The International Yeti Collective

by Paul Mason

  “Uncle Jack, look!” Ella called, pointing.

  “It looks like some kind of stretcher,” said Ana.

  “Whatever it is, we need to go in and get it,” said Jack. “It must belong to the yeti – it has to.”

  As she watched Ana and Walker brave the water, Ella felt a sudden ache of remorse. The yeti had fled from them. They were scared. Whatever this bundle was that they’d just found, the yeti couldn’t have meant to leave it behind. What had they done?

  *

  Tick watched the humans, his fists clenched, hoping they somehow wouldn’t see the slabs caught in the water. Then Pebble Nose pointed to the river and Tick knew all was lost.

  Back in the jungle, for an alarming moment, their glances had met. He’d never forget the look of surprise in the girl’s eyes. He and Mooch had fled, striding like never before, until they reached the river and warned the others. The slab bearers had been forced to drop the carvings and run – Dahl had given them no choice. In his hurry, Tick had panicked and thrown himself out of sight behind a rock. Then the human silverback had burst out of the jungle on the back of a yak, and his thunderclap had roared and rumbled.

  Now the other humans gathered. They waded into the water, battling the river with their stick legs. Once they reached the slabs, they took hold of the stretcher poles, but struggled to lift them. Pebble Nose and the silverback went to help, and somehow they dragged the stretcher on to dry land, where they collapsed on the ground. Tick buried his head in his hands. The slabs should have been at the head of the convoy, next to Greatrex.

  Got any plans now? he whimpered. But the idea fly was nowhere. Tick calmed his breathing down, then poked his head back out as far as he dared. There was no sign of Dahl, Mooch or any of the others. Plumm was nowhere to be seen. When the thunderclap boomed, everyone had fled.

  Tick searched for a way out of this predicament. What if he waded across the river and charged at them? But there were four humans, three jackals, a massive yak and the thunderclap against one of him. He’d have to find another way.

  Tick watched as the humans undid a little bit of the covering and peered in. Touched the precious carvings with their human hands. They seemed pleased. Even creatures as foolish as humans could sense the importance of the slabs. The silverback strutted about like a rainbow bird. Then they wrapped up the slabs again and lifted the poles from one end, tying them to the back of the yak. Clever, thought Tick. The yak could drag the slabs down the hill.

  Tick watched the humans disappear once more into the forest. They’d be heading back to their cocoons, he guessed. He decided he would go there too, so he could keep the slabs close by until he figured out what to do. He crept away from the river’s edge and took to the trees. He would get to their camp before they did and lie in wait.

  Tick drifted through the jungle, the leathery soles of his feet meeting the soil, his gait rolling and steady – arms swinging low, his fur blending in with the trees. Tick felt sick to his stomach. His fixation with clearing his mother’s name had landed the sett in deep trouble. Of course humans would try to find them – that’s what they did. Why had he thought differently? If he had listened to Greatrex, then none of this would have happened. And now the slabs were in human hands.

  “Eat up your clay,” Tick could hear mothers warning their children for moons to come. “Eat it all up unless you want to turn out like Tick the senseless.”

  He had to find a way of making it right.

  *

  The human camp by the water’s edge showed no signs of the humans – Tick had arrived first. The skin of the cocoons fluttered like leaves in the breeze, the yak tethered further up the clearing snuffled as they grazed and the birds called, but other than that there was nothing. Tick breathed in. He caught the smell of burnt wood, of yak fur – warm from the sun – and jackal scent.

  Perhaps you should do something to the cocoons! The idea fly buzzed into life. What if the humans came back and found everything ruined? They might get scared. They might decide to leave the slabs and run away.

  Are you sure? Tick gulped. It was not in a yeti’s nature to be destructive. It went against the yeti laws.

  Desperate times call for some rule-breaking, the fly pointed out.

  You’re right, agreed Tick. He glanced around, making sure the humans weren’t approaching, before wading across the river. Time I repaid the humans for all the trouble they’ve caused.

  The yak caught the whiff of the young yeti and snorted at him as he passed, stamping their hooves.

  “Don’t mind me, just carry on with your dinner,” Tick said, striding up to the first cocoon. It was easy enough to push over. He just snapped the thin sticks that held it up, and it collapsed in a heap. Tick took hold of the skin and dragged the whole thing into the river to give it a good dunking, before flinging it back on to the rocks with a SPLOT like the droppings of a goat with an upset stomach. He got started on the other cocoons, tearing them to shreds, before ripping a hole in the silverback’s cocoon and going to work with his staff, smashing and stomping everything inside.

  Tick spied a black, shiny thing. It was tucked underneath some coverings, hidden in the corner like a secret. A light on it blinked like a firefly that couldn’t make up its mind. Tick threw it up in the air and let it hit the ground, smashing into several pieces, then gave it several thumps with his staff for good measure.

  See how you like that, thought Tick.

  The sun was already dropping behind the mountains by the time Ella and the others straggled back to camp. Ella’s feet were tender, her knees like jelly, but none of that seemed to matter. As she stumbled along, she couldn’t stop thinking about the yeti in the trees – the mournful look in its eyes.

  It occurred to her that the creature hadn’t been there by chance. It was as if it was keeping a lookout. They were expecting us to come, thought Ella, and that means they’re clever. Before the film crew turned up, the yeti were at peace. And now they were on the run.

  It made Ella think back to a summer a few years ago, when her family used to live in the countryside. Near her house there was a sheltered creek. Not everyone knew it was there – you had to push through the bush for a while, weaving through the trees until you came to the bank. It was like knowing a secret. Then, if you sat still for long enough, staring down at the lazy water, you could spot dark eels drifting out from the reeds, weaving against the flow like ribbons. Ella never got tired of watching them.

  But one day a pair of boys from her school must have seen her entering the bush, and followed her trail. She turned and saw them stomping behind her through the undergrowth, whooping when they spotted the creek. Before Ella knew it, they had reached into their backpacks and pulled out hand lines and hooks.

  She watched in fear as they fixed their bait and dropped the hooks into the water. Ella knew they weren’t after the eels for food. These boys wanted to try and land them simply for sport – just because they could.

  Ella wanted to explain that the eels were special. There weren’t as many around as before. That, if conditions were right, they could live to be a hundred years old and that they deserved more than a grubby hook.

  Ella wanted to tell them all of that, and more. But she just sat there, trembling. And when she couldn’t take it any more – the thought of seeing them catch one was too much – she got to her feet and scrambled away, face burning. She knew it was all her fault. The boys only found the eels because of her.

  Now as Ella walked through the forest, thousands of miles away from home, she hoped their film crew hadn’t just done the same thing to the yeti. She’d dreamed of big yeti headlines but now Ella wasn’t so sure she wanted that at all.

  Uncle Jack caught up to her and patted the bundle they’d retrieved from the river. “Camera-trap footage. Real yeti objects. We’ve got them now, Ella!” He grinned. “What a trip this is turning out to be.”

  Ella didn’t smile back. Uncle Jack was supposed to be the person who wanted to protect natur
e. Jack Stern, wildlife supporter. But now it was becoming clear to her that her uncle was after something completely different.

  *

  Ella and Shaan were the first to emerge from the forest to their campsite by the river. Ella gasped. The tents were flattened and equipment lay scattered about the clearing: sleeping bags, pots, pans, books, tripods, food – the lot.

  “What the – the camp!” Jack hissed as the others caught up. He slipped the rifle off his shoulder.

  “It’s been ransacked,” said Walker.

  “Robbers?” said Ella.

  “Not this far out, surely,” Ana said, looking puzzled.

  “Monkeys?” said Walker. “What about those jackals?”

  Ana nodded. “You’re right. Something came for our food.”

  Jack spotted his tent, still standing but torn to shreds. He let out a groan. “The laptop…”

  “And the clip from the camera trap!” said Ella.

  Walker rushed to the tent and then came back out, pieces of computer in his hands. “I think we’ve got a problem.”

  “Oh no…” Ana took the laptop from Walker and set it down on the ground. The case was completely crushed. She ejected the memory chip from the side, but, as it came out, it fell apart.

  “We have a copy, right?” said Ella.

  Ana shook her head. “We didn’t upload it on the sat link. Not even on to an external hard drive.”

  “And I didn’t get one shot of the creature today,” said Walker.

  “Why did we leave that chip here? Why?” Jack moaned.

  “You still have those, Uncle Jack,” said Ella, pointing to the bundle on the poles.

  Jack nodded. “True. We need to have a proper look – right now.”

  Ana and Walker undid the ropes holding the poles and freed Shaan, who wandered over to the other yak to graze. Ella led the exhausted dogs over to their blanket and gave them a big bowl of food – somehow the dog biscuits hadn’t been touched.

  Then Ella and the film crew stood round the bundle, a little hesitant. Finally, Ana kneeled down and untied the covering, letting it fall to the sides. Jack put down his rifle and turned on his headlamp.

  There were five slabs, each about the size of a coffee table. Little flourishes and curls, delicately carved into the rock, covered the grey stone blocks. The slabs looked old to Ella, the edges worn smooth as if by the touch of many hands. She ran her fingers over the stone, a quiver running up her arm.

  “They’re beautiful,” she said at last. She wanted to take some photos, but then remembered Uncle Jack had said not to.

  “Totally astonishing,” Ana mumbled, her hands over her mouth. “It looks like script.”

  “Yeti can write? Wow,” said Jack. “Didn’t see that coming.”

  “I wonder what it says?” said Ella, tracing the writing with her fingers.

  “We’ll need to have it examined by a linguist to work that out – and find out who carved it. These things may yet be human,” said Ana.

  “Please, Ana. We saw the yeti running away. Then we found these things right in their path,” said Jack.

  “They have to be connected,” agreed Walker.

  A smile broke over Ana’s face. Ella could see the director was starting to believe the slabs belonged to the yeti too. “This is mind-blowing,” Ana chuckled.

  Jack grinned. “I can see the teaser for Yeti Quest now.” He got to his feet. “Mood lighting, dramatic music, a close-up shot as the camera tracks along the slabs. Join Jack Stern as he discovers a secret as old as the mountains. Join him on the quest of a lifetime. Join him on a quest for yeti. This is going to be the biggest show for years. Red carpet, awards, the whole deal.” Jack laughed. “We’ll do a lecture tour – that’ll go viral too. There could be merchandise tie-ins, movie rights, you name it. Everyone everywhere will have their piece of yeti.”

  Ella felt her chest tighten. What if the yeti didn’t want to be part of all that?

  Jack leaned down and pulled the coverings back over the slabs. “But first we have to make sure these things are safe – get them into that packing crate and secured. Just in case the animals that did this to our camp come back. I’d better stand guard.” He picked up his rifle again.

  Ella looked round at her sopping tent. She went over and picked it up, and let it drop back down. Her sleeping bag was still in there too. She spied their food supplies, crushed and mangled. Her favourite book. “Where are we going to sleep tonight? What are we going to eat?”

  “Well, let’s get a big fire going, and then see if we can’t dry out our bags, and then try and patch together the last tent standing,” suggested Ana.

  “I’ll see what food is salvageable,” added Walker.

  “I’m on the firewood,” said Ella.

  Back over by the trees, she stopped and peered into the forest. Then she bent down and started gathering twigs.

  *

  From his vantage point on the other side of the river, Tick couldn’t stop a little smile of satisfaction taking hold. Ruining the camp had been a good idea. He could tell it was a complete shock to them – the way their shoulders dropped, the way they stumbled around, looking lost. The stunned expressions on their faces when they saw what he’d done to the shiny thing.

  But, for all their worried looks, they weren’t running away in fright as he’d hoped. In fact, they looked like they were setting everything back up as best they could. Pebble Nose was building another fire.

  Then Tick froze. There was a smell on the wind – foul and potent. He knew that smell. But, before he could turn round, a massive hand clamped itself over his mouth and hot breath whistled in his ear like flames.

  “Senseless yeti,” came the hiss.

  Tick swallowed.

  “The camp of the humans – was that you?” said Dahl.

  Tick nodded.

  “Dishonourable youngling. Since when does a yeti—” Dahl shook his head and lifted his hand off Tick’s mouth. Tick could see he didn’t have the strength to bother telling him off.

  “I had a plan,” whispered Tick. “I wanted the humans to get scared and run away, leaving the slabs behind.”

  “Doesn’t seem to have worked, does it?” said Dahl.

  Tick dropped his head, and let out a long sigh.

  “Just as well I split off from the others and followed the humans back here,” said Dahl.

  “Is everyone else safe?”

  “As far as I’m aware, they all got away up the river. They’ll be halfway to Staunch Veil by now.” Dahl paused. “Plumm was among them.”

  “Good.”

  The sound of hammering coming from the human camp interrupted them.

  “Oh no,” Tick hissed.

  The humans were packing the carvings into a wooden shell – made from pieces of straight wood. They closed the shell and sealed the slabs inside with more banging and hammering. When the slabs were secure, one of the humans marked the side of the shell with strange symbols. Then they tied the jackals up close by to guard it.

  Dahl’s shoulders slumped. “They plan to steal the slabs away.”

  “What do we do now?”

  Tick and Dahl stayed until all of the humans squeezed themselves into the last cocoon standing. They stayed until the human fire had died down to nothing, and still neither of them had worked out a plan.

  *

  Early the next morning, the film crew huddled round the fire, discussing plans. Ella stirred the hot chocolate. She’d slept terribly, all of them squashed together in the single remaining tent, with someone snorting and snuffling like a warthog. Ella suspected it was Walker.

  “They said the chopper would be here before noon. It was lucky you had the satphone on you yesterday and didn’t leave it here, Jack,” said Ana.

  “Then that’s settled. Ella and I will fly back home with the slabs.”

  Ella stopped stirring. “We’re going back?”

  “Right now, those slab things are the best proof we’ve got.” Jack poured h
imself a mug of hot chocolate and sipped it. “I want them under lock and key.”

  “I have to agree,” said Ana. “We should get those artefacts back and then regroup. The likelihood of finding any further evidence in this location is virtually zero. Those creatures won’t be returning.”

  “Then the trip’s over? But we just got here.”

  Jack saw the look on Ella’s face. “I feel the same way. I wish we could stay and keep searching. But once we’re back home, and have deciphered the writing on the slabs, I’ll go to the studio and get them to fund another expedition. No shoestring budget this time. We’ll return with a massive crew.”

  “I think they’ll go for it,” agreed Ana.

  Ella tried to picture what their peaceful little clearing would look like swarming with people, more dogs and drones.

  “Those yeti won’t have a chance to escape a second time,” said Uncle Jack as if reading her mind.

  “But what if showing them to the world means putting them in danger?” said Ella. “What if they end up like the dodo or the moa, Uncle Jack?”

  “Won’t happen,” said Jack.

  “But what if it did?”

  Jack smiled at her. “It’s highly unlikely. Don’t worry so much.”

  Ella took her hot chocolate and went over to sit near Shaan. Ella had seen the yeti first. She’d discovered them and she felt responsible. Now other people would come – many others – and she wouldn’t even be there to see how it panned out. The yeti’s fate was out of her hands.

  “I don’t really want to leave, Shaan,” Ella whispered to the yak. “Not the yeti, not the mountain, not you.”

  But he just looked down at her with a blank expression and carried on eating.

  *

  “I’ve got it,” murmured Tick. The two yeti were downwind of the human camp, flat on their stomachs, staffs by their sides.

  “Please tell me you’re thinking of something even remotely sensible,” Dahl muttered.

  “I’ll let the humans see me,” said Tick. “On purpose.”