The International Yeti Collective

by Paul Mason

  Tick inched through the narrow crack and out into the open. He breathed in, glad of the fresh air. It was a jungle, that much he could tell. The scent of damp soil, of rotting leaves – the strange pungent reek of unseen flowers – it all spoke of the land of the Orang Pendek. They hadn’t travelled that far at all then. Tick listened for sounds of the humans’ yellow beasts but there was nothing above the chirrup of crickets.

  What to do? He would rest somewhere safe, then see about another raft. He had to keep going.

  Tick’s eyes adjusted to the gloom and now he could make out dark shapes ahead in the jungle. He ducked behind a tree as quickly as he could manage, blocking out the agony in his head as he gawped at the strange figures. They still hadn’t moved. He took another deep breath – there was no smell coming from them. Flittermouse peeped down from the canopy above.

  “An empty dwelling? Are you sure?” Tick leaned on his staff and crept through the forest towards the strange shapes. If it was a dwelling, he’d find shelter there. When he was close enough to touch one of the dark shapes, he found they were made of stone. Tumbledown dwellings carved from rocks, most likely human shelters once upon a time. Tree trunks thrust their way through the walls, vines grasped at the stone, so that the dwellings were now more jungle than anything else. Tick pushed through a clutch of vines and stumbled into the darkness, seeking a hidden corner. He was too weak to search further. Tick found a dark corner, and lowered himself to the ground, grateful to rest his head.

  Then, through half-closed eyelids, Tick caught sight of a large shape moving through the shadows – creeping towards him between the vines. He raised himself to face the shape … and blacked out.

  *

  Tick woke up, wincing at the glow of sunlight, and immediately shut his eyes. Everything was fuzzy. He remembered stumbling out of the cave, finding the strange ruins in the jungle. Then he vaguely recalled that something had come towards him in the dark. With a start, Tick forced his eyes open again and sat up.

  There it was! A figure by his side – a blur. A yeti smell. But the effort of sitting up was too much for him and he fell back down.

  “Try and keep your eyes open, Tick,” a voice came to him, as soft as lichen.

  “Plumm?” said Tick. He blinked a few times but still couldn’t see. “I caught up to you!”

  “It’s not Plumm,” said the voice.

  “What happened?” mumbled Tick at the blurry shape. “Where am I?”

  “Among the ruins. I discovered you last night – your bat said the snake got you, and then you were swept over the waterfall.”

  Though he hadn’t heard it in many, many moons, the voice sounded just like his mum’s. That must have been one serious knock on the head.

  “You sound like my mother,” he whispered.

  “That’s right, Tick. I am your mother,” said the voice.

  Tick felt a hand stroke his cheek and warm lips on his forehead. A pungent smell invaded his nostrils; of pine sap and earth, of sunshine on rock, of mulberry jam and fungus. Tick sat bolt upright, the pain forgotten, and his eyes wide open.

  “Mum?”

  Leaning over him was a kind face with lively green eyes, a gentle brow ridge, a bottom lip that stuck out just a little – like that of a curious youngling – and a shock of red hair circling her head, soft and long.

  Jiffi gazed at her son with tears in her eyes. “Yes, it’s me, Tick.”

  “But how? I thought you were…” Tick threw his arms round her. “Oh, Mum. I’ve missed you.”

  “Not as much as I’ve missed you,” murmured Jiffi, squeezing hard.

  Mother and son held each other tight. The warm squash of her arms, the soft breath, a kiss, and Tick knew she was real. This was real!

  “Where are we, Mum?” said Tick finally, wiping his eyes.

  “The ruins of the human sett – my home, in the jungle, a few moons from where the Orang Pendek live,” explained Jiffi. “I landed here many cycles ago, same as you, washed up by the waterfall. Your friends too.”

  “Dahl, Plumm? They’re here?” Tick could hardly believe it.

  “They’re out foraging. They’ll be back soon. We’ve all been very worried about you.”

  Tick lay back down. “Did they tell you what I did?”

  “They told me about the slabs.”

  “I’ve made such a mess, Mum.”

  “I heard about what happened on the mountain. I’ve also heard how brave you’ve been to track down the carvings, how you put yourself in harm’s way just to get them back. I’ve heard it all.”

  “I’ve been a foolish, stupid yeti, Mum.”

  “We all make mistakes in life, Tick. It’s how you respond to them that counts,” said Jiffi. She leaned down again and hugged him tight.

  “I always knew I’d see you again,” said Tick.

  “Me too,” said Jiffi.

  The entrance to the cave darkened. “Lazing about while others work, why am I not surprised?” came Dahl’s deep voice.

  Tick stiffened.

  “He’s just joking,” said Plumm, appearing beside him. “You big meanie,” she added.

  Tick heard Dahl chuckle. Then the huge head of the Guardian leaned over him, blocking out the light, Flittermouse perched on his shoulder. “It’s good to see you again, foolish yeti,” he said with a chortle. “Let’s hope that rock knocked some sense into you.”

  “Good to see you too, Dahl.”

  Flittermouse chirruped and Tick lifted a hand to scratch under her chin. He found it hard to believe he hadn’t liked bats once upon a time. But then he’d never met Flittermouse.

  Plumm came over and squeezed his shoulder. “We were so worried when we woke up and found you gone the other moon,” she said. “What happened?”

  Tick sat up and Jiffi handed him a coconut shell filled with water. “It started with a fire,” Tick explained, taking a long drink. He told them all about his adventures. From battling the forest fire, to the human contraptions, to Strut and the raft of spiky fruit.

  “And the firestorm you saw, can you explain it?” asked Dahl.

  “I’m not sure,” said Tick. “But it seemed as though the humans were doing it on purpose.”

  Jiffi sighed. “Some humans burn the forest to clear space to grow their oil trees. It’s been going on for some time.”

  “Oil trees?” asked Tick.

  “Palms with nuts on them. They crush the nuts to make oil.”

  “How do you know so much?” asked Dahl.

  “Lots of time on your hands when you’re banished,” said Jiffi. “I do what I can to rescue the animals, but against the fire and the yellow beasts with circle feet I have no defence.”

  “They were terrifying, I don’t mind admitting,” said Tick.

  “Well, I hope you’ll be well enough to travel in the morning,” said Dahl. “The new boat is ready – we have time to make up.”

  “I’ll be ready,” Tick insisted.

  “The good news is that Jiffi has travelled these waters before and can help point us in the right direction,” said Dahl.

  “You’re coming with us?” Tick began to smile.

  “Silly question,” Jiffi replied. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. Ever.”

  When Tick was feeling well enough to walk, Jiffi took him to have a look round her home. In the sunlight, Tick gaped at the ruins of the human sett. They seemed to stretch on forever. Jiffi led him along the winding paths that worked their way through the stone skeletons, Flittermouse darting and weaving.

  “Humans built it a long time ago and then abandoned it to the trees. No one knows why. It belongs to the animals now.”

  Jiffi stopped and showed Tick a stone wall. “But they made some beautiful things – look.” Chiselled into the wall was a forest scene. A tree with branches full of tiny teardrop leaves; a trio of storks strutting in a dance, long necks stretching to the sky; a pair of monkeys eating fruit while, on bended knee, a human cupped his hands together and bowed hi
s head in admiration for them all.

  Jiffi traced the shape of the human with her fingers. “People aren’t all tree burners, that much I know.”

  The way the human in the carving looked at the animals made Tick think of Pebble Nose. “What really happened with you and the humans?” he asked. “I need to know.”

  “I’ll tell you about it later, I promise.”

  Tick found an animal with a long nose carved into the stone. “Is that an elephant?”

  “Yes, there’s still a few around.”

  Jiffi lifted Tick’s hands from the stone and gazed at them. “You’ve got your father’s hands. Big lumpy fingers.”

  Tick dropped his head. “If only I’d met him. Just once.”

  “You did meet him, Tick. He used to hold you in his arms every chance he got,” said Jiffi.

  “I wish I could remember.”

  Jiffi took his hand again. “Come, let me show you.” Tick followed his mum towards the sound of water murmuring over rocks. Jiffi stopped at a shallow pool of clear water fed by a gentle stream. “This is the clearest, stillest pool in the jungle,” she explained. “Kneel down on the bank and stare at the water.”

  Tick got down on his knees, and did as his mother asked. It took his eyes a few minutes to adjust, but in the surface of the dark pool he saw a young yeti staring back at him, a mother looking over his shoulder.

  “You see those kind eyes?”

  Tick gazed at the water and nodded.

  “They’re your father’s eyes. The way your face crinkles up around them when you laugh – just like your dad. Your nostrils flare up just the way his did when he was excited. The big brave head – full of questions – exactly the same.” Jiffi turned Tick round. “You may not remember meeting him, Tick. But he’s there with you all the time.”

  “It’s been really hard not having either of you around,” said Tick.

  “I wanted you to be safe,” Jiffi said, her eyes filling up with tears.

  “I guess we’re here together now, aren’t we? That’s what matters,” said Tick. He gave her a hug.

  Jiffi wiped her damp face with the back of her hands. “Now how about something to eat, Flittermouse?” she said, smiling at the little bat who hung in the tree above them. “I know where you can get the best guava in the whole forest.” Taking hold of Tick’s hand, Jiffi led the way.

  *

  In the morning, Jiffi took the other three yeti down along the rocky stream bed, and towards a deep gorge where there was an entrance to the waterway big enough to get the boat through. Dahl and Jiffi carried the new canoe above their heads. Tick and Plumm brought the food sacks and paddles. Hanging over his shoulder, Dahl had what remained of Tick’s spiky fruit tied together with vines.

  The gang of yeti trudged ankle deep into the river and headed towards the darkness, Flittermouse flying ahead. Following the course of the stream soon brought them to the waterway itself and the walls of rock closed in around them once more. As they lowered the boat on to the water, Dahl seemed pleased to see that it floated. They pulled it along until the water was deep enough for the boat to drift fully loaded. Flittermouse hung upside down from the roof of the cave.

  “I hope we don’t come across another snake,” Tick muttered.

  “Don’t worry, they won’t cross the waterfall – they’re too scared,” said Jiffi.

  Dahl kneeled down and tied the spiky fruit to both sides of the boat. “I’ll take the front and Jiffi the back. Younglings in the middle.”

  “Do you know these waterways?” asked Jiffi. Dahl shook his head. “Then perhaps I should go at the front.”

  Tick saw Dahl stiffen. Then he relaxed. “Yes, that’s a good idea.”

  “Jiffi, have you been to visit the Makimaki before?” asked Plumm.

  “No, but I’ve been close,” said Jiffi. “I hear they’re a good bunch.”

  Dahl held the boat steady and gestured for Tick and Plumm to get on board. Then Jiffi quickly made herself comfortable at the front. Dahl spread the sacks out along the length of the boat. Finally the Guardian stepped gingerly into his place at the back. Even with the spiky fruit tied to the sides, the boat sat worryingly low in the river.

  “Let’s hope we encounter no more rapids,” Dahl said as he untied the rope and pushed away from the bank. They began drifting with the current at once, Jiffi setting the stroke, Plumm and Tick following her paddle with their own.

  “Hard right, Dahl,” Jiffi commanded as they reached a fork in the tunnel.

  “Right it is,” said Dahl.

  For a long time, the four paddles worked with the current, and the boat sliced through the water, the yeti not saying a word. Tick could tell they were making good time, not stopping to rest. They passed several Collective signs without pause, taking it in turns to doze in the boat when they felt tired. Above their heads and a thick layer of rock was an ocean, deep and wide. Once across it, they would be in the land of the Makimaki.

  *

  “I’m bored,” announced Plumm, her voice breaking through the darkness.

  Dahl groaned. “Not this again.”

  “I think we should have stopped and had a chat with the Yowie when we passed by,” said Plumm. “It seemed a bit rude not saying hello.”

  “You spend your whole life never seeing another yeti sett, and now you worry about social calls?” said Dahl.

  “Maybe on the way back,” suggested Tick.

  “Just saying,” said Plumm.

  Tick dipped his oar in and pulled. “How much further, Mum?”

  “Not long, a couple of moons at the most.”

  “Why don’t you tell us now?” said Tick.

  “Tell you what?” asked Jiffi.

  “About getting banished.”

  “You’ve heard it all before, haven’t you?” Jiffi sighed. “Broke the slab laws – seen at a human dwelling, consorting with a human. Putting the sett at risk – almost bringing the whole world tumbling down on our shaggy heads?”

  “That’s what everyone says,” admitted Tick.

  “There are two sides to every story.”

  “Then what did happen?” asked Tick.

  Jiffi fell silent and gave a few more paddle strokes.

  “I was a moon’s striding from our sett, low down in the mountains, gathering a different fungus spore for the fungusatory. I was foraging in the undergrowth when I sensed something upwind. Something rustling in the bushes. And then I saw her.”

  Jiffi paused for a moment. “Dark hair, deep brown skin the colour of a nut – no more meat on her than a bird. A human child. Through the thin cloth covering her body, I could see just how frail she was, how fragile. That’s what she was – a fledgling bird fallen out of its nest. The child was lost, and a long way from her sett in human strides. As the girl sat there, sobbing, wet streaks crept down through the dirt on her face, like rivers of sadness. When your father passed away, I shed them too – I’ll never forget. I stared at her for a time, and the longer I watched, the more I knew I needed to do something to help her. There were jackals all around and night was close. It wouldn’t take them long to find her. How she’d survived out there until then, I did not know. But I hardly dared to move – I mean, to approach her, a human! I would have to risk everything. If anyone found out, I’d lose my life in the sett, life with my son.”

  Tick felt a lump building in his throat.

  “So, I made a hard choice. No yeti would turn their back on the smallest bird – why then a human? We were cousins once upon a time, weren’t we? I knew I couldn’t leave her. And, when I emerged out of the bushes, to my astonishment the girl wasn’t frightened. Not in the least. She smiled at me. Do you know how humans smile? They show their teeth like this.” Jiffi turned round and lifted her upper lip, baring her yellow teeth.

  Tick and the others giggled at her contorted face.

  “A human smile means they’re happy and want to be friendly – same as ours,” explained Jiffi. “Next thing I knew, the girl flung her ar
ms round me and buried her face in my fur. Can you imagine? Here I was, several times larger – capable of tearing her limb from limb – and she had opened her arms to me. I could feel her heartbeat through my fur. I knew in that moment that humans are capable of great trust. In her heart, she was no different from me, from you. The elders don’t tell us all that.”

  Tick thought back to the forest and the way Pebble Nose and he had made contact. He’d felt it too.

  “So I slowly gathered my nerve,” Jiffi continued. “I reached down and picked her up as if she was no more than a basket of fungus. As far as I knew, no yeti had ever embraced a human before. I felt the girl go limp in my arms with relief. She was happy.

  “It didn’t take me long at full stride to reach the human sett with its walls made of mud, and its cows. The child had fallen asleep in my arms some time before. Making sure the way was clear of humans, I laid her gently down outside the front door of a dwelling, banging on it with my hand, and I fled. I was gone before any other humans saw me.”

  “So then what happened?” asked Tick.

  “I was discovered,” Jiffi sighed. “To this moon, I can’t explain it. Another yeti out foraging? Perhaps I’d been followed? Word soon reached the Council. The elders confronted me, and, though some things they had heard were false, I couldn’t deny that I’d been with the humans at their sett. I tried to explain why but they ignored my words. The punishment was carved in stone.”

  “I should have shown more trust in you,” Dahl sighed.

  “You weren’t to blame, Dahl. If it had been you at the human dwelling instead of me, I would probably have been just as shocked.” Jiffi turned round and squeezed his hand.

  “Then what?” asked Plumm.

  “The worst decision you can imagine. To leave my son behind. I decided the safe arms of the sett were a better place for a fledgling than a life of banishment. I knew as well that Dahl would see that Tick was cared for.”