of the duck bones have cut-marks, mostly on the humerus, coracoid and ulna (Figure 5.48). According to Bochenski et al. (1999) golden eagles and other raptors that prey on other birds, leave higher percentages of sterna, Table : Bird NISP at Lapa do Suão

Level 

Alectoris rufa Anas platyrhynchos Corvidae Corvus monedula Garrulus glandarius Pyrrhocorax pyrrhocorax Tordus sp



Level





Level 





 present

coracoids, scapulae and humeri in the unswallowed portion than other elements. Owls typically leave higher proportions of wing elements. At Suão, the most frequent bird bones are humeri, radii, coracoids, carpo-metacarpi and ulnae. The latter are usually missing both epiphyses forming bone cylinders though not for the same reason as those from rabbits. Bird bones do not contain marrow. Instead they are hollow to aid in lift and flight. In this case, the missing epiphyses are probably due to eating habits whereby the soft epiphyses are chewed off (cf. Steadman et al. 2002). Still, the possibility for bird bone stock is open for suggestion. Garcia Petit (1995) has argued for such a practice during the Magdalenian at Bora Gran in Catalunya. Several limb elements from geese and bustard were recovered as bone cylinders. A similar pattern is documented at the Magdalenian site Grotte de les Églises in southern France (Laroulandie 1998). Lefèvre (1992) observed this phenomenon in prehistoric and historic sites in Patagonia. She attributed the lack of epiphyses to human chewing behavior eased by incomplete fusion. Raptors or carnivores

238

Figure 5.48: cutmarked duck coracoid

cannot be ruled out as agents in the deposition of bird bones at Suão but the element representation, presence of cutmarks and breakage patterns strongly suggests predominately human agency. Aquatic fauna As for the marine fauna, Roche (1982) reported a variety of molluscan species, clams, mussels, limpets and gastropods and a single fish, gilthead (Table 5.20). The marine shells were almost certainly all ornamental as there was no shellmidden reported and the number of shells is low. Many are perforated, especially the Littorina and Nassarius. Nevertheless, the collection of these species, mostly from littoral environments, a fairly large exploitation territory for Suão. Given the screen size used, the fish remains may be greatly underrepresented. Table 
: Marine and freshwater shellfish at Lapa do Suão

Cerastoderma edule Mytilus edulis Scrobicularia plana Solen marginatus Tapes decussata Patella sp Cerithium vugatum Littorina obtusata Nassarius reticulata Trivia monacha Turritela sp Semicassis undulata Theodoxus fluviatilis

Level 



Level





Level 







Discussion To summarize, the Suão fauna is numerically dominated by rabbit. Red deer, wild boar, equids, caprids and carnivores are also present. Additional small animals include

240

birds, molluscs, fish, reptiles, bats, voles and dormice. Given that most of the cave sediments were excavated it is likely that the existing sample of Magdalenian artifacts and food refuse represents the nature of site function. However, the possibility that many of the animal bones were discarded outside the entrance of the cave could mean that the sample from the interior is strongly biased in favor of smaller, more fragmented remains. The preponderance of rabbit fits the general pattern in Upper Paleolithic caves and rockshelters. For ungulates, red deer is most abundant, as it is in the Magdalenian levels at Caldeirão and Picareiro. The absence of auroch is perhaps strange since Suão is located much closer to prime auroch habitat than Picareiro. The fauna, wood charcoal and radiocarbon dates conform to Roche’s conclusion that the site is Magdalenian and the Solutrean artifacts derive from an occupation that eroded away. That Roche ignored the numerous rabbit bones in his publication may be due more to the fact that most of these were found in later, unpublished excavations than a dismissal that humans hunted rabbits. Birds are relatively rare in Magdalenian sites in central Portugal. Suão and Caldeirão are the only sites where waterfowl and partridges, common prey types in Spanish Magdalenian sites, have been found. Picareiro has a few bird bones but these are of songbird size (Bicho et al. 2000). Suão is located upslope from a small stream winding through a narrow valley. Within a kilometer or two, this valley opens to a low coastal plain. This is a fairly unique location for a fauna-bearing Late Upper Paleolithic site in Portugal and perhaps explains the presence of several avian prey types. However, it may also relate to differences in the season of occupation of Suão compared to other sites further inland.

241

Seasonality determination at Suão is made difficult because of the absence of teeth for sectioning or crown height measurements. The primary evidence lies in the rabbit mortality profile. The rabbit assemblage is dominated by adults but does contain a few juveniles, unlike Picareiro which is almost entirely comprised of adults. Of a total of 2,444 rabbit elements in Suão Level 8+9, Valente (n.d.) identified 94 juvenile rabbit elements from approximately 13 individuals, about 9% of the total MAU. At Picareiro, Hockett has reported that 99.4% of the rabbit limb epiphyses were fused (Hockett and Bicho 2000). Rabbit seasonality at Picareiro was determined by comparison of the mortality pattern and modern rabbit ecology. Rabbits in Spain and Portugal have two birthing peaks coinciding with fall and spring rainfall (Soriguer and Rogers 1981). There is a high mortality rate for juvenile rabbits so that within a few months the juveniles have either matured or been killed by predators. Therefore, archaeological assemblages dominated by adult rabbits may have been formed during winter and/or summer (Hockett and Bicho 2002). Unless, of course, hunters were selectively targeting adults. Lupo and Schmitt (2002) have argued that traps and snares tend to catch adults more often than not because juveniles either do not follow adults into traps or are too small to trip snares. If however, one accepts the use of mortality patterns to determine season of capture, then Suão may have been occupied slightly earlier or later during the year than Picareiro when subadult rabbits were still present, perhaps the early Fall or late Spring.

5.5 Additional fauna-bearing Final Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic sites in Portuguese Estremadura

242

Gruta do Caldeirão Much of the data used to reconstruct Late Pleistocene environment and Upper Paleolithic subsistence in central Portugal comes from Caldeirão Cave. As mentioned above, Caldeirão (‘cauldron’ in Portuguese) was excavated in the 1980s by Zilhão. The Middle and Upper Paleolithic macrofaunal assemblages from Caldeirão were recently studied and published by Davis (2002). This was the first systematic study of the Paleolitic material and his results form the basis for discussion here. As with Picareiro and Suão rabbit is the most abundant animal represented. The rabbit assemblages have been analyzed by Newton (n.d.) but only NISP is available as the full results are unpublished. The ungulates in the Magdalenian level are best represented by red deer, followed by wild boar, horse, aurochs, chamois, ibex and roe deer. Carnivores include lynx, leopard (Panthera pardus), wildcat, fox and badger (Meles meles). Other small animals include hare, beaver (Castor fiber), birds and fish. The birds are represented by chough (Pyrrhocorax pyhhrocorax), magpie (Pica pica), pigeon (Columba palumbus), partridge (Alectoris rufa) and little owl (Athene noctua) (Davis 2002). The methodology Davis used differs from Americanist zooarchaeological tradition. He followed the “diagnostic zones” method outlined by Watson (1979) in his study of Khirokitia. Comparisons between Picareiro and Caldeirão are therefore difficult because of differences in analytical methods. The diagnostic zones method was designed to avoid problems associated with counts based on NISP and MNI. Watson (1979) argued that NISP counting would artificially inflate the skeletal element frequency because the same

243

bone could be counted more than once if fragmentation was high. Potentially, each specimen could be assumed to come from a different animal (Grayson 1984). In addition, MNI estimates would also be inflated if the whole site was not excavated, which is almost always the case. As Grayson (1984) has also pointed out, MNI counts exaggerate the relative importance of rare species. To solve these problems, Watson devised a list of diagnostic zones on each element that would serve as criteria for counting a specimen or not. The method results in a count that appears similar to landmark MNE. Davis (2002) used a very restricted diagnostic zone approach. For instance, the tibia count was based solely on the medial half of the distal epiphysis. So, the lateral half of the distal end, the entire shaft and the proximal end of the tibia would not be counted. All specimen counts were based on mandibular teeth and limb epiphyses. As Davis states, this was done ”so that data from Caldeirão can be easily interpreted and used by other zoo-archaeologists working on the same material…” (Davis 2002: 33). Furthermore, he reasons that the selected zones provide sufficient data on body part representation to be used in determining butchery and transport patterns. From a zoological point of view, this may be useful in identifying species. However, from an archaeological standpoint, this method leads to a serious bias in the data. Clearly, this method precludes direct comparison with Picareiro, especially with regard to limb elements. As shown above, limbs were divided by portion and the MNE was calculated for each portion. Though bones with more than one portion are counted in each category they are not “counted twice.” Each bone specimen is counted and the recorded portions are then tallied to arrive at MNE estimation. In Davis’ method, a specimen is only counted if a certain diagnostic

244

part is present. A tibia represented by the proximal end would end up in the “unidentified” and “non-countable” pile. If every limb specimen was a complete element this method would be satisfactory. However, this is almost never the case in archaeofaunal assemblages. Element fragmentation and density-mediated attrition of soft epiphyses due to natural weathering, carnivore gnawing or human grease processing will result in underrepresentation of limb elements (Bunn 1986; Bunn and Kroll 1986; Marean and Spencer 1991; Marean 1995; Marean and Frey 1997; Marean and Kim 1998). The comparison between Figures 5.31 and 5.31a showed the differences in limb element representation at Picareiro when limb shafts are counted or not. Counts based solely on one end of a limb bone also precludes any comparison between element survivorship and bone density. Therefore, density-mediated attrition, carnivore activity and human butchery and transport of ungulates at Caldeirão cannot be evaluated. Only 93 specimens or 4% of the Magdalenian assemblage (N=2164) were identified to element or species using the diagnostic zones approach. The Caldeirão sample does provide some useful biometric data, which when combined with similar data from Picareiro, can be compared against the larger data set on Pleistocene large mammals in Portugal published by Cardoso (1995) (Table 5.21). Further comparison between Cantabria (Mariezkurrena and Altuna 1983; Klein and Cruz-Uribe 1994) and Mediterranean Spain (Davidson 1989; Morales 1995) can provide a context for reconstructing ungulate biomass in central Portugal during the Late Pleistocene. This is useful to understanding prey selection, resource quality and availability for prehistoric hunter-gatherers. Davis’ (2002) measurements on Caldeirão red deer shows no size

245

Table 5.21: Red deer Metatarsal Bd Mean Max. OIS 2 Fontainhas (P) 38.8 43.0 Caldeirão 38.1 38.8 Casais Robustos (P) 42.0 Lapa da Rainha (P) 40.0 41.0

Min.

N

31.5 36.4 39.0

3 2 1 2

Solutrean Caldeirão Fb Fa La Riera Altamira

39.2 45.2 44.0 45.4

48.0 49.5 47.2

42.3 41.5 44.1

1 2 4 6

Magdalenian Caldeirão Eb Picareiro F João Ramos (P) La Riera Urtiaga Tito Bustillo La Paloma Altamira El Castillo El Juyo

37.5 39.9 36.2 44.6 46.4 44.7 43.6 45.1 44.4 44.7

44.0 38.5 47.0 52.5 49.5 48.5 49.2 53.0 48.9

37.4 34.0 41.0 42.7 42.0 40.5 42.5 39.6 41.4

1 3 5 4 15 17 25 14 61 25

Postglacial 41.7 50.5 35.4 23 Modern 36.1 41.0 33.0 29 Data from Cardoso (1995), Mariezkurrena & Altuna (1983) Klein & Cruz-Uribe (1994), and Davis (2002).. P= paleontological

246

Table 5.22: Red deer astragalus GLl Mean Middle Paleolithic Furninha (P) 57.0 Figueira Brava 58.3 Lorga de Dine (P) 56.6 Caldeirão 54.7

Max.

Min.

N

63.0

51.0

2 1 1 1

56.0

50.0

54.3 52.0 58.7

53.8 51.7 48.0

15 1 2 2 9 1

EUP (OIS2) Fontainhas (P) Caldeirão Pego do Diabo (P) Gruta de Salemas Pedreira de Salemas Lapa da Rainha (P)

53.0 55.3 54.0 51.7 53.5 54.0

Solutrean Parpalló 6 7 9+10 Algar de Cascais Escoural Caldeirão

50.8 49.6 50.6 58.0 50.4 54.4

54.7 52.7 54.1

44.6 46.8 45.9

54.5 57.7

46.0 52.7

Magdalenian Parpalló 1 2 3 Bora Gran Urtiaga Nerja Caldeirão Picareiro F João Ramos (P)

51.8 51.8 49.9 57.1 57.2 53 52.8 53.1 54.2

57.2 55.6 55.2

46.2 47.9 45.7

67.1

50.7

54.3 54.9 55.0

50.7 50.7 53.5

33 6 24 1 8 4

47 36 30 12 22 1 4 5 2

Data from Davidson (1989), Morales (1995) and Davis (2002).. P= Paleontological

247

differences between the Middle Paleolithic and the end of the Pleistocene. Size diminution in red deer appears to have occurred sometime during the Holocene when the data are compared to modern red deer from Navarra (Mariezkurrena and Altuna 1983; Davis 2002). The red deer from sites in Portugal are smaller on average than those from Cantabrian Spain at least during the Early Upper Paleolithic and Magdalenian. The only EUP sample from Spain is the El Castillo sample (not shown) that probably dates about 15 ky earlier than the OIS 2 Portugal sample. This group was much larger (X=47.7: Klein and CruzUribe 1994: Fig.5) than the specimens from Portugal. During the Solutrean the Caldeirão specimens are within the range of the Cantabrian ones except the sample from Fa. Level Fa at Caldeirão dates after the Last Glacial Maximum and may be related to the so-called “Solutreo-Gravettian” from Mediterranean Spain (Zilhão 1997). Does this mean that LGM forage quality was similar between Cantabria and Portuguese Estremadura? Zilhão (1990, 1997) has argued on a number of occasions that Estremadura had cool dry Artemisiasteppe conditions during the LGM. Comparing the Magdalenian samples it would appear that Cantabria may have had better red deer forage than Estremadura after 15,000 bp. This corresponds to a return of warm, humid mixed Mediterranean evergreen and deciduous forests in Portugal which may have lowered the potential for red deer body size. No red deer metatarsal measurements are available from Mediterranean Spain but Davidson (1989) and Morales (1995) report astragali dimensions from Parpalló, Urtiaga, Bora Gran and Nerja. These are shown with measurements from Picareiro, Caldeirão (Davis 2002) and other Upper Pleistocene sites in Portugal in Table 5.22. Once again the

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Cantabrian samples are much larger. Five astragali from Picareiro fall easily in the range (on the larger end) of those from Parpalló. They also fall in the same range as the Caldeirão sample. Davis (2002) argued that there appeared to be a decrease in astragali size between the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene. The Holocene samples do appear to be smaller, however those samples are still in the range for Parpalló. It could be that the Parpalló sample has a larger number of females and is thus skewing the range. Mariezkurrena and Altuna (1983) documented sexual dimorphism in red deer from Navarra though there was overlap. The largest of the modern Navarra sample is smaller than the smallest one from Caldeirão. It could be that males were represented by the astragali from Picareiro and Caldeirão.

Bocas, Casal Papagaio, Pena da Mira Bocas rockshelter was excavated in the 1930s by Manuel Heleno, an historian with the National Museum. The site had several components including Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic but they were never reported. Heleno did not keep field notes and the only clue to the site comes from his drawing of the stratigraphic profile. Bicho (1995-1997) recently analyzed the lithic material and obtained radiocarbon dates on bone and shell for the lower levels. The Final Magdalenian and Epipaleolithic levels date 10,110-9,900 bp. The small faunal assemblage includes auroch, horse, red deer, wild boar, ibex and chamois and is being studied by Valente. In addition to the terrestrial fauna, a small shellmidden was excavated though the details are too sketchy to know the exact nature of the deposit.

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Gruta da Casal Papagaio is a cave located approximately 10km north from Picareiro near Fátima. This site was excavated in the 1980s but only a preliminary report has ever been published (Arnaud and Bento 1988). Arnaud and Bento (1988) report two radiocarbon dates of 9,710bp and 9,650 bp on marine shells. The site contained the remains of two humans. Numerous shells, some perforated, including cockles, clams, mussels and even crab were excavated. Terrestrial fauna included red deer (antler), caprids, rabbits, rodents and fox. Though charcoal was recovered, no hearths or other features were found. No lithics or ceramics were encountered either. The cave lies 35-40 km inland from the Atlantic Ocean. During the period of use, the sea was about where it is today, possibly slightly further away.

Pena de Mira is a large rockshelter located on the south face of a scarp along the Polje of Minde (Figures 5.49, 5.50, 5.51, 5.52, 5.53). This large sinking basin lies only 2 km west of Picareiro. Most of the intact sediment was removed during the construction of a large cistern over a natural rainy season spring. A small section remains and was sampled by STEA for the Carta Arqueologica de Parque Natural das Serras d’Aire e Candeeiros in the late 1980s. A radiocarbon date of 8,500 was obtained on charcoal (Zilhão and Araújo 1991). The site contains bone fragments and marine shells but they are encased in a breccia of limestone éboulis.

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Figure 5.49: Pena de Mira rockshelter

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Figure 5.50: The Polje of Minde during winter Figure 5.51: same view in summer

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Figure 5.52: The Polje of Minda with the Serra d’Aire in the background (Picareiro is just left of center along the top of the mountain, Pena de Mira isalong the left margin of the water left of center) Figure 5.53: Pena de Mira in summer

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Lapa dos Coelhos Several Paleolithic sites are know along the limestone scarp known as the Arrife d’Aire. This lies against the southeast face of the Serra d’Aire on the opposite side from Picareiro. Where the source of the Almonda River flows out of the limestone, there are a series of caves dated to the Lower, Middle and Upper Paleolithic. One of these, Lapa dos Coelhos, has thick Magdalenian deposits that have recently been excavated by Francisco Almeida. The faunal assemblage has not been fully analyzed and published so only preliminary indications can be discussed. As implied by the name, this site was full of rabbit bones. Approximately 1,000 rabbit bones had been identified after the 2000 field season (Hockett and Haws 2002). No details on the assemblage composition have been published.

Buraca Grande & Buraca Escura Two Upper Paleolithic sites, Buraca Grande (Big Hole) and Buraca Escura (Dark Hole), are located along a tributary of the Mondego river in the limestone uplands of the northern part of Estremadura. Whether or not this are was part of the same exploitation territory as the people who used the caves 50 km to the south is a matter of debate. These caves were recently excavated and only preliminary reports have been published (Aubry et al. 1997; Aubry et al. 2001). Buraca Grande has occupations attributed to the Gravettian, ProtoSolutrean, Solutrean followed by a possible erosional event. Hints of a Magdalenian occupation were suggested by an accelerator date of 13,050 +/- 100 bp on a decorated bone (Aubry et al. 1997). Of interest is the microlithic level attributed to the early Mesolithic with three dates between 8,680 +/- 40 and 7,580 +/- 30 bp. Aubry et al. (1997) report the

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faunal assemblage is dominated by lagomorphs with some evidence of burning and anthropic fracturing. In addition, red deer and wild boar were identified. The bones have been analyzed by Jean-Philip Brugal but nothing has been published to date. Marine and estuarine shells were also found but no indication of a midden was reported. Buraca Grande lies about 40 km inland from the Atlantic, roughly the same distance as the shellbearing sites mentioned above. Although the species are of ornamental type, their presence suggests some movement between the coast and interior. Buraca Escura is located across the valley from Buraca Grande. This cave has Middle and Early Upper Paleolithic deposits but is noteworthy because of the near absence of lagomorphs. Wild boar is also absent and red deer is less abundant than ibex, horse and aurochs Aubry et al. (2001). As with later cave use in Portugal, large game counts are still quite low. The charcoal assemblage is dominated by pine (Pinus sylvestris), boxwood (Buxus sempervirens) and Leguminosae pointing to either a cooler climate or reflecting available vegetation on the north face of the Valle do Poio Novo. The absence of rabbit and wild boar is probably due to the unfavorable habitat near the cave during its occupation since these animals are known from Gravettian contexts to the south at Anecrial (Hockett and Haws 2002).

5.6 Discussion Comparisons between the archaeofaunas from the caves and rockshelters in Portugal permit a general understanding of the human use of these locations during the Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic. A number of questions arise including (1) what types of

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sites do these caves and rockshelters represent?; (2) Are they seasonal?; (3) Do they represent the overall subsistence economy of Late Upper Paleolithic people in Portugal?; (4) Is there evidence for resource depression and a subsequent widening of diet breadth?; (5) How does the Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic of central Portugal compare to Cantabria and Mediterranean Spain. There appear to be some important similarities between Picareiro, Suão and possibly Caldeirão with regard to the processing of rabbit. Whole carcasses were roasted and consumed. Marrow was systematically and regularly removed from the limbs. The macrofaunal assemblages differ quite strikingly at first glance. Almost nothing can be said of Suão regarding ungulate carcass use. Elements of red deer and wild boar were deposited in higher frequency than equids and caprids but the sample is extremely small. Both Picareiro and Caldeirão have macrofaunal assemblages dominated by red deer and wild boar during the Magdalenian. On the other hand, Suão and Caldeirão contain several carnivore species whereas Picareiro has almost none. Because of the different methods used, the only comparisons that can be made with Caldeirão are based on raw specimen counts, taxa present and biometrics. Archaeologists working in the Great Basin have devised a relative abundance index , also called the Artiodactyl Index (AI), to measure the proportion of large to small animals in a given site (Ugan and Bright 2001). This index is calculated by dividing the number of large animal specimens by the sum of large and small animal specimens. Using the commonly held assumption that large game outranks small game, Ugan and Bright (2001) used the AI as a measure of foraging efficiency. Stiner et al. (2000) also used this index to

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discern trends in the percentage of small game in Middle and Upper Paleolithic sites in the Mediterranean. Davis (2002) used a rabbit:ungulate ratio to show an increase in rabbits from the Mousterian to the Magdalenian at Caldeirão. The AI measures between the Picareiro, Suão and Caldeirão are given in Table 5.23. At first glance, it appears that the ungulate proportion at Caldeirão decreases through time from the Mousterian to the Magdalenian suggesting a decline in foraging efficiency. The AI values for Picareiro show almost the opposite trend for the Magdalenian sequence. Table  : Abundance Indices for sites in Portugal

Picareiro E upper E lower F G Suão

 Caldeirão

Magdalenian Magdalenian Magdalenian Magdalenian Magdalenian Magdalenian Magdalenian Solutrean EUP Mousterian

Ungulate NISP

Rabbit NISP

  

   



   


   
 


Abundance Index (AI) 
 
 
 
 
 

 



 
 


Picareiro has a higher number of identified large mammal specimens so the index is higher, though only slightly. Suão is similar to Picareiro. Davis (2002) noted an increase in the number of unidentified specimens to identified ones between the Mousterian and Magdalenian. This increase corresponds to the increase in the rabbit:ungulate ratio. Thus, the apparent decline in foraging efficiency seen by a reduction in the AI index through time is an illusion. The AI is simply tracking an increase in the degree of ungulate bone fragmentation through time. Higher ungulate bone

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fragmentation results in fewer identifiable pieces. On the other hand, rabbit bones are rarely fragmented beyond recognition during human butchery practices so their degree of fragmentation should remain constant through time. Dry bone breakage, trampling and marrow cracking can have a major affect on ungulate bone assemblages. Changes in exposure, site occupation time and time spent processing carcasses can result in different degrees of fragmentation through time. Measures based on numbers of identified specimens are therefore unreliable in calculating abundance. Table 5.24 shows the total number of ungulate and rabbit bone specimens for Picareiro, Suão and Caldeirão. Table  : Comparison of macrofaunal and rabbit NISP from Magdalenian sites in central Portugal

indeterminate ungulate specimens Ungulate NISP Rabbit NISP

Picareiro 

Suão 

Caldeirão


  

 

  



different counting method used

Total ungulate NISP:MNE ratios can be calculated to measure the degree of bone fragmentation at Picareiro and Suão. However, estimating bone fragmentation using NISP:MNE for Caldeirão is impossible because bones were not counted in the same manner. The number of identifiable specimens is unknown and therefore no reliable MNE estimation can be made. Picareiro F Suão (  )

total ungulate NISP:MNE  

The difference between these two sites and Caldeirão in Table 5.24 is readily apparent.

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Caldeirão has more large animal specimens and roughly equal or slightly fewer rabbits in the Magdalenian levels. Does this mean that there were greater numbers of ungulates brought to Caldeirão? Assuming a similar degree of fragmentation it would appear that Caldeirão actually contained a greater percentage of ungulates than Picareiro. Given the high NISP:MNE ratio at Suão and Picareiro it is unlikely that the Magdalenian assemblage from Caldeirão could be significantly more fragmented. Is the higher percentage of ungulates in the Magdalenian at Caldeirão due to significant differences in site function? Caldeirão is located further inland than Picareiro but at much lower elevation and closer to the preferred habitat of many game animals. Therefore it should be expected to have more taxa and more animals represented. Each site appears to have been utilized as a temporary carcass processing site. Large game were intensively processed for meat and marrow and much of it seems to have been consumed onsite at Picareiro and Caldeirão. At Suão the ungulates were mostly transported away. On the other hand, all three sites were rabbit carcass processing stations. Large numbers of rabbits were butched and consumed. There is evidence that many more were transported away from Picareiro and Suão. The rabbits from Caldeirão have not yet been published so no definitive conclusions can be made.

5.7 The broader regional context Comparing these sites with the other poorly known caves and rockshelters in Estremadura a number of observations can be made. First, it would appear that caves and rockshelters, while providing most if not all of the direct evidence for Late Upper Paleolithic

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subsistence, do not contain the same quantities of large animal bones as they do in other regions of Europe, especially Cantabrian Spain and Southwest France. This does not mean that environments were poorer. Large gregarious herds of reindeer, bison and horses simply did not exist south of the Pyrenees. The animals hunted south of the Ebro River had different biogeographic and ecological characteristics. Large animals were rare and medium ungulates were solitary or found in small groups. In contrast, small game was much more abundant, probably due to the milder climatic conditions of near-coastal Iberia. Coastal and plant resources were probably more plentiful as well. The opportunity for high numbers of large mammal bones to accumulate from processing of mass-kills would not have existed. Instead most of the locations were used for intensive rabbit carcass processing with occupations lasting long enough to result in the deposition of small but highly fragmented large mammal assemblages. These sites do not seem to be long-term residences. Recent syntheses of the archaeological record from the Mediterranean regions of Spain by Aura et al. (1998) and Villaverde et al. (1998) suggest a similar human land-use and subsistence pattern to the one in Portugal. As noted in previous chapters, both regions share a similar climate and environment. Both regions are characterized by intensive rabbit exploitation during the Upper Paleolithic. Cultural connections between the two can be seen from at least the Solutrean through formal similarities in projectile points. In Portugal, Parpalló points were found at Caldeirão, Salemas and Passal (Zilhão 1997). The ‘Solutreo-Gravettian’ of Mediterranean Spain may exist in Estremadura as well (Zilhão 1997).

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Aura Tortosa and Pérez-Ripoll (1995) show that rabbit often comprises over 90% of faunal assemblages in Mediterranean Spain during the Upper Magdalenian (MSMMagdalenian Superior Mediterráneo 13,000-11,000 bp). Table 5.25 shows rabbit NISP is 23,850 from sites in the region while larger fauna (primarily red deer and ibex) number approximately 10,000. Most of the rabbit comes from Cova Matutano dated approximately between 13,960-11,410 bp and Cova de les Cendres levels IX-X dated 12-16,000 bp (Olària 1999; Villaverde et al. 1999). Over half of the Matutano sample comes from Matutano I (the upper levels) dated 11,410-12,500 bp. Olària reports large hearths in this level which resemble those from Picareiro F and G. The limb fragmentation is described, “the tibia is broken in the first moment by the distal shaft, removing the feet whole and without disarticulating them. In the second phase, this bone is distarticulated from the femur and broken by the part with the most thin walls, removing the proximal epiphysis” (Estévez in Olària et al. 1985: 87). This suggests the systematic creation of rabbit bone cylinders to access the marrow as documented in the Portuguese sites. Large game bones are also highest in this level and the percent identified is only slightly higher than Picareiro suggesting a high degree of fragmentation here as well. In Matutano IV, dated 13,37013,960 bp, another spike in rabbit occurs where smaller, “pseudocircular” hearths were found (Olària 1999: 423, Table 2). This situation is similar to Level J in Picareiro where a small oval hearth yielded a large concentration of rabbit bones. This level is undated and its interpretation often changes as a result (Hockett and Haws 2002; Bicho et al. 2002; Bicho pers. com.). Overall at Matutano, the majority of red deer skeletal parts represented are phalanges, carpals and isolated teeth. Limbs are greatly underrepresented and it is likely

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Table 5.25: Rabbit vs. large game NISP in Mediterranean Spain Magdaleniense Superior Rabbit NISP Large game NISP Mediterraneo (13-11k bp) Cova de les Cendres 5139 1166 Parpalló 55 3007 Tossal de la Roca 1561 364 Nerja 1936 2613 Cova Matutano 13738 944 Cova dels Blaus 739 78 Chaves 682 1751 Total 23850 9923 Epipaleolitico Microlaminar Mediterraneo (11-9k bp) Cingle Vermell Santa Maira Picamoixons Cova dels Blaus Nerja Les Malladetes Tossal de la Roca Total

3814 1186 346 1601 2425 28 1462 10862

153 737 21 268 1025 66 545 2815

Epipaleolitico Geometrico Mediterraneo (9-7.5k bp) Tossal de la Roca Santa Maira Cueva de la Cocina Cova Fosca Total

111 35 93 1066 1305

630 67 661 157 1515

Total 36017 14253 Data from Vila et al. (1985), Aura & Pérez Ripoll (1995), Villaverde & Martinez Valle (1995), Olaria (1999), Aura et al (2002), Castaños (1993), Davidson (1989), Verges Bosch (1996)

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that the unidentifiable remains are mostly limb shafts. The published drawings of fracture patterns show few epiphyses with attached shafts and only a few shafts identified to element. In Matutano as well, phalanges were split open to extract marrow. Estévez shows limb representation rises dramatically when the shaft fragments of the unidentifiable portion are considered (Estévez in Olària et al. 1985: 91). Additional sites in the SMR exhibiting a similar usage include Tossal de la Roca and Cova de les Cendres. Both sites are numerically dominated by rabbit with moderate large game NISP. In their analyses, Aura and Pérez Ripoll (1995a, 1995b) show a high degree of ungulate limb bone fragmentation at Tossal de la Roca. Limb elements are mainly represented by shaft fragments. In Nerja and Santa Maira, ibex limb epiphyses are nearly absent and the overwhelmingly majority of specimens are midshafts. At Tossal de la Roca, midshafts comprise about 70% of the ibex limb portions in the Magdalenian levels in the interior of the shelter. Shafts decrease significantly in the Epipaleolithic levels of the exterior excavation where distal fragments approach 50% of the element portion. Levels IIa, I and Sup. from the exterior of the shelter generally do not have a high degree of fragmentation. The authors attribute this difference to physical factors affecting the bones and a smaller excavated area. Nevertheless, there may be significant differences between the two periods. Since limb elements have different bone densities the variability may be due to differences in the representation of certain elements. For instance, in the grouped distribution graphs, the Magdalenian levels have a predominance of similar hindlimb portions, which appears to be femur and tibia shafts (Aura and Pérez Ripoll 1995: Figure 5). In the exterior area, the dominate portion appears to be the distal tibia. It

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could be argued that the distal tibia should be present equally in the interior relative to midshafts. Unfortunately, the percentages of each limb portion are based on NISP instead of MNE. A higher degree of limb fragmentation in the interior would create greater numbers of midshaft fragments thus lowering the percentage of distal ends. If MNE was considered then those effects would disappear and the true pattern would emerge. Nevertheless, they attribute the absence of limb epiphyses to grease processing, not to carnivore chewing or density-mediated attrition due to in situ weathering. The practice of using NISP in skeletal element analyses is the norm in Spanish zooarchaeology and it makes comparison difficult. As Straus (1987) notes for faunal reports from the Cantabrian region, None of the lists separate long bones among proximal, mesial, or distal elements or give any fragmentation information. It is not reasonable to attempt to extrapolate minimum numbers of individuals per anatomical element, given the absence of this information. For these reasons, full intersite comparisons can be made only at the level of major anatomical units: head (horn, cranium, jaws and teeth), thorax (vertebrae, ribs, and sternum), forelimb (scapula, humerus, radius and ulna), hind limb (pelvis, femur, patella, tibia and fibula), and extremities (carpals, metacarpals, tarsals, metatarsals, phalanges, and sesamoids) (p. 168).

The interpretations of element representation based on NISP per element are not as suitable as those based on MNE for explaining ungulate carcass butchery and transport patterns. Each specimen is treated as a whole element so that highly fragmented ones, typically the marrow-filled limb bones, are almost certain to be over-represented. On the other hand, many studies do not systematically attempt to identify limb shaft portions, thus limbs will more than likely be under-represented if density-mediated attrition due to chemical weathering or carnivore activity has impacted the assemblage or if the assemblage

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reflects human marrow and grease processing. Since these factors are often not adequately accounted for, many potentially unwarranted conclusions can be made. For example, Castaños (1993) in his report on the Magdalenian fauna from Chaves writes, The elevated degree of fragmentation of the Aragonese sample produces an over-representation of cephalic elements by a large quantity of isolated dental pieces that consequently reduces the relative importance of the long bones represented in good portion by indeterminable diaphysis fragments. Nevertheless, this circumstance does not totally explain the limited proportion of ribs and vertebrae, more in the case of the latter, which presents an elevated degree of conservability in the face of diagenetic factors. But it is necessary well to suppose that it is an indication of the little frequency whereupon that part of the animal was transported (Castaños 1993: 16; my translation).

Depending on the method used, this case could be interpreted in many ways. The frequencies given are percentages of the total NISP. Phalanges and femora are treated as equal despite the fact that there are 12 times as many phalanges in the ibex skeleton. However, the admission that indeterminate limb shaft fragments are well-represented suggests that ibex were intensively processed for marrow and grease onsite. The rabbit representation at Chaves shows similarities with Picareiro and Suão. The most common element is the innominate followed by the tibia, mandible, and slightly lower frequencies of the forelimbs and femur. Ribs and vertebrae are extremely under-represented. Unfortunately, the majority of the rabbit assemblage was analyzed by another researcher and the results have yet to be published. Utrilla (1995) reported a preliminary MNI estimate of 116 rabbits in one level based on innominate frequencies. The estimation of relative abundance of each species is commonly used to make statements about their dietary importance. Davidson (1976, 1989) has investigated the

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importance of rabbit, red deer and ibex by considering meat weight as discussed previously. He admits that his main motivation in 1976 was to prove the low significance of the abundant rabbit remains in Spanish caves (Davidson 1989). Other zooarchaeologists working in Spain have followed his lead but usually make general statements about the relative abundance of species based on Davidson’s conclusions. Some have even used bone weight percentages as a measure of relative abundance (Estévez in Olaria et al. 1985). A consensus has been reached among scholars that rabbit, while numerically dominant, was simply too small to have made a significant contribution to the diet. Calculations of the amount of rabbit meat necessary to equal a single ibex range from 55 to 100 and 88 to 150 for red deer (Davidson 1976, 1989; Villaverde and Martinez Valle 1995). Thus, at Volcán de Faro where 3,540 rabbit remains were recovered making up 90% of the total assemblage Davidson (1989) estimated that they only made up 7% of the procured meat. This reasoning is deeply flawed because Davidson used NISP counts to calculate the amount of meat. As in all other Spanish cases, each specimen was treated as representing a whole carcass. Thus, 232 red deer bone specimens were treated as 232 red deer, providing over 15,000 kg of meat to the cave occupants (Davidson 1989: Table 8.18). Body part tables show that most of these identified specimens are phalanges, metapodial fragments and isolated teeth (Davidson 1989: Table 8.10). Femurs were represented by two fragments of the proximal shaft with the articulation visible. Tibiae by 7 fragments, all either proximal or distal ends showing the articulation. The forelimb is represented by a proximal scapula fragment, one proximal and three distal epiphysis fragments (one intact enough to allow measurement) and one proximal and two distal radius fragments. There is no description

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of the rabbit material as it was deemed too insignificant in the face of overwhelming numbers of red deer. Even if one were to liberally assume each red deer fragment represented a whole element, at most it could be argued that four animals were evident. Therefore, only about 265 kg of meat may be represented. Rabbits certainly did not provide 2,655 kg of meat but may have been relatively more important. If the 3,540 remains came from 100 animals, a reasonable estimate based on NISP/MNI at Picareiro and Suão, then rabbit may have comprised 25% or more of the meat. This would make rabbit a far more important resource than many would admit. It would also suggest a great similarity between the use of Picareiro and Volcán. Because NISP is the basis of counting in Spanish zooarchaeology, meat weight estimates used to calculate the relative dietary contribution of rabbit will always greatly exaggerate the ungulate proportion. Since all medium ungulates appear to be highly and equally fragmented it may be reasonable to use NISPbased calculations between ungulate taxa but not between large and small game. In spite of the lack of detailed data on skeletal element representation in the Spanish sites, there are visible trends in the NISP data that suggest important diachronic shifts in subsistence in both Mediterranean Spain and Portugal. During the Microlaminar Epipaleolithic (EMM- Epipaleolítico Microlaminar Mediterráneo 11,000-9,000 bp) of the SMR the cumulative rabbit NISP falls by more than half to 10,862 while red deer rises to 2,381 and ibex to 1,430 (Table 5.26). Wild boar and chamois increase as well. The Mediterranean Geometric Epipaleolithic (EGM- Epipaleolítico Geométrico Mediterráneo) dated 9,000-7,500 has a further drop in rabbit NISP to 1,327. However, while red deer drops to 379, ibex stays relatively the same at 1,057, suggesting some degree of ibex

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specialization at sites such as Tossal de la Roca and Cueva de la Cocina. At Tossal de la Roca, rabbit exploitation had been stable during the MSM and EMM, but falls dramatically during the EGM while ibex remained stable throughout the occupation. Table  : Summary of NISP of fauna from sites in Mediterranean Spain (adapted from Aura Tortosa & Pérez Ripoll ) MSM EMM EGM Equus sp Bos sp Cervus elaphus Capra pyrenaica Rupicapra Capreolus Sus scrofa

  ()  ()  

   () 
() 




  (
) 
 ( )  

At Picareiro, the greatest concentration of rabbit bones is in Levels F & G, dated 12,30011,700. Rabbit NISP is one third that in all of the Spanish sites for the same time span. Combined with Suão and Caldeirão, these three sites contain about half the amount of rabbit from all of the Spanish sites in Table 5.25. Additionally, the number of rabbit remains drops in Picareiro Level E coincident with the decrease in Mediterranean Spain. At first glance the decrease in lagomorph remains in Spanish sites appears to coincide with a greater emphasis on red deer and ibex during the EMM and ibex later in the EGM. Table 5.26, adapted from Aura and Pérez Ripoll shows the trend in NISP for large taxa in the SMR from the MSM to the EGM. It appears there is a significant overall shift from red deer focus to an ibex dominated pattern by the EGM. However, altitudinal and topographic characteristics determine whether red deer or ibex dominates ungulate assemblages. All of the EGM sites in their table are located in or near prime ibex habitat and are dominated by ibex throughout the entire sequence (e.g., Tossal, Cocina, Nerja & Santa Maira). The disappearance of red deer is due to the absence of occupations from sites on or near the

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coastal plain where red deer were exploited during the Magdalenian (e.g., Cova de les Cendres, Matutano, Volcán & Blaus). So why are there no Geometric Epipaleolithic data from the coastal plain? The occurrence of marine resources inland and an apparent mutually exclusive seasonal exploitation of red deer and ibex suggests a coastal-inland transhumance during the Late Pleistocene as hypothesized for central Portugal. The absence of red deer could be due to forest expansion on the coastal plain forcing people to stay on the coast. However, wild boar, roe deer and chamois, typically argued as evidence for warm, humid Mediterranean forests, decline as well. On the other hand, the decrease in rabbit appears real since they are ubiquitous and equally abundant in sites dominated by red deer or ibex. The unique situation of Nerja, near ibex habitat and the Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene shoreline shows that marine resources were important throughout the Magdalenian and Epipaleolithic sequence. Aura et al. (1998) note that fish are five times more abundant than rabbit at Nerja during the Magdalenian (MSM) and ten times as much during the Epipaleolithic (EMM). A couple of known Geometric Epipaleolithic sites, now destroyed, were located on the margins of small ponds or coastal lagoons (Martinez Andreu 2001). It is most likely the EGM settlement was nearer the coast which was still slightly further out from the present shore. Thus, all of the coastal sites from this period and earlier are now submerged. A similar pattern emerges during the Epipaleolithic in Portugal where small shellmiddens (Toledo, Magoito, São Julião, and Cabeço do Curral Velho) appear on the margins of coastal lagoons. What are the reasons for the similarities and differences between central Portugal and Mediterranean Spain? Rabbit exploitation is almost certainly due to its availability

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and high productivity although foraging theorists would argue that post-encounter return rates determine whether or not a resource is exploited (e.g., Stiner et al. 2000). Red deer are found in small groups and individually for most of the year. Only in the reproductive season (autumn) do larger groups (male harems) form. Thus red deer was probably taken through opportunistic encounter hunting for most of the year. Rabbits living in densely packed warrens were easily “gathered” through setting numerous traps and snares within their territory and along regular paths (Hockett and Bicho 2000; Hockett and Haws 2002). Rabbits offered a comparable or better yield of fat and protein from equal amounts of red deer (Hockett and Bicho 2000)(see also Table 4.9). Why then does rabbit appear to be more important in Portugal? Were large game resources depressed from excessive hunting by ever-increasing hunter-gatherer populations? As shown above red deer size in Portugal did not decrease during the Late Pleistocene (Davis 2002). They were at least as large on average as those from Mediterranean Spain (both smaller than Cantabrian red deer). One possibility appears to be the lack of ibex in Portuguese Tardiglacial sites as opposed to Mediterranean Spain. Current data are probably not sufficient to test this proposition because of the greater number of sites in eastern Spain as opposed to central Portugal. The reliance on ibex in Mediterranean Spain is probably due to the fact many sites are located in ecotones between higher elevations and coastal lowlands. The absence of ibex in the known Portuguese sites is best explained by the lack of nearby peaks greater than 1,000m. Ibex may not have been very abundant in Late Pleistocene central Portugal due to the lack of its prime habitat.

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Is the decrease in rabbits in central Portugal after 11,000 bp a localized phenomenon at Picareiro? The other sites in the area with Epipaleolithic occupations such as Bocas, Papagaio and Pena de Mira have not been analyzed which makes this hypothesis difficult to test. In fact the collections are too poor to use with confidence. Could the rabbit decline at Picareiro be due to poor preservation in Levels D and E? This is quite possible given the low frequency of all taxa. Are there changes in species selection by hunter-gatherers? Is reduced availability through overharvesting or the level of productivity responsible for the rabbit decline? Paleoenvironmental changes associated with the Younger Dryas are difficult to detect in Portugal due the lack of long pollen records and high-resolution micro and macrofaunal data. If the Younger Dryas impacted Portugal by increased aridity and cooler temperatures as in northeastern Spain, then preferred rabbit habitat may have been reduced enough to affect rabbit populations (Hockett and Haws 2002). Many of the Spanish Mediterranean and Portuguese sites are impacted by erosional events or “ruptures” in the sequence during the Pleistocene-Holocene transition (Villaverde Bonilla and Aura Tortosa 1995; Zilhão 1993). At Tossal de la Roca the interior sequence ceased and occupation shifted to the exterior of the shelter. In sites where rabbit NISP drops, medium ungulate NISP remains abundant. Does this imply an increase in overall foraging efficiency? The paucity of sites per millennium might suggest a drop in regional populations thus relaxing the need for intensive exploitation of “low-ranked” small game. On the other hand, the first archaeological indications of plant exploitation and significant marine resource use occurs during this same period. Did the collapse in rabbit populations force huntergatherers into a further broadening of diet to include even lower-ranked plants and

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shellfish? While early postglacial red deer size appears smaller on average in Cantabria, this diminution has been argued as climate-induced (Mariezkurrena and Altuna 1983). Weinstock (1997) has also noted similar climate-induced reductions in body size for reindeer in northern Europe. The Portuguese data are insufficient to construct and compare age profiles to test the hypothesis put forth by Broughton and O’Connell (1999) so the Spanish data are used here. Age profiles for red deer and ibex in Mediterranean Spain show continuity in hunting patterns throughout the Paleolithic sequence (Aura et al. 2002). The differences occur between interior and coastal sites and are likely related to seasonal hunting strategies and not changes in overall foraging efficiency. This points to the risk involved in using faunal remains from a few sites to measure foraging efficiency. Differences in site use and seasonality can lead to erroneous conclusions unless they are accounted for, which they are commonly not. Furthermore, as discussed above and in earlier chapters, the intensive use of rabbits extends back to the earliest Upper Paleolithic. Marine resources are difficult to address due to coastline changes. Plants were available in fluctuating proportions throughout the Late Pleistocene but their use is also difficult to evaluate because of the nature of cave and rockshelter use during this period. Their sporadic occurrence from the Middle Paleolithic onwards suggests a regional pattern for overall dietary diversity. There does not appear to be a diachronic trend towards greater dietary diversity or intensified resource use. Diets were always diverse and carcasses were often intensively processed throughout the Upper Paleolithic in Mediterranean Spain and Portugal.

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Chapter 6: Towards an understanding of Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene subsistence and settlement in central Portugal

What can be said of Late Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic subsistence in central Portugal? If caves and rockshelters and a few small coastal shellmiddens were occupied for relatively brief periods to process animals, can they be considered representative of the whole? In most regions, archaeologists consider large and medium ungulates the basis of subsistence economies because they provide tremendous amounts of energy (kcal) per unit weight (kg). Small game, fish, shellfish and plants are considered back-up resources or insurance policies against the risks of stress or failure. According to the Broad Spectrum Revolution model, evidence of their consumption signals subsistence stress due to population-resource imbalance. Ultimately, these notions are derived from the focus on the capture of energy from the environment. The Broad Spectrum Revolution is a manifestation of the principles underlying optimal foraging theory intended to explain the apparent global trend in subsistence change toward greater dietary diversity and resource intensification at the end of the Pleistocene. In environments where resources are rare or dispersed, animals, and presumably humans, will be generalized feeders occupying a broad dietary niche. In resource-dense zones or patchy areas animals and/or humans may be specialized. The Late Pleistocene of central and northern Europe may have been a resource-dense region where large gregarious ungulates could be hunted by highly specialized human groups. However, this may only have been a strictly seasonal specialization. Forest expansion and faunal

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turnover to smaller and less dense game at the Pleistocene/Holocene transition forced people to become more generalized, broadening their diet to maintain energy capture. On the other hand, increasing population may have played a role in forcing this shift prior to climate change. In either case, a neat explanation is offered for changes in Late Pleistocene/ Early Holocene subsistence, and subsequently, settlement patterns. However, recent ethnoarchaeological studies show that resource rank does not always correlate with dietary contribution, that men have non-subsistence motivations for large game hunting, and that overall daily subsistence is often based on the collection of “lowerranked” resources by women supplemented by meat (Hawkes et al. 1991, 1997, 2001; Kaplan and Hill 1992). Furthermore, human nutritional requirements make it extremely difficult to subsist largely on animals. In regions were animals and plants are available, humans choose a balance between the two. The broad spectrum diet of Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene and later hunter-gatherers in temperate latitudes is reflective of the overall hominid diet that evolved in the last few million years. Current archaeological evidence shows that the exploitation of plants and small aquatic and terrestrial animals predates the Pleistocene-Holocene transition in regions where they were available (Kislev et al. 1992; Mason et al. 1994; Richards et al. 2000; Erlandson 2001; Stiner 2001). Any meat-only diets that may have characterized these latitudes during the Pleistocene are probably highly specialized adaptations that occurred in times and places of severe climatic conditions resembling the present-day Arctic and Subarctic. In regions of milder climate this paradigm should not be considered relevant. In the Mediterranean region of southern Europe generalized dietary diversity appears

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to predate evidence for population increases (seen by numbers of sites per millennium), although this is debatable (Stiner et al. 2000; Kuhn and Stiner 2001, 2002; Villaverde et al. 1997; Speth and Tchernov 2002; Hockett and Haws 2002). This is especially the case on the coastal fringe of the Iberian Peninsula excluding northern Spain and possibly Catalunya. Beyond the Ebro River the archaeological record from the Middle Paleolithic onward is characterized by the presence of large and medium ungulates, especially red deer and ibex, but with substantial amounts of small game, mostly rabbit, aquatic resources and plant remains. The same level of intensity in rabbit processing observed in Magdalenian sites can be seen in assemblages as early as the Aurignacian at Cova Beneito in Mediterranean Spain and the Gravettian at Anecrial in central Portugal (Aura et al. 2002; Hockett and Haws 2002). The Middle Paleolithic record of rabbit use is much less definitive. These assemblages do not mirror patterns observed in those resulting from carnivores and raptors nor do they resemble human-created ones. Neanderthals may have no behavioral analog in modern humans. Recently, Hockett and Haws (2002) reviewed current models explaining rabbit exploitation in the western Mediterranean. In the first one, Villaverde et al. (1997) argued that increased rabbit hunting in the Upper Paleolithic indicates a reduction in mobility. Because rabbits are a dense territorial resource Early Upper Paleolithic people became tethered to them. This was further supported by the nature of medium ungulate prey behavioral ecology. Rabbits were a ubiquitous resource that served as an insurance policy while small foraging groups moved seasonally between the coastal plain where they targeted red deer and the interior where they hunted ibex.

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In the second model, Stiner et al. (2000) proposed an alternative for overall small game exploitation based on population pressure on resources (see chapter 2). According to their model the increased role of lagomorphs signals depression of higher-ranked resources due to over-harvesting. Therefore, the intensive utilization of rabbits in the Upper Paleolithic of Iberia would suggest an earlier occurrence of the Broad Spectrum Revolution, as modified to acknowledge aquatic resource use prior to the PleistoceneHolocene transition (Stiner 2001; Stiner and Kuhn 2001, 2002). The Stiner et al. (2000) model primarily focuses on hares rather than rabbits. As discussed earlier, hares differ from rabbits in many important ways. Hares are solitary, live in nests on the ground and though capable of rapid bursts of speed to escape predation will freeze in place as an initial defensive posture. Keen hunters may be able to stalk, approach and dispatch hares from a relatively short distance. Alternatively, drives could be used in certain cases. Rabbits on the other hand are easily gathered in large quantities through methods requiring little effort. Despite their overall speed, they may not fall into a general “quick-moving” category put forth by Stiner et al. (2000). An alternative model for rabbit hunting and overall small game exploitation was developed by Hockett and Haws (2002). This model invokes prey behavior and climate to explain the temporal trends in rabbit hunting in the western Mediterranean. Rabbits are an attractive resource for humans not just because they are ubiquitous and abundant but because they are relatively easy to procure in large numbers. In other words, rabbits may have a much higher return rate than simple meat-weight and caloric energy models suggest. In addition, as Hockett and Bicho (2000) noted, rabbits offer a better nutritional package

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of protein and fat than deer, despite the low-fat, ‘rabbit starvation’ claims for other regions (e.g., Harris 1987; Speth and Spielmann 1983). The models adopted by archaeologists working in Iberia all focus on medium and large ungulates as the basis of subsistence with settlements arranged in order to procure these resources. The data may not be sufficient at the present to test the idea that ungulate exploitation was highly specialized in central Portugal as it may have been in Mediterranean Spain. Larger assemblages in that region have allowed the construction of mortality profiles that show the regular hunting of animals ~3 years old (Aura et al. 2002). This pattern varies between the coast and interior and probably has more to do with seasonal differences in herd structure than dietary focus. The assemblages from the Portuguese sites are not large enough to construct useful mortality profiles. Coastal Magdalenian sites are unknown and the few dated to the Early Holocene are shellmiddens whose terrestrial game component was either non-existent or has not been studied. Analyses of Picareiro and Suão show differences in large game utilization. At Picareiro, medium ungulate carcasses were brought to the cave and intensively processed for maximum nutritional yield. Suão was used for this purpose to a much less degree. If large game was processed in the site, very little was consumed onsite. In both sites, rabbits were procured and processed in large numbers throughout the Late Pleistocene sequence. If medium ungulates were heavily exploited the impact was probably not severe enough to “depress” populations. In Spain, where red deer specialization is said to occur as well, the mortality data show no significant changes through time. The biometric data from Picareiro and Caldeirão show no size diminution in red deer, arguably the most

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exploited ungulate. This does not agree with the prediction of the diet breadth model that low-ranked resources will not be added to the diet until higher-ranked resources offer diminished returns to the point at which it becomes profitable to add new items. The only way to satisfy the model is to suggest that rabbits were not in fact low-ranked resources despite the discrepancies in meat weight and caloric value. This explanation implies that the commonly held view that large game outrank small game is seriously flawed. Given that the interior caves and rockshelters do not represent all types of settlement what reason is there to assume that the faunal remains found in them represent the full repertoire of diet and subsistence? Comparative studies of these sites in Portugal and Mediterranean Spain suggest they are primarily specialized carcass processing locations rather than residential camps. Milder climate probably meant that much of the terrestrial game processing and consumption took place in open air sites where organic preservation is extremely poor due to the acidic soil conditions. Plant and aquatic resource utilization was likely much higher despite their low frequency in caves and rockshelters.

Plant

gathering and fishing took place in areas where they were locally abundant. The same can be said for terrestrial game exploitation. The name of the village nearest Picareiro is Covão de Coelho, meaning ‘rabbit cave.’ This would suggest that rabbits have been very abundant for a long, long time in the area. The present landscape near Picareiro and Suão has been altered by thousands of years of human forest clearance, agriculture, silviculture and domestic animal grazing. The limestone uplands probably had more extensive deciduous and evergreen Mediterranean forests than the maquis or garrigue that characterizes the natural vegetation today. We

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can only speculate on past plant availability. The potential for plant resource use discussed in chapter 4, while speculative, should not be dismissed simply because plant remains are absent in specialized animal processing sites. How significant were marine resources to the Late Pleistocene/Early Holocene diet in central Portugal? The archaeological evidence from this period shows that people not only utilized coastal resources near the shore but transported them considerable distances inland. Were people moving residence seasonally to the coast to exploit marine resources, or were they making special trips to the coast to collect food and other resources to bring back to interior residences? Ethnographic observations of groups in central California record both patterns. The Coast Yuki moved residence seasonally within a 25 mile area between the coast and inland coastal range (Gifford 1939). On the other hand, the Yokuts were observed to travel at least 50 miles to collect molluscs for transport inland (Pilling, 1950). Long distance transport of shells inland has also been observed in New Zealand (Coutts and Higham, 1971), Tasmania (Coon 1971) and Tierra del Fuego (Massone 1987). In the Santa Lucia Mountains of central California, substantial prehistoric shellmiddens comprised of marine mussels are found 25-30 km inland (Jones and Richman 1995). In Peru, early Holocene hunter-gatherers transported shellfish 100 km inland (Engel 1973). Foraging models suggest that fulfillment of energy needs may not have been the motivation for long-distance shellfish transport (Jones and Richman 1995). For the past several decades, archaeologists have been divided on the nature and timing of coastal adaptations. Coastal adaptations were argued to have appeared as a result of population growth and the stabilization of sea levels in the early Holocene (Binford

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1968; Cohen 1977; Osborn 1977; Yesner 1980, 1987). The reasons given to explain why coasts were not exploited appreciably during the Pleistocene are: 1) human populations did not reach the point necessary to broaden the diet to include low-ranked shellfish and marine mammals, 2) sea levels were fluctuating enough to preclude the formation of rich productive estuaries 3) that overall ocean productivity was lower because of lower global CO2, and 4) continental shelves were exposed which left very deep unproductive water off the coast (Bailey and Parkington 1988).

Erlandson (2001), in a thorough review of the worldwide evidence for coastal resource use, shows quite demonstrably that coastal adaptation has a long history albeit in restricted areas. The primary reason for the lack of coastal sites is the fact that sea level has inundated or destroyed most Pleistocene coastal sites. The sole factor in the presence of coastal sites from this period is that areas of steep bathymetry enabled site visibility (Erlandson 2001). In these areas, the distance from the present shoreline to the glacial one is only a few kilometers because of the narrow continental shelf. Additionally, sites located above the Last Interglacial shore could be preserved because sea level has not reached that height and inundated them. This explains why coastal resources are common in Upper Paleolithic sites in Cantabria and OIS 5e sites are preserved in North Africa. Since evidence for coastal exploitation exists in areas where it could be preserved, why assume the lack of evidence in other coastal areas means that it never existed in the first place? Despite the seemingly obvious fact that Pleistocene coastal sites are underwater many refuse to acknowledge that Paleolithic people utilized the coast very extensively because they view marine resources as inferior to terrestrial ones (Osborn 1977; Yesner 1980, 1987;

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Bailey 1978). This stems from the use of energy-based economic models like site catchment analysis and optimal foraging theory. The most extreme view was promoted by Osborn (1977) and Bailey (1978). Both considered the protein and energy value of shellfish inadequate to meet human dietary needs. Hence, Bailey estimated that 150,000 cockles would be needed to equal a single red deer. Therefore, shellfish could only serve as a marginal or starvation resource in stressful times. Akazawa (1988) raised important points in relation to dietary (caloric) contribution and relative importance of shellfish. Using seasonality considerations made by Koike, he reconsidered the data from Isarago in Japan. In a previous study of the shellmidden, Suzuki estimated the dietary contribution of shellfish based on calculation of the volume of shells in the midden and the weight of the animals. Assuming a year round occupation for 25 years by 30 people, the inhabitants would have consumed 19g of protein and 134 kcal/day from shellfish. This suggests that shellfish were of minor importance to the diet despite their numerical dominance. Akazawa argued that if the site was only occupied for three months, then 48g of protein and 265 kcal/day were obtained from shellfish. Thus, during certain times of the year, especially early spring and summer in this case, shellfish were of considerable importance given the large quantities collected in a short period. A similar conclusion was reached by Meehan (1982) in her ethnographic study of the Gidjingali of Australia. For them, shellfish are a critical resource during the summer wet season. Though shellfish were not a critical source of energy, only amounting to 6-17% of calories during the year, the Anbarra community gathered shellfish as often or more than

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any other food. More significant than the caloric yield was perhaps the ease in collecting with minimal processing that allowed women and children to provide a stable, reliable resource. As with many modern hunter-gatherers, the Anbarra purchase about half of their food, mainly flour, sugar and rice. This apparently has not affected the amount of animal flesh consumed but has taken the place of tubers, nuts and fruits in the overall diet (Meehan 1982). Erlandson (1988) has shown that many shellfish are not poor protein sources (see Table 4.14). Regardless of the amount, the protein quality of shellfish is the highest of any source for humans (Wing and Brown 1979). The protein proportions in shellfish are best suited for human metabolism. Furthermore, given the risks involved in a high protein diet, it would seem unrealistic to rank food items according to the amount of protein. Generally, the occurrence of marine fish and shellfish in coastal middens and caves/ rockshelters in the interior is thought to represent the initial use of these resources by human groups under stress from population/resource imbalance. Indeed, energy-based foraging models assume these resources rank lower than terrestrial ones and would therefore only be used when higher ranked resources were depressed. Many studies over the last decades have concluded that shellfish could never have been very important dietary components due to the low meat weight relative to larger terrestrial game (Osborn 1977; Bailey 1978; Yesner 1980, 1987; Perlman 1980). Again, Bailey’s (1978) assertion that over 150,000 cockles would be needed to equal the meat weight of a single red deer illustrates this line of thought. Subsequent researchers have concluded the same, except Erlandson (2001). Shellfish therefore, are thought to represent a post-Pleistocene adaptation in the

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face of ever-increasing demographic pressures, whether it is population growth or “packing.” This would apply to ocean fish and marine mammals since their appearance would be seen as further evidence of increased diversity. An alternative explanation put forth by others is that coastal resource availability was low throughout the glacial period because continental shelves were too steep to permit productive fisheries and the broad estuaries and lagoons necessary to support large colonies of shellfish (Schubel and Hirschberg 1978). Only after sea level rose in the Late Pleistocene culminating with the Atlantic transgression were these marine conditions met. Therefore, the addition of marine foods is due to superabundance. This, of course, would only fit the foraging theory models if these resources were ranked higher than the ones already included in the diet. If they do not rank higher then population pressure again would be used to explain their inclusion. However, the evidence suggests shellfish have long been a food source for humans, even during the Last Glacial Maximum in Cantabria (Clark 1983; Clark and Straus 1986; Erlandson 2001). The main obstacles in recognizing that coastal exploitation was not merely a localized and rare phenomenon during the Pleistocene are twofold. The first is the submergence of the Pleistocene shoreline at the end of the Last Glacial. We simply lack a substantial amount of prehistoric human territory. There is no reason to believe the unique Tejo estuary and others in Eurasia were indicative of a change in the overall productivity of coastal regions globally. Estuaries, lagoons and marshes would have formed on exposed flat lands of the exposed continental shelf during lowstands (Dias et al. 2000). The geologic record of coastal landforms was mostly destroyed and remnants are preserved underwater.

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El Juyo La Riera Altamira Rascaño

Erralla

N Chaves

Atlantic Ocean Cova Fosca Matutano

Buraca Grande Lapa do Picareiro Lapa do Suão

Caldeirão Bocas

Cova dels Blaus Cueva de la Cocina Volcán de Faro Les Mallaetes Parpalló Tossal de la Roca

Santa Maira Cova de les Cendres

Vale Boi Nerja




Mediterranean Sea



km

Figure  : Map of Iberia showing the main sites and their position in relation to the coastline during the Late Magdalenian

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The absence of a geologic and archaeological record of coastal resource abundance is not evidence of its absence. The assumption that rich marine and estuarine biota could only form after sea levels reached their current position and “stabilized” now for several millennia is weak at best. The immediate response by Mesolithic foragers to the “sudden” stability and productivity of the coast shows that these biological communities did not require millennia to form. They were already present but further out, living in now submerged estuaries, lagoons and marshes. To argue otherwise, as many have repeatedly done, is to abandon uniformitarianism. Table : comparison of shellfish and large mammal energetic values and return rates kcal/

g return rate kcal/hr cockle clam mussel oyster limpet



 

 




 




red deer wild boar goat rabbit

 
  






The second obstacle is the use of energy as the sole currency in economic models. Table 6.1 shows the energetic values and estimated return rates of shellfish compared to terrestrial game. The conclusions drawn from such comparisons by Osborn (1977), Bailey (1978), Yesner (1980, 1987), etc. seem self evident. However, as Tables 4.12 and 4.14 showed, it is clear that some shellfish types rival terrestrial animals in protein and fat content. They also offer carbohydrates which are completely lacking in terrestrial mammal meat,

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making shellfish an important resource in times of low plant availability. The fat content of fish and shellfish peaks during summer as they exploit the abundant food resources created by the upwelling of nutrients (Table 6.2). This would have been the optimum time of the year to utilize coastal resources as plant availability would be lower and terrestrial game fat reserves depleted due to the summer drought. Furthermore, as Perlman (1980) suggested, shellfish might outrank deer because of the lower risk of failure in shellfish exploitation. Table  : Seasonal nutritional composition of sardines Sardine Summer/Fall Winter Spring Protein Fat Carbohydrate kcal

   
 


 
 



 


Data from Tabela da Composição dos Alimentos Portugueses (Gonçalves Ferriera & da Silva Graça ) All analyses conducted on fresh fish

Based on these data, the coast may have been an attractive place to live during much of the Late Pleistocene. Recent oceanographic work shows the LGM coastline was situated 30-40 km away in most of Estremadura (Dias et al. 1997, 2000). This is a critical problem in evaluating the nature and timing of marine resource use because the evidence is 100-150 m underwater. In fact, it is not until the end of the Pleistocene that we see the first coastal shellmiddens in Portugal, when sea level was close to its current level. Therefore, it is tempting to suggest that marine resource use at the end of the Pleistocene represents a new adaptation. The evidence of seals and limpets from the coastal Mousterian site, Figueira Brava, dolphin from the interior Gravettian site, Lagar Velho, and limpets from Val Boi, a Gravettian and Solutrean site in Algarve, should be enough to show this is a

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Ourão Buraca Escura Buraca Grande

N

Lagar Velho

Caldeirão

Atlantic Ocean

Picareiro

Almonda

Anecrial Carneira Passal Casal do Cepo Vale Comprido

Furninha Casa da Moura Porto Dinheiro

Lapa do Suão

Lapa da Rainha Baio Vale Almoinha Salemas Rua de Campolide Poço Velho





km Vale Boi

Figure : The coastline of Portugal during the Last Glacial Maximum

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fallacy. One could also point to Cantabria, where the LGM coast was only 7-9 km away and there is solid evidence for shellfish exploitation during the Solutrean. Substantial amounts of shellfish were found in the Solutrean levels at Parpalló (Pericot 1942). Cockles and mussels were recovered in Solutrean contexts at Nerja (Jordá 1986). These sites show that the coast was settled and exploited prior to the end of the Pleistocene and regardless of climatic conditions. Though evidence for Solutrean marine food exploitation in Portugal is non-existent some hypotheses can be made using the geological record. In general, coastal zones are highly productive where upwelling occurs. These areas are often the focus of human subsistence (Perlman 1980; Bailey and Parkington 1988). Today, a fairly strong summer upwelling of cold, deep, nutrient-rich waters occurs off the western Portuguese coast. This is driven by the Trade Winds and northward flow of the Canary Current along the northwest African coast (Abrantes 2000). Though not as strong as the one occurring off the coast of Peru, (60-90 g C m-2 yr-1 off Portugal; 345 g C m-2 yr-1 off Peru) upwelling along the western Iberian margin provides sufficient nutrients to make the Portuguese coast a highly productive marine resource zone (Fiuza 1983; Abrantes 1988). Using diatom abundance in deep sea cores off the coast north of Estremadura, Abrantes (1988, 1991) noted fluctuations in upwelling intensity over the last 100,000 years. During OIS Stage 3 upwelling intensity was roughly equal to the present. However, paleoproductivity increased during Stage 2 culminating in the LGM. Upwelling intensity was an order of magnitude greater than the present making the coastal zone more fertile than today. This was probably due to intensification of the Trade Winds (Abrantes 2000). During the

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deglaciation, around 15-12 kya, upwelling intensity decreased substantially but was still 3-7 times stronger than today. Interestingly, the Pleistocene/ Holocene boundary marks a time when the coastal upwelling was at its weakest in the last 20,000 years. By the Early Holocene it dropped below current levels only to rebound in the last few thousand years. Independent studies on organic and inorganic carbon plus C37 alkenones from pytoplankton in marine sediments by Pailler and Bard (2002) confirm the intensity of the upwelling during cooler periods and its reduction during warm ones. Using a combination of marine proxy indicators, CaCO3, barium and diatoms, Thomson et al. (2000) found that the enhanced productivity of the ocean off the Portuguese coast during cold climatic events peaked at the end of glacial periods when sea levels rise. Given these facts it is likely that the western coast of Portugal during the Solutrean was an extremely attractive place for human settlement and subsistence. Marine resources would have been abundant but the terrestrial resources of the coast would have been relatively poor. In areas of the world where coastal upwelling occurs, the adjacent lands are semi-arid to arid (DiCastri 1981). This is true for the coast of Portugal, northwest Africa, the skeleton coast of Namibia, the coastal deserts of Peru and the coast of California. The region with the most intensive upwelling, Peru, also has the greatest coastal aridity. The patterns of trade winds, cold ocean currents and coastal geography create this situation. It could be argued that upwelling intensity is correlated with coastal aridity (Shi et al. 2000). Recent studies of the Benguela upwelling system off Namibia show a correlation between changing upwelling intensity and terrestrial vegetation. For central Portugal, pollen cores and charcoal studies show that vegetation at higher

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elevations was dominated by cold, arid Artemisia steppe. The land area now submerged is thought to have been mainly sandy dunes with little vegetation (Daveau 1980; Zilhão 1997). Most of the research on the continental shelf has focused on the northern Portuguese coast and many of the observations for the Estremaduran coast are based on extrapolation (Dias et al. 2000). During the LGM, the continental shelf was much steeper and wave activity would have been strong. Dias et al. (2000) argued that most of the sediment from terrestrial river systems flowed through the deep submarine canyons because the slopes between them are largely rocky and devoid of recent sediment. Sedimentation was high because lower sea levels caused lower base levels for streams. In addition, Daveau (1980) suggested greater annual rainfall and spring ice and snow melt in the mountains added even more sediment to streams. While sea levels may not have been at their maximum low long enough for soil development and forest colonization, they were considerably lower, up to 100 m, prior to and after the LGM for thousands of years. This stability is seen in the preservation of relict abrasion platforms, sea cliff remnants and off shore bars on the shelf (Dias et al. 2000). Much of the now-submerged land may have been moderately forested during the Gravettian and Magdalenian. With the productive Mediterranean plants and certain types of game, especially rabbit and wild boar, restricted to unknown refugia during the LGM, ibex and red deer would have been the main large game in the uplands, with horse in grassland zones. In order to maintain dietary balance in the face of reduced terrestrial plant productivity and rabbit populations, humans would have relied heavily on coastal resources, including fish, shellfish and marine mammals, especially during summer.

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Because the coast was much farther away, there is little evidence for inland transport of marine resources 25-40 km as there is after 10,500 bp. The majority of sites with preserved faunal remains would have been 30-60 km inland while those from the Gravettian and Magdalenian would have been 40-50 km inland. Where the bathymetry is steeper, sites with faunal preservation that would have been near the coast during lowstands contain evidence of marine resources transported inland. Vale Boi, in Algarve, illustrates the point as it contains numerous limpet shells, yet it was at least 20 km inland during its occupation. The Gravettian site of Lagar Velho, with dolphin remains, would have been 15-20 km inland. Picareiro would have been almost 40 km inland when fish and shellfish were brought to the site during the Magdalenian. Even Lapa do Suão would have been 25 km inland and it contain marine fish and shellfish. Thus, the perception that this behavior reflects a new subsistence strategy or a diversification of the diet is illusory. The Termination IA/Dryas I/Heinrich I cold period would have presented serious problems for hunter-gatherers. Sea surface temperatures were much cooler than during the LGM. Upwelling intensity was still strong but not as high as the LGM. The dry summer/ wet winter pattern was replaced by a dry summer/ dry winter one. Pollen cores indicate a further decrease in arboreal pollen. Perhaps not surprisingly, the archaeological record for this period is extremely poor. In fact, there appears to be a real hiatus in radiocarbon dates between 14,500 and 12,500 bp. Whether or not this represents a serious decline in regional population remains to be tested. People would have faced year-round drought stress. Terrestrial game was probably less available and in poorer condition. Coastal resources, especially shellfish with its minimal carbohydrate, would

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have been even more necessary. Fish and marine mammals may have been important sources of protein and fat. People may have shifted settlement locations to the coast year round. These sites would all be underwater now if they existed. When temperatures increased again after 13,000 bp, corresponding to the Bølling/ Allerød phase, arboreal pollen increased dramatically. This period appears to be as warm as today with perhaps more humidity. Mixed evergreen and deciduous Mediterranean vegetation spread along with rabbit and wild boar, perhaps to the detriment of ibex and chamois. With plant productivity high, the Magdalenian foragers would have had a much higher diversity of available resources by 12,500 bp. Plant carbohydrates would have eased the risks inherent in high protein diets and allowed for more balanced nutritional diets. Combined with the still productive ocean, these groups may have been much healthier and able to grow population. The increased number of sites dated to this period offers a striking contrast to the Early and Middle Magdalenian. Ironically, the widespread appearance of marine resources at the end of the Pleistocene coincides with a decrease in upwelling intensity and marine productivity. This does not mean that the coast was no longer an attractive zone. It was at least as productive as today. However, the terrestrial environment rebounded with higher plant productivity and increased rabbit populations. Interior sites were once again full of rabbit bones whereas they were greatly reduced during the LGM. Thus, people had access to rich marine and terrestrial biomes. The dry summer/ wet winter pattern meant that the most stressful period of the year was likely summer. Terrestrial game would have lower fat reserves. Waterfowl would have migrated north to temperate latitudes. Underground plant storage

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organs such as bulbs, roots and tubers may have been the best available plant resources. The best food source would have been fish and shellfish. Their fat reserves would be high as this part of the year is the growing and reproductive season. Human settlement would have been focused on the coast. By early fall, when rainfall returned, nut-producing trees and game animals would be the prime resources. Settlement could have shifted back to the interior. With the rains, the polje near Picareiro and other sites in the Serra d’Aire would have filled with water, possibly for longer periods than present. Freshwater crustaceans would have attracted waterfowl, game and humans alike. During the mild winter, game animals and stored nuts would have formed the basis of a nutritionally balanced diet. By early spring, rains again would bring lush vegetation providing ample supplies of greens and better provisioned game. This adaptation continued in the Epipaleolithic after 10,000 BP when we see evidence of shellfish exploitation in small coastal estuaries at sites such as São Julião, Magoito Curral Velho and Toledo. The apparent settlement shift to include the coast is simply an artifact of sea level changes. The transportation of shells inland to Bocas, Casal Papagaio and Pena de Mira is due to the shortening of the distance to the shore. As noted above, there is no reason to suggest that transporting coastal resources inland was a novel characteristic of the Epipaleolithic. The marked shift in settlement from Estremadura to the Tejo basin at the beginning of the Mesolithic occurred when the Atlantic Transgression created a huge productive estuary. This near-complete abandonment of Estremadura came at a time when coastal upwelling intensity was at its lowest in 200,000 years (Abrantes 2000). The shutdown of

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this system led to a collapse of the subsistence and settlement system that had been in place for millennia. Coastal resource availability may have decreased but the transgression enabled people to reorganize their settlement to focus on the rich and very large Tejo estuary. This would explain the abandonment of Estremadura and the sudden occurrence of sites along the margins of the Tejo estuary and small tributaries flowing into it. The terrestrial resources found in these sites were the same as those used before. There does appear to be greater aquatic resource diversity but this probably reflects site visibility and the nature of the estuarine ecosystem, not diet breadth expansion due to population pressure. However, the concentration of sites may have created local densities not possible during earlier periods. Unfortunately, no taphonomic studies have yet been made on the faunal assemblages from the large Muge shellmiddens. The appearance of cemeteries and structures at Moita do Sebastião suggests a degree of permanence if not sedentism. The lack of any comparable open sites during the Upper Paleolithic and Epipaleolithic is further evidence that social and settlement organization was quite different. Summary The human adaptations to changing Late Pleistocene climate and environments were not the result of long-term positive demographic trends requiring a broadened diet niche. Rather, they appear to have been geared towards diversity from the Early Upper Paleolithic onwards (Hockett and Haws 2002). Resource intensification is equally apparent throughout the Upper Paleolithic as rabbit exploitation patterns are similar from the Gravettian to the Final Upper Paleolithic in both Portugal and Spain. Specialized sites for processing rabbits

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and medium ungulates seem to be the only type of faunal-bearing site represented in the limestone massif. These are all caves and rockshelters. However, there are still few sites with enough faunal remains to test this hypothesis. The open-air sites seem to represent a range of sites but almost none are large enough to be considered long-term residences. The lithic technological studies of settlement patterns indicates a fairly high degree of residential mobility though not to the degree seen in northern Europe (Thacker 2000). Seasonal movements between the coast and interior allowed hunter-gatherers to maintain dietary balance throughout the year. Similar adaptations are apparent in Mediterranean Spain. The different resource use patterns in Cantabria are due to differences in climate, geography and environment. At present, the data from Portugal indicate that climate and paleoenvironmental conditions best explain the human adaptations in the Late Pleistocene and Early Holocene. Evidence for increased population size or density is not apparent. The rise in numbers of sites and occupied area is an artifact of rising sea level. Diets appear to have been equally diverse throughout the Upper Paleolithic. Specialized hunting of rabbit and ungulates corresponds to their natural abundance on the landscape. In addition, there is no evidence of resource depression forcing people to adopt low-ranked resources. The ‘Tardiglacial paradigm’ needs to be thought of not as a culmination of long-term progressive trends towards a broad spectrum adaptation but rather as a situational model that characterizes localized adaptations to changing environments by hunter-gatherers. The unique site of Nerja gives the false impression that people only began exploiting a wider variety of coastal resources in the Upper Magdalenian. The position of the coast is

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important. The cave was always relatively close to the sea, even during the glacial maximum. However, the central place foraging models illustrate how only a few kilometers can make a difference in transport decisions (Bettinger et al. 1997; Bird and Bliege Bird 1997, 2000). There is also the assumption that the cave functioned as a residential camp during the Magdalenian. Changing site function will be reflected in the kinds of resources that will be brought to the site and subsequently deposited. A serious problem in tracking increased resource utilization through time is the use of NISP. Increases in bird NISP of the amount cited by Villaverde and Martínez Valle (1995) and Aura and Pérez Ripoll (1992) could mean that only one bird was killed in each level but more bones survived in the more recent level, thus creating the illusion of greater use of birds. Population levels are difficult to assess. There are very few sites and those that exist are repeated short-term occupations by small groups. There are few if any large open-air base camps in either central Portugal of Mediterranean Spain. Both regions appear to have relatively low population densities and a moderate degree of residential mobility even in times of “intensification” and “diversification.” Straus et al. (2000) show site distributions for each cultural phase of the Upper Paleolithic in Iberia. The few number of Aurignacian and Gravettian sites indicate low populations during the Early Upper Paleolithic. Site numbers increased substantially during the Solutrean. However, there is a decrease in the Magdalenian just at the time of increased dietary diversity and resource intensification argued by proponents of the ‘Tardiglacial paradigm.’ The models proposed by Zilhão and Bicho cannot be fully tested without more data

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from other cave sites but open-air contexts as well. The pattern observed at Picareiro and Suão suggests a specialized function of caves and rockshelters as carcass processing stations not residences. Therefore, without subsistence information from the open-air sites, the overall subsistence and by implication, settlement pattern cannot be determined. With chert ubiquitous across the landscape, it is unlikely that settlement patterns will be necessarily due solely to lithic technological organization. Subsistence practices, including all of the economic and nutritional decisions made by Upper Paleolithic people, must have played a dominant role in settlement location. Here the Bicho model can be enhanced by applying the results of this dissertation.

Some directions for future research There are several lines of research that need to explored to fully test the ideas presented above. First, more nutritional data on edible wild plants and animals need to be systematically collected. Although utility indices derived from experimentation may not accurately measure economic and nutritional utility they could provide a comparable data set to the Great Basin studies. Body part utility indices for wild boar, red deer, roe deer, ibex and chamois would permit a better understanding of skeletal element representation in Upper Paleolithic sites in Portugal. Nutritional data on the full range of available fish and shellfish are also needed. Future fieldwork should involve systematic surveys along the present coast of Estremadura. Near Nazaré, coastal sand dunes contain open-air sites from the Late

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Pleistocene and Early Holocene. There are also numerous caves and rockshelters in the limestone areas between the Serras de Aire and Candeeiros that remain to be explored archaeologically. At Picareiro there are undated levels that extend back to the Middle Paleolithic that need to be opened up in order to investigate problems such as the nature and timing of rabbit hunting in central Portugal. This has important implications for current models (Hockett and Haws 2002). Due to the high-energy waves that shape the western Portuguese coast, the likelihood that underwater open-air sites could be found is very slim. Survey and exploration of underwater caves may be a better avenue to pursue. During the Late Pleistocene, when rivers such as the Tejo were downcutting, people likely camped near their banks. These locations are almost unknown for the Pleistocene with a couple of notable exceptions. Because the Atlantic transgression would have rapidly inundated the lower reaches of the Tejo through low energy processes, the likelihood that Late Pleistocene sites are buried under several meters of recent alluvium is probably high. Deep coring of these sediments may be a worthwhile endeavor. The taphonomic analyses of Picareiro and Suão highlight the need for additional sites to be studied in the manner. Excavation methodology is generally quite good at present. Techniques are adequate for recovering the smallest bone specimens and most recognize the need for keeping all of the remains. However, the recovery of plant remains is not being systematically undertaken. Flotation needs to be done but so far all plant parts are recovered only through wet-sieving sediment samples. A new project in Estremadura is identifying plant exploitation through use-wear and starch grain identification. This holds

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promise for recovering evidence of plant use in the open-air sites as well as caves and shelters.

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Analyzing adaptive strategies: human behavioral ecology at twenty-five. Evolutionary Anthropology:51-72.

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The archaeo-ethnology of hunter-gatherers or the tyranny of the ethnographic record in archaeology. American Antiquity 43(2):303-309.

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Small mammals: !Kung San utilization and the production of faunal assemblages. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 10:1-26.

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Small mammals: post discard patterning of !Kung San faunal remains. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 10:152-192.

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1987

Life in the “Garden of Eden”: causes and consequences of the adoption of marine diets by human societies. In Food and Evolution: Toward a Theory of Human Food Habits. M. Harris and E. B. Voss, eds. pp. 285-310. Philadelphia: Temple University Press.

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1990

Portuguese Estremadura at 18,000 BP: the Solutrean. In The World at 18,000 BP. O. Soffer and C. Gamble, eds. pp. 109-125. London: Unwin Hyman.

1992

Estrategias de povoamento e subsistencia no paleolitico e no mesolitico de Portugal. In Elefantes, Ciervos, y Ovicaprinos. A. M. Romanillo, ed. pp. 149-62. Santander: Universidad de Cantabria.

1993

O Paleolitico superior: retrospectiva historica e stado dos conhecimentos. In O Quaternario em Portugal: Balanco e Perspectivas. G. S. Carvalho, A. B. Ferreira, and J. C. Senna-Martinez, eds. pp. 163-72. Lisboa: Edicoes Colibri.

1993

The spread of agro-pastoral economies across Mediterranean Europe: A view from the Far West. Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 6(1):5-63.

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O Paleolitico Superior da Estremadura Portuguesa. Doctoral dissertation. Universidade de Lisboa.

1997

The palaeolithic settlement of Portuguese Estremadura after the Last Glacial Maximum. In El Món Mediterrani després del Pleniglacial (18,000-12,000 BP). J. M. Fullola and N. Soler, eds. pp. 233242. Girona: Sèrie Monogràfica, 17, Museu d’Arqueologia de Catalunya-Girona.

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