The International Yeti Collective

by Paul Mason

  “So that’s why you’re always on my case,” said Tick.

  Dahl grunted.

  “And you turned out well for it,” said Jiffi.

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Dahl muttered.

  Plumm laughed. Then all of a sudden they were all laughing, their chortles echoing down the tunnel.

  “Well, I think you made the right choice,” said Tick, his laughter dropping away. “Both times. I don’t care what the rules or the elders say.”

  Jiffi stopped paddling and wiped her eyes. “Well then, that’s all that matters. Now perhaps we should send Flittermouse to fly on ahead. Let the Makimaki know we’re coming?”

  “Good idea,” said Tick. He woke up the tiny bat and spoke to her. Flittermouse peeped that she understood. Then she flew off into the darkness, leaving the boat far behind.

  The first sign of the Makimaki wasn’t a Collective symbol, or a watching bat, but a song that floated through the darkness like dandelion fluff. It was the most tender and beautiful yodelling Tick had ever heard. The yeti lifted their paddles out of the water and just listened.

  There is but one Earth, from which all things flow,

  From glittering sea to freezing snow,

  From mountain high to dark caves below,

  Oh, there is but one Earth, from which all things flow.

  A web carries all, like a net made of vine,

  The shrimp, the ray, the shark combine.

  Flower’s nectar, bird beats her wings,

  But pluck the bloom, does she still sing?

  Sunshine, rain, wind, from which all things flow,

  There is but one Earth, this much I know…

  The ocean tides flow constant and faithful,

  Waters of life – learn to be grateful.

  Waste in the sea swirls like a cloak,

  Wraps round the turtle, making her choke.

  Sunshine, rain, wind, from which all things flow,

  There is but one Earth, this much I know…

  When the last tree in the forest is turned into wood,

  And the fish that swim are gone for good,

  When the rivers turn sour like dark sewer ditches,

  Will humans at last learn that they can’t eat riches?

  Sunshine, rain, wind, from which all things flow,

  There is but one Earth, this much I know…

  “I think we’ve arrived!” said Jiffi.

  The Makimaki chorus gathered in a large cave, their fur blending in with the dark stone walls that rose up high. Hollowed-out gourds kept up a gentle beat, long-necked instruments strung with hair thrummed and twanged, while the leader waved his long arms up and down like an ocean swell. At the sight of the boat approaching, he dropped his hands and the music stopped.

  The Makimaki clustered round the edges of the cavern, all eyes on the approaching boat, the younglings curious and whispering. On first impression, the Makimaki weren’t very different from Mountain Yeti, Tick noticed. Their fur had a bit more red in it, their arms were longer – hanging down right to their knees – and their fingers were longer too, like thick twigs off a tree. Dahl guided the boat to the landing, and two Makimaki rushed over and tied it up.

  The yeti climbed out of the boat as the Makimaki elders came forward to greet them.

  “Welcome, O cousins from the mountains. If you kick a stone in anger, you hurt only your own foot,” declared the silverback, leaning on her staff. “I am Dunkk. Are you Dahl, he who smells the fiercest?”

  “It is I,” replied Dahl. “The sun which melts wax also hardens the clay.” He introduced himself and the others.

  “Just as our sett is our home, so it is yours. Hear me as I speak.” Dunkk touched her hand to her chest and then her head. Jiffi, Tick and Plumm returned the salute.

  “The song of the Makimaki is indeed sweet,” said Dahl, addressing the cavern. “It allowed us to forget for a moment the task that lies ahead.”

  “You are too kind, dear cousin,” said Songg, the leader of the choir. He gave a signal to the Makimaki chorus, and they filed down the tunnel towards the sett.

  “We have heard of your quest from the messengers of the Mande Barung, and your bat was most helpful too,” said Dunkk.

  Now Flittermouse dropped down from above, swooping round the gathering. Tick stretched out his arm as a perch, and Flittermouse landed, chirping and squeaking.

  “Hello, Flittermouse,” Tick said, and tickled the bat underneath her chin.

  “Now join us at our table – there is much to discuss.” Dunkk took Jiffi and Dahl by the arm. “I’m afraid things do not look good.”

  The cavern was packed. At the head table sat Dunkk, Songg and the Council Elders alongside their guests. Tick noticed that every bench in the cavern was full, the Makimaki casting polite but curious looks at their guests while they munched on cicada pie with snail gravy.

  With a twinge, Tick remembered the last time he had sat in such a full meeting hall, in their own sett. The time they drew the stalks. If only his stalk hadn’t been chosen. If only he’d listened.

  Dunkk pushed her plate to the side, ready to talk. She examined the piece of tree bark that Dahl had given her. “Well, you have come to the right place,” said Dunkk. “The human sett they call Moss Gully isn’t far. Since word came by bat from Mande Barung, we’ve been keeping an eye on their dwellings, hoping for sight of your slabs. Sweet fungus, how we’ve hoped for something.”

  “My scouts and I have spent many moons on the edge of the forest,” added Songg.

  “And?” asked Dahl.

  “Not a thing.”

  “In truth, we didn’t have much to go on,” admitted Dunkk. “But unfortunately we now have a new and bigger problem.”

  “Bigger?” asked Jiffi.

  “We fear our own sett may have been discovered by humans.”

  “How?” Tick barely had the strength to ask.

  Songg sighed. “We are not yet certain. It may be that the human youngling stumbled upon us by accident. We’re not sure she truly knows we’re here – that’s the only reason you find us still in our sett and not in our retreat.”

  “Youngling?” asked Dahl.

  “We think she rode the green beast with many circle legs, then found her way here through the trees. Our sentry observed her sitting in the bush and watching,” said Songg.

  Tick felt his heart thump. “A girl? What does she look like?”

  Songg shrugged. “A human girl. A youngling. They all look the same but she has a very small nose.”

  Tick sat bolt upright. He shoved his plate and Plumm’s to one side, clearing a space on the slab of rock.

  “Excuse you!” said Plumm.

  Tick waved her away. He bent down and felt around on the floor of the cave for a stone. Then, as the table watched, he began scribbling on the surface of the eating bench. Long hair, a slightly round face. Peering eyes. A pebble for a nose.

  Tick finished his drawing. “There.”

  “Who’s that?” asked Jiffi.

  Dahl peered over. “It’s the girl from the mountain.”

  Dunkk and Songg inspected Tick’s picture. “Yes, that’s her! The one who watches.” Songg took a deep breath.

  Tick sat back down. “Pebble Nose. Dahl is right. She was with the humans that tried to discover our sett.”

  “But how has she come here?” asked Dunkk.

  “By firebird,” answered Plumm. “She and the silverback climbed in with the slabs and flew away. We saw.”

  “And now this youngling is at our very door,” grumbled Dunkk. “I do not like this.”

  “We must abandon sett,” barked one of the elders, thumping the bench. “Give the order.”

  “Let’s not be too hasty. She hasn’t yet ventured into our cave, neither does she look dangerous,” said Songg.

  “All humans are dangerous,” said another elder. “A cobra will bite your rump whether you call it cobra, or Mr Cobra.”

  Dunkk shook her head. “That’s not e
ntirely true. What of the humans we see in these parts planting trees and caring for the forest?”

  At this, the elder just grumbled.

  Now Jiffi spoke up. “But you say this youngling comes alone, and hasn’t returned with others?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Then perhaps she doesn’t want to bring ruin to the sett – if, as you say, she even knows it’s here,” Jiffi pointed out.

  “True. At the mountain, they brought special jackals to seek us out,” Dahl agreed.

  “I wish I shared your optimism.” Dunkk let out a long breath. “Her being at your mountain and now here in our bush is all too much of a coincidence for my liking.”

  “But don’t you see? At least now we have a way of finding the slabs,” said Plumm. “We just have to follow the girl and see where she goes.”

  “Plumm is right. If we keep a lookout for her, Pebble Nose is bound to lead us to the place where they keep the carvings,” said Tick.

  Dunkk grumbled. “I don’t like it.”

  “It’s our only chance of finding them again,” Tick insisted. “Let’s hope she pays you another visit.”

  Upwind and uphill, Tick, Songg and Flittermouse sat watching in silence, eyes locked on Pebble Nose. The yeti stared as she clomped through the bush and nosed round the cave before perching in the undergrowth to spy. She was as reckless as a wild boar, thought Tick, the way she crashed around, snapping twigs and snorting and snuffling.

  It now seemed beyond doubt that she was here to find yeti, but this time her manner was different. Up in the mountains, the humans gave chase and wanted to hunt the yeti down. Here there was no thunderclap stick, and no jackals. Pebble Nose was doing her best not to intrude. Tick also remembered the way she had cared for the yak.

  But it was not something he could communicate to Songg sitting beside him. They were on super-super-secret mode. Tick pointed at Pebble Nose and drew a slab in the air. Songg understood.

  When Pebble Nose became tired of watching without reward and climbed back the way she’d come, Tick and Songg followed. They crept through the bush, arms down by their sides, hands swinging low, Flittermouse flapping high above. Songg led Tick towards the strange tracks of the green beast that wound their way back and forth down the mountainside. They stopped and waited for the creature with circle legs to come clattering along. As the beast chuntered into view below them, Tick had to admit that humans were capable of making some amazing contraptions. He didn’t care for the yellow beasts in the land of the Orang Pendek that tore through the forest, but this contraption looked like fun. He spotted Pebble Nose sitting in one of the vessels and pointed her out to Songg. Then Songg gestured at Tick to follow him down the mountainside.

  The yeti dropped on to all fours, using their knuckles for extra balance as they slipped through the forest – in and out of clusters of tree ferns. When the ground became steep, they tumbled down and shoulder-rolled, picking up speed along the forest floor, but leaving behind no sound greater than the whispering of the wind. They stopped on an overgrown outcrop that gave them a view of the human sett. Flittermouse swooped down and hung from a tree.

  When the green contraption came to rest, Tick spotted Pebble Nose getting out. Then, as she walked through the clusters of dwellings, Flittermouse followed, flying high above her head. The two yeti did their best to keep an eye on the tiny bat, tracking her from the hills above while staying in the shadows of the bush, hidden among the trees.

  At last, Flittermouse returned to her friends, peeping and squeaking that she had indeed discovered the dwelling of Pebble Nose. The bat then led them along the hills to the outskirts of the human sett, and showed them the place.

  Tick and Songg hid in the dense blades of flax and surveyed the dwelling at the base of the hill. It sat in a clearing hacked out of the bush, like a giant scab, a high barrier guarding its sides. The home had tall white walls and many openings covered with what looked like shining ice – a pool of water lay at the back.

  Flittermouse chirped and shrilled.

  “So the slabs are in the den that lies beneath the house – those openings there?” said Tick, pointing at the narrow slits at the side of the dwelling, just above the grass.

  Flittermouse squeaked. She had already flown down for a closer look.

  Songg let out a long sigh. “It’s like a fortress. I fear we will never see those slabs again, Tick.”

  Tick shook his head. “I need to get them back, Songg, even if it means breaking into that place.”

  “And what if the humans see you?” said Songg. “What if they manage to trap you – have you thought of that?” He gave a shudder.

  “I know it’s crazy, but I have to try.” Tick turned to Flittermouse. “Did you see a doorway of any kind?”

  Flittermouse said that she had – on the other side of the dwelling.

  “Let’s go back and join the others, tell them what we know, and see if we can come up with a plan,” said Tick.

  Songg snorted and headed back up the hill.

  *

  That evening, five yeti slipped through the trees under cover of darkness to return to the dwelling. Songg of the Makimaki and the four Mountain Yeti, with Flittermouse hovering close by.

  Just think, all this could be over by morning, said the idea fly in Tick’s ear.

  The plan, as much as there was one, was to approach the human dwelling from the hills. Tick, Plumm and Dahl would slip inside, find the slabs in the den below ground and haul them away while Jiffi and Songg kept a lookout from the bush. Flittermouse would act as the advance party, flying ahead to make sure the way was clear.

  The yeti waited and waited, Tick leaning into Jiffi’s arms, and, when the moon had almost reached its highest point, the little lights around the dwelling went out until the place was in almost complete darkness.

  “Let’s go,” commanded Dahl.

  Jiffi reached for Tick’s hand. “Good luck.”

  “Be safe,” said Songg, unease in his eyes.

  “Ready?” Tick asked Plumm.

  The raiding party flowed through the bush with Dahl leading the way. He paused at the end of the treeline, before wading through the long grass that led to the high walls. The Guardian dropped down to his knees, his back to the wall. The others followed. They listened for a time, but there was only the sweet chirrup of crickets. Dahl motioned to the others and reached the top of the wall. He threw his Rumble Stick over first, then pulled himself to the top and rolled over to drop down on the other side. Tick and Plumm followed. Still nothing stirred in the dwelling.

  The three yeti crept over the grass and sought shadows, Flittermouse flying ahead. Round the corner, they found stairs leading down to the doorway.

  Here they paused, listening out for any signs of the humans, before padding down the stairs. Tick reached the doorway first. He took a deep breath. This was it. Just beyond this piece of wood lay the slabs. They would be in his hands very soon, and then everything would start to be right again.

  Tick pushed against the wood. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing the darkened den – like a cave. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Tick made out what looked like some eating benches, and resting on them were the carvings. The slabs!

  With quickening breath, Tick slipped into the den, fingers already reaching out, the others close behind.

  A little red firefly winked at Tick from deep in the darkness – bright, like an ember. Then, all at once, a wailing, ear-splitting shriek screamed through the shadows. The din reached right into Tick’s chest, rattling his heart. The young yeti dropped his staff and covered his ears. There was nothing else he could do. The raiding party stared at each other in sheer panic, and then they fled up the stairs and headed for the trees, Flittermouse flapping her wings as fast as she could.

  The screeching of the alarm drove Ella from her bed. She scrambled free of the covers, heart pounding, and flicked on the light. As she opened the door, she saw Uncle Jack burst from his room in his pyjamas, a
book in his hand.

  “What’s going on?” Ella cried.

  Jack jabbed at the flashing alarm control panel on the wall of the hallway and then there was silence. “My studio!” he hissed, staring at the panel.

  “The slabs!” gasped Ella. She was trembling. Had someone come to steal them? How would anyone even know they were here?

  “Do we call the police?”

  “I need to check the basement. Stay put.”

  Jack threw his book down on the table and rushed down the stairs two, at a time. Ella hesitated for a moment but then ran down after him.

  Jack marched to the front door and slapped at a bank of switches, drenching the grounds around the house in light. He peered out into the gardens and grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door.

  “I don’t see anyone,” said Ella.

  Jack frowned at her. “I thought I told you to stay put.” He ran to the door that led down to the studio and opened it a crack. Then he shouted, “We’re coming down and we’re armed!”

  There was no response, not a sound. Jack opened the door wide and crept down the stairs, Ella behind him. But the studio was deserted and everything appeared untouched. The slabs were exactly where Dr Milligan had left them. However, the outside door was wide open. Whatever had set off the alarm was long gone.

  Jack shuffled over and locked the door. “Peeew. What is that smell?”

  Ella sniffed. She felt the stench crawl up the back of her neck, making her hair stand on end. She recognized it instantly. From the mountains and from the hollow in the bush. It was a yeti smell. Yeti had been here!

  “Possums?” she said quickly.

  Jack sniffed the air. “A fairly pungent possum.”

  “Maybe Dr Milligan left the door open and a possum came in, looking for food. Lots of possums.”

  Jack didn’t look convinced. “Could be, I suppose,” he said at last. “Nasty critters.”

  Then Ella saw a stick on the floor by Uncle Jack’s feet – a straight tree branch – and rushed over to pick it up. She felt the smooth wood in her hands, brought it up to her nose and inhaled, quickly pulling back. It was a yeti staff, she was sure of it.