“Yes, I have seen some very clever animals, some able to trick you into believing they’ve disappeared completely. But they are real animals, not imaginary creatures.”
Conrad downed his brandy in one, beckoned Dougie and Fraser to do the same and then he hastily poured three more glasses of brandy. His anger seemed to have calmed. He slowly got up out of this chair and reached for a book nestled in the many on a large bookcase that took up almost an entire wall of the cabin. He threw the book onto the table. Both Dougie and Fraser could see the large title of what was quite a thin book, it simply said “The Yeti -- the truth.”
Conrad sat back down, took a big swig of brandy and said, “It’s all in there, you can read it for yourself.”
Fraser piped up. “Dougie doesn’t really read books,” he said in a matter-of-fact way.
“Quiet, Fraser!” snapped Dougie, in his full booming voice. Even Conrad leant back a bit in his chair.
Dougie took the book and started to flick through the pages. There were a few pictures of large ape-like animals. “OK,” he said, “tell me more.”
Conrad was ready to tell the full story, with as much drama and theatre as he could muster. The audience of two looked ready. He began, but not with ‘once-upon-a-time.’ His voice had the tone of mystery and suspense as he spoke.
“The book was written over 100 years ago by a young shepherd from Tibet. He lived in the Tibetan mountains, where he herded goats. He wasn’t a very good shepherd, he lost lots of goats and his young family always seemed to be wanting for decent food and clothes and proper shelter.”
“That’s a shame,” said Fraser, in a get-on-with-it sort of tone. Conrad ignored the remark and continued, his voice not much above a whisper, but every word was clear and precise.
“However, the shepherd was sure that his goats were being taken and one night he decided to stay on the mountainside and keep watch, all night. He stayed as alert as he could, peering into the darkness. He’d placed a little oil lamp next to him, turned right down to give the very faintest of light.
“Just before sunrise one of the goats cried out. The shepherd quickly turned up the lamp and before him he saw the most terrifying of sights; a huge ape-like creature, a Yeti. It had snatched a goat and was striding away with it. The brave shepherd screamed out and gave chase.
“Then to his surprise and shock, the Yeti dropped the goat and grabbed the shepherd. Luckily for him he was able to wriggle free and make a getaway. Despite the massive scratch marks on his arm, no one believed his story. He vowed to find the Yeti and prove everyone wrong. Years passed and after many attempts he could find no further trace of the Yeti, nothing.
“Then one day completely unannounced an American journalist turned up at the shepherd’s home. He too had encountered a strange creature in the Rocky Mountains of North America while on a camping trip. He heard tales about the shepherd and after they had swapped stories, they were convinced they had both seen the same creature.
“From then on the two men joined forces to try and discover the true story of the Yeti. They journeyed to the most remote mountainous regions of the world. They recorded several sightings and took those pictures you see in that book. They also claimed that they once stumbled across a Yeti’s cave.
“However, they never captured a Yeti, nor get any real evidence of the Yeti’s existence, other than those fuzzy pictures. You may not be surprised to hear gentlemen, that the pictures were dismissed as fakes.”
Dougie scanned the pictures in the book again, they were poor images and he too could see why they might be considered as fake. A hand drawn picture caught his eye; under it was the caption, ‘a Yeti cave’. It was not an especially good drawing, but his attention was drawn to something in the picture. It looked like a thick wooden block with what seemed to be five eggs, or balls of some type, spaced out evenly along the top of the block. How strange, he thought, they seemed to have a prominence in the picture, but what could they be?
Conrad had one more go at convincing Dougie. He poured more brandy and pointed to the window and said, “Mr McQueen, out there is a creature, I’ve seen it and each time I have it’s been a full moon and each time at the same spot. It’s a full moon tomorrow night; I’ll take you to the spot, what have you got to lose?”
Fraser it seems had been listening intently to Conrad. He turned to Dougie and said,
“Dougie, you know in America there have been sightings of these huge beasts, they call them ‘Big-foot’ on account of the massive footprints that have been found. In Nepal they call the beasts the ‘Abominable Snowmen’. There’s been many sightings over hundreds of years. Perhaps we should keep an open mind.”
The look of surprise on Dougie’s face at Fraser’s buy-in to the story was some picture itself. He couldn’t believe that his usually sceptical companion was actually being taken in.
“OK,” said Dougie, “you’re right, what have we got to lose? We’ll stake out the spot tomorrow night, just before nightfall.”
“I’ll bring flares,” said Fraser, clearly starting to get excited about the whole Yeti thing.
11
Paris’s mum looked across the kitchen table at the cornflakes packet perched on the edge and whacked it. “I really do hate cornflakes,” she shouted, as they toppled onto the floor and hundreds of flakes spilled out in a fan across the pristine white floor tiles.
She was in a bit of a state and hadn’t slept much since returning home. The restriction of her broken arm was annoying, made worse by the fact that the knitting needle she’d used to scratch an itch earlier had disappeared under the plaster cast. Lost.
She had blamed herself for Paris’s disappearance. If only she had let Paris take her phone to Switzerland, she may have been able to call for help.
Dad had immersed himself in work and Albie was still cape-less. He told his mum that Paris’s disappearance had had an effect on him like Kryptonite; the green stuff that took away Superman’s powers. The Palmer household was as sad as any household could be and they were probably going to be that way for a very long time.
The doorbell rang as mum was sweeping up the cornflakes. She walked slowly to the door. If it was the media, she had a jug of water ready by the door to pour over their heads. If it was a friend, she could at least cry her eyes out as they listened to how guilty she felt about Paris’s phone.
At the door were Paris’s four friends, Skyla, Molly, Stacy and Beth. They had brought their old school shirts that Paris had drawn on, thinking the family might want them, as they were her most recent masterpieces. Toby Smith was there too. He’d made another and very impressive daisy chain. He asked if the chain could be placed in Paris’s bedroom, ready for when she came home.
They were invited in immediately. Toby was also holding a huge box of superhero bits and pieces. There were models of Batman, Superman, Ironman, the bat mobile and many others. There were also superhero comics, superhero costumes, plus DVDs of pretty much every superhero film ever made.
The kitchen became very busy; Paris’s mum laid out drinks and snacks on the kitchen table. The four girls settled in and in no time were talking fondly of Paris, the things they did together and the many laughs they shared.
Toby sat down on the sofa in the corner of the kitchen with Albie. They explored the box of superhero paraphernalia, playing out scenes with the models and getting into their own superhero world. It wasn’t long before the two boys were saving the world, big time.
Albie enjoyed himself for the first time since the family returned home. So much, that he went to get his red cape and on it went. His mum was getting tearful, as were the four girls. There was a group hug. Mum was so grateful for the noise of laughter and fun in the house, it was well needed for everyone.
The girls went upstairs to Paris’s bedroom; they wanted another look at her paintings. They could each pick a painting to have as a souvenir. Toby’s daisy chain took prime spot on the dressing table; this chain was made of fully bloomed daisies, woven s
o carefully together. The girls left their art-laden shirts in a bundle on the beanbag at the end of Paris’s bed.
Toby promised to come back at the weekend and take Albie to see the latest Captain America movie at the cinema, if Albie promised to keep wearing his cape and practise his superhero skills.
After the friends left, Albie carried on wearing his cape. He had heard somewhere that superheroes can use their mind to communicate with people anywhere in the world. He rifled through the comics left by Toby and found the story he was looking for.
He was right. The story was about Superman using his ‘telepathy’, that was the word, to find people anywhere in the world. It needed concentration to do it properly, but Albie knew he could concentrate hard. Once, when he was younger, he managed to concentrate very hard throughout a whole episode of Peppa Pig.
Off he went to start telepathy training. If he could master this skill, he could find Paris wherever she was, just by thinking about her. He made his way to Paris’s room, deciding if he could hold one of her teddies it would help the telepathy. She also had that big mirror. He could use it to check he was in the right pose, which was crossed legged on the floor; hands on his head and eyes fully closed.
Albie noticed the crack in the mirror. He remembered he had made that when he sneaked in to check his ‘ready-to-fly’ pose and hit the mirror with his foot, cracking it. He promised he would confess to this superhero crime when Paris returned home.
Albie got himself into position and started to concentrate. He was sure he was picking up an image of Paris in his head; she was smiling.
12
Back at the cave, Paris was still getting used to the fact that she could now predict cards. That was all good, but she found herself thinking more and more about her family. She missed them terribly.
Titus noticed Paris had become quieter, her face had changed; she was not showing her teeth in a friendly way anymore. He wasn’t good at reading humans’ expressions, but he was starting to understand what a sad one looked like.
He came and sat next to Paris. “I think you’re ready to go home tomorrow.”
Paris looked at him. “The pain in my side has gone, I think I’m OK now.”
“Good,” said Titus, “I’ll take you tomorrow, but now I want to take you for a stroll outside, just to make sure you’re ready.”
“Let’s do that,” said Paris. She liked the idea of testing how well she could move, and take in the fresh air. They emerged from the cave; it would have been an odd sight if someone had been passing by. Titus towered above Paris, who had wrapped her blanket around her like a cloak.
It was getting dark now, a very calm evening, lit by a full moon. There had been fresh snow during the day. It settled as an ultra fine powder, and as they ploughed through it a white cloud swirled behind them.
The evening was so calm, no wind and the full moon in the clear sky gave a silver tinge to everything. They walked straight ahead into the forest of pine trees. As they walked Paris wanted to know more about Titus. Was he the only one of his kind? How old was he? Where did he come from? How did he end up on his own?
They chatted as they kicked their way through the snow. Paris felt good. She was walking well and the pain in her side was gone completely. The air was so still and with no other sounds for miles around, their voices were amplified.
Titus explained that as far as he knew he was the last of his kind, although he never stopped searching for others. He didn’t know what ‘how old’ meant, all he could say to Paris was that he had seen many, many winters and summers.
He did remember the time before humans had machines that flew in the sky and when they rode horses to move at speed, instead of the roaring metal boxes on wheels that they used today. As well as being an extraordinary fair age, Paris sensed Titus was not a fan of humans. She understood why.
He told her that humans had taken more and more of the forests and mountains and destroyed the homes of so many creatures. There was little room now for the likes of him and the wealth of creatures that lived in the wilderness.
A long time ago man had began to invade the land of his people. The Yetis tried to keep out of man’s way, hoping he would move on. But that didn’t happen and the Yetis knew that if man discovered them that they would be enslaved, like their close relatives, the apes. Gradually over many years of continuing to hide and escape from man, the Yetis began to give up; their numbers dwindled and they became more and more isolated.
Paris felt sad and ashamed. This wonderful creature had saved her, so kind and gentle for something so gigantic, and yet her fellow humans, she was sure, would lock him in a zoo and treat him like a wild animal, should they capture him.
They carried on walking in silence for a little while, both pondering on their conversation. Paris noticed sets of beady eyes peering from the forest ahead.
“Don’t worry,” said Titus, “the wolves won’t dare come anywhere near us.”
Then Titus stopped. He pointed ahead. “Look,” he said, “I wanted to show you this before you leave for home.”
13
Up ahead was a frozen lake nestled in a large clearing, surrounded by tall pines. There was a large herd of reindeer by the edge. To Paris’s surprise she also saw a gathering of mountain hares, hundreds of them. There were also dozens of mountain sheep, squirrels, voles and hundreds of tiny field mice, weaving between the larger animals. It was an extraordinary gathering of animals, all in their groups, but also all together.
“What’s going on?” whispered Paris, “So many animals.”
“It’s the gathering,” said Titus, “The mountain animals coming together, to be together. It’s been happening longer than I can remember.”
Paris just took in the scene, the lake was a smooth almost perfect circle of ice; all around its edge was a thick border of tiny flowers, white snowdrops.
A number of the mountain hares were sliding across the ice, they were playing. There was a group of about twenty of the little field mice, lining up to have a race across the ice. It was a magical sight. Titus could see that Paris was simply astounded, “Let’s try it,” he said, dropping onto his bottom on the ice and scooting across it, spinning as he went. Paris spread her blanket on the ice and dived onto it. She sped along, almost making it to the other side of the lake.
Other animals joined in, spinning across the ice, some just watched, while others cuddled up to each other, enjoying the moment. Titus got to his feet and Paris slid over to give him a hug. She was thinking she would miss him when it was time to leave.
Suddenly, there was a whooshing sound and a thud as something hit a nearby tree. It happened again and Paris saw something silver with a red tail embedded in the bark of the tree. Then the noise again, but this time something hit Titus and he groaned, and in an instant something hit him again. He fell to his knees.
Paris looked terrified; confused as to what was going on. Then from across the lake there was a shout. Dougie McQueen and Fraser were charging towards them. Dougie was pointing his rifle, aiming at Titus and continuing to fire as he dashed across the lake.
Luckily for Titus, Dougie was missing the target as he slipped and slid. Paris grabbed Titus and tried to pull him up, but there was no chance of that. In the meantime all the animals had scattered in panic.
Dougie and Fraser continued their charge, but then a great cracking sound filled the night air. It was so loud that Paris covered her ears. The ice was breaking and before they could do anything, it shattered quickly underneath Dougie and Fraser’s feet.
They plunged into the water and disappeared in an instant. Suddenly it was quiet again, just ripples and bubbles where Dougie and Fraser had disappeared into the blackness of the cold water underneath the ice.
Titus sat up holding his head, he felt dizzy; the darts were making him drowsy. He looked up at Paris and beckoned her to the edge of the lake, “Stay there!” he ordered.
He staggered across the lake to the now gaping hole in the ice, and pe
ered into the blackness of the freezing cold water, seeing nothing. Then suddenly without hesitation Titus leapt into the water and disappeared too.
Paris screamed. She wanted to dash over, but was sensible enough not to venture onto the fast cracking ice. Again it went quiet, not a sound, the water became still and Paris felt very alone.
Then there was a huge splash; a wall of water surged into the air like a fountain, out of it sprang Titus. In each of his great hands he was holding on clumsily to something – Dougie in one hand and Fraser in the other!
Paris gasped as she watched Titus drag both men to the bank of the lake. He laid them face down and began to gently massage their backs. They started to cough up water, spluttered and took huge gulps of air.
Dougie caught a brief glimpse of Titus’s face in the moonlight, and for a moment their eyes met. Titus walked back to Paris, satisfied the two men were now safe.
“We must go,” he said taking her hand, “you leave for home in the morning.”
14
Paris slept deeply that night. When they got back to the cave they were exhausted, not least Titus who somehow had managed to shake off the effects of the two tranquilliser darts and rescue his pursuers.
Before Paris drifted off she took out her little silver sketchbook and started to draw. She wanted to capture the scene at the frozen lake while it was fresh in her mind. When she finished, satisfied she had managed to capture images of every animal there that evening, she began to wonder how Titus planned to get her home. He told her he would get her back to England, but how?
There was a faint light coming from the mouth of the cave when they woke. Titus sprang to his feet, seeing Paris stirring. “Let’s eat,” he announced, “and plan our journey.” Paris stoked the fire on this morning; she thought Titus deserved a rest. There were eggs in the larder and she was going to cook them for breakfast. She looked over to Titus who was having a huge stretch, “So how will we get me home?” There was an element of doubt in her tone of voice.
The Artist and The Yeti Page 4
