A new study, published in the Cambridge Archaeological Journal by Dr. Esther Jacobson-Tepfer, reveals an astonishing transformation in elk images in 12,000 years of Altai rock art in western Mongolia. Once drawn in realistic detail, elk gradually evolved into stylized, nearly unrecognizable wolf-like figures, reflecting deep transformations of environment, mobility, and idenтιтy.

Stylized elk. Credit: Gary Tepfer, in Jacobson-Tepfer, Cambridge Archaeological Journal (2025)

The Altai region, where Mongolia, Russia, China, and Kazakhstan meet, has one of the world’s longest continuous rock art traditions, from the Late Paleolithic (c. 12,000 BP) to the Bronze Age and on into the Early Iron Age. Of all prehistoric carvings, the elk (Cervus elaphus sibiricus) held a special place. In the earliest paintings, elk were drawn in natural poses, sometimes with their young or with other then-extant animals like mammoths and woolly rhinos. These early depictions, carved in profile with proportional realism and vestigial legs, revealed a deep observational knowledge of the natural world.

Over time, particularly in the Bronze Age, these images changed. Elk became more dynamic and were inserted increasingly into human activity contexts, such as hunting. By the later Bronze Age, realism gave way to abstraction—elk became elongated, antlers exaggerated, and facial details distorted into snout- or beak-like forms. Eventually, elk no longer resembled the real animal so much, but rather turned into a symbol, possibly of status, clan idenтιтy, or spiritual belief.

Given the weather and the elapsed time since the Bronze and Early Iron Ages, it would be out of the question for painted images to survive outdoors in the Altai Mountains. There is only a single known surviving painted elk image today, in Khoit Tsenkir cave in Khovd Aimag.

Two elk and three hunters on a vertical surface. Bronze Age. Tsagaan Gol complex. Credit: Gary Tepfer, in Jacobson-Tepfer, Cambridge Archaeological Journal (2025)

This symbolic development appears very much connected with social and environmental change. During the Holocene, the Eurasian steppe cooled and dried, and forests—attractive elk environments—receded. Elk shifted west, and people increasingly adopting pastoralism followed the shifting landscape up into higher alтιтudes. Rock art itself attests to this shift, as carvings appear at greater elevations over time.

Dr. Jacobson-Tepfer’s long experience in fieldwork in the region underscores the effects of climate and movement on daily life and on art. While surveying Tsagaan Salaa IV in 1995, she found a vast glacial boulder overlooking a broad valley floor. One elk image carved on its surface, distorted and otherworldly, stood out from hundreds more. “It seemed to reflect a complex interweaving of deep geological time, iconography, and its social implications,” she wrote, describing the boulder as not only an artifact—but a symbol of evolving cultural idenтιтy.

Boulder with large, stylized elk. View to the south and the peak of Taldagiin Ikh Uul. Baga Oigor complex, TS IV. Credit: Gary Tepfer, in Jacobson-Tepfer, Cambridge Archaeological Journal (2025)

Later, travel on mounted horses changed humans’ relation to the world. Art featured stylized animals on personal items, symbolizing new social hierarchies and mobility. The elk, which was once a living element of nature, became a symbolic representation. By the Turkic period, it disappeared completely from the art tradition.

More information: Jacobson-Tepfer, E. (2025). From Monumental Realism to Denatured Beast: The Transformation of the Elk Image in Rock Art of the Altai Mountains (Mongolia) and its Cultural Implications. Cambridge Archaeological Journal. DOI: 10.1017/S0959774325000137