Yeti

by Richard Edde

  “The animal obviously had been dead for a long time. Its head was large, the neck thick, hands and legs were long. The hair on its head was long, while other parts of its body were covered by shorter hair. Its armpits and undersurface had minimal hair. The creature’s groin, armpits, and other similar places had a dried up leathery look. Sections of its hair were separated from the body and had been scattered by the wind. There were no implements found nearby that people use, like tools or utensils.

  “When the old man saw the corpse was neither human nor animal, but nonetheless terrible, he thought about devils and malicious ghosts. He became so frightened that he did not tell either his wife or children. Due to his shock and fear, the time and other details of the corpse became firmly fixed in his memory.

  “Years later, the old man, along with his close friend and some villagers, returned to the place, but found no remnants of the dead creature. The landscape had changed and everything looked different.

  “Eventually, the old man, once again with help of his friend, was able to locate the site. They searched for days but never found its body but they did find the skull near the location of the man’s original sighting. The corpse got carried away, or eaten, by predators. So they found only the skull. The old man brought it here.”

  “I see,” Harry said. “That is a different story that the one Jing told us. Why the discrepancy, I wonder?”

  “I have heard many tales of this skull,” Zhing said, “all of them wild and untrue.”

  “The eye sockets are smaller than Neanderthals as well, Harry,” Dixie said.

  “Well, the skull is definitely not a Neanderthal, that’s for sure. It is equally not modern human, either.”

  “What about early hominoid, like an ape or other primate?” Li said.

  “No, the cranial capacity is too large. Nothing we have seen has a cranial capacity as large as this skull.”

  Zhing tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “Doctor,” he said, “people believe it is from a Yeti. I can understand that you don’t believe it is, but the people who live up here know it is a Yeti. They have seen them or at least glimpses of them.”

  “But there has never been an actual corpse or skeleton uncovered, no bones. Isn’t that right, abbot Zhing?”

  “What you hold in your hand is the evidence you seek, Doctor. I, myself, have not made up my mind, one way or the other.”

  “If what you say is true, abbot Zhing, then you owe it to the scientific community to allow scholars a chance to examine it and run tests. It is the only way to verify whether this tale is true or not. It could provide a giant leap forward in our understanding of human evolution.”

  “But, Doctor, there are a lot of people who do not believe in evolution, who do not wish for these tests to be done.” The abbot frowned as he spoke.

  “It is not a question of belief, sir,” Harry said. “Evolution is the scientific community’s best explanation as to how modern humans got to be on this planet. Whether you believe or not does not change the scientific facts. You can choose to believe the Earth is flat, if you so desire, but that does not change the fact that it is actually round. This is potentially a great discovery, abbot Zhing. You owe it to the world and the scientific community to allow more complete studies of it.”

  “I am sorry, Doctor, but you said you only wished to examine the skull. I have accommodated your request. Anything more is out of the question.”

  Zhing took the skull from Harry, replaced it in the canvas bag, then returned it to the small metal cabinet. He led the group back through the dark stairwell to the temple room where they gathered around the abbot.

  “We thank you for your hospitality, abbot Zhing,” Harry said. “I did not mean to offend you by my little speech back there. We will be returning to our research site as soon as we can gather our belongings. Thank you for allowing us to view the skull.”

  Back in the dormitory, as Harry, Dixie, Li, and Jing began to put their bags together, they talked in Harry’s room.

  “Well, the thing is definitely not human, not Neanderthal,” Dixie said.

  “What is it, Dr. Olson?” Jing asked. “Is it possible it is a Yeti?”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea,” Harry said. “I have never seen anything like it. The evolution of the genus Homo is an important transition in hominid development. Early hominids, including the Australopiths, have traits that distinguish them clearly from other apes and make them much more like us. These traits are not only anatomical but behavioral and ecological as well. Walking on two legs, bigger brains, use of complex tools, use of fire, all make these hominids different.”

  “And now today we see a hominid skull markedly larger than any uncovered to date. Right?” Dixie’s eyes were wide and she gestured with a hand for emphasis. “These monks don’t realize it, but they are sitting on something that could revolutionize our thinking about human evolution.”

  “Right,” Harry said. “Neanderthals had larger brains than modern humans--our brains actually shrank about twenty percent. But this skull is way larger than Neanderthal. So what is it? I just don’t know. It is too bad I could not convince the abbot to allow scientists to examine it more completely. “

  “The monks have an answer to your question,” Jing said. “It is from a Yeti.”

  Chapter 16

  Sitting in his office at the National Police Agency of Mongolia, Colonel Yuli Bronislav looked out his window over the street below the Parliament Building. Drivers in Ulaanbaatar never paid any attention to the simple traffic rules in Mongolia’s capital. Ulaanbaatar had a long cultural history, but only now was undergoing an industrial revolution. He thought it was one of the most drab looking cities on the face of the planet--a travesty, really, considering it was the capital of one the most beautiful and hospitable countries on Earth. Still, as a traditionalist, he loved his capital. He understood it was not an Asian beauty, but was aware of the city’s history, culture and numerous struggles. The city was a cauldron of concrete and dirt. New buildings, thrown up on any available patch of ground, crowded boulevards where Humvees battled Land Cruisers and yellow taxis for right of way. On the high street, tourists and new-moneyed Mongols hunted for bargains in European-fashioned shops and Mongolian cashmere boutiques.

  Between these chaotic scenes were islands of serenity--quiet monastery courtyards, public squares, and the odd beer patio. The river, the Tuul Gol, offered a cool respite to the south, while the four holy mountains surrounding the city provided its backdrop. Ever-expanding yurt suburbs still surrounded the city, offering a glimpse back to before Soviet urban planning.

  Bronislav lit a cigarette and studied the alert just received from INTERPOL over the I-24/7 global police communication system. Also, he held the teletype from the General Customs Office and wondered if they were related. Four Americans recently passed through customs and were possibly involved in a kidnapping and assault on a college professor in the United States. The report coincided with a notice fresh on his desk of Americans possibly involved in unknown crimes in Mongolia at an anthropological research site near the Altai Mountains. A local Mongolian had called in a report of four men brandishing weapons, threatening the workers, and asking about the expedition leader, a Dr. Olson. The local thought they were Americans. Bronislav snubbed out the cigarette and pushed the intercom.

  “Tell Captain Stepan to come in,” he said to a female voice.

  A knock on the door, ten minutes later, announced Captain Semyon Stepan who took the chair offered by Bronislav.

  The captain was a short, wiry man with a pencil-thin mustache. He had deep-set eyes and a receding hairline, which gave him a certain distinction for his age of thirty-two years.

  “Read this, Semyon,” the colonel said, handing the papers to his captain.

  Stepan took the alerts and studied them for a few minutes. “This Benjamin Doyle, is he the only name we have?”

  “Apparently, Semyon. This American professor, who someone abducted, claims that the rese
arch team here in our country has uncovered some skeletal remains of possible scientific significance. This Doyle character was involved in negotiations of an American company with the Saudis for a prehistoric skeleton. Doyle might be connected to confronting the team doing research here.”

  “This professor thinks this Doyle might be here in Mongolia?”

  “The professor did not know the man’s name. In fact, he could not identify his captors. A police sergeant in San Francisco did the legwork to get this information on Doyle. His company, BioGen, has had some pretty shady dealings in the past.”

  “Nothing more to go on, sir?”

  “Not really. The research site is southwest of Kastum. It’s a large affair so it shouldn’t be hard to find. Doyle and three other men passed through customs four days ago.”

  “Nothing unusual with their passports, I take it?”

  “No.”

  “You have orders, Colonel?”

  Bronislav lit a cigarette and blew smoke toward the window behind him. “Well, this may not amount to much, Semyon, but then again, one never knows. I want you to take a small cadre to this research site and find out what is going on. I’m choosing you because you speak English extremely well and are proficient in these exercises. If everything is on the up and up, then report back to me and return, but if anything is suspicious, then I want you to check it out. If you should stumble upon these men, bring them to me and we will sort it all out after you get back. The American government can’t squawk too loudly since INTERPOL got us involved.”

  “What if they resist, sir?”

  “I want you to be prepared for that eventuality, Captain,” Bronislav said.

  “Will do, Colonel.”

  “And, Semyon, be careful. Take enough men and weapons with you.”

  ***

  Zhing had petitioned Harry to take one of the novice monks with him on his return trek, as the young man no longer wished to be a part of the monastery. At dawn, the group began their descent down the mountain back to the expedition site. From there, the former monk would make his own way to Kastum to catch the train. A dull gray sky, billowing ominous dark clouds, greeted them and a brisk wind stung Harry’s face as he struggled to keep a comfortable seat in his saddle. The horses were skittish from two days of rest and forged ahead against their reins. Harry brought up the rear of the column which was led by Jing.

  By noon, the weather turned worse with sleet pelting their eyes and ears. Soon after a hurried lunch of jerky and tea, a light snowfall began, forcing them to break out their parkas to shield themselves from the large flakes. By the middle of the afternoon, the snow was coming down so heavily that Jing called a halt to the day’s trekking. Harry and Li built a makeshift lean-to using a canvas tarp while Dixie and the monk got a fire going in Jing’s portable stove.

  Huddling with the others in the lean-to in front of the stove with a mug of steaming hot tea improved Harry’s spirit. Jing mentioned that, at the high elevations, early freak snowstorms were possible, and the group watched the snowfall continue into the evening. Reclining around the stove however, they remained warm and dry. As daylight faded, Jing put some dried vegetables into the pot of boiling water and in fifteen minutes, they were eating soup. After a mug of tea and one of soup, Harry was satisfied and stretched out, his boots facing the fire. The wind quieted but the snowfall continued, building tall drifts along the rock ridge that lined the trail. Tired, but warm, he found himself drifting in a dark abyss.

  Once again, he was with Dixie in her room at the monastery. He kissed her. She lay back on the small cot and took him in her arms. He put his head on her chest, while she stroked his temple. She smelled of roses and lavender. His brother did not matter. Work no longer mattered. Only the touch of Dixie’s soft caress mattered. She held him there all night and the next morning they were in San Francisco at her parent’s home. Her father was dressed in a suit and smiled at him. He shook his hand and welcomed him into the family. He told them he loved them both. But Harry could not remember marrying Dixie. It was all mixed up.

  They drove into Napa Valley to a small farm where Harry grew grapes. He was building a winery. Professor Kesler, who was now head of his vineyards, welcomed them and showed them into a large stucco house filled with servants. His father labored in the field while his mother presided over the household.

  Harry and Dixie strolled the vineyard each evening at sunset, basking in each other’s company and the beautiful rolling hills covered with grapes. Dixie stooped, picked up a handful of soil, and brought it to his nose where he breathed in its rich and fragrant aroma. It was going to be a good year for the grapes.

  When Harry awoke, the snow had stopped and the sun was peaking over the eastern horizon. Everyone was still asleep so he rolled out of the lean-to and stirred the ashes in the stove. A small flame flickered. He placed another camel patty in it and went to check on the animals. Snow blanketed the ground and his boots made a soft crunching sound as he walked.

  The horses were grazing on some grass they had found so he returned to the lean-to. He counted three sleeping bodies, the novice monk not there.

  Must be using the bathroom.

  Harry started to make tea when Jing awoke and took over the job.

  “I’ll go find our monk friend, Jing, if you’ll wake the others,” Harry said.

  Jing nodded and Harry left to scout the camp’s perimeter. Six inches of snow covered the ground, which clung to his boots as he walked to the rear of the lean-to. Footprints led away from the shelter then continued into some low-lying brush. After about fifty feet, the footprints stopped and the snow was trampled down in a large circle. Then, leading away from the trampled area, another set of footprints headed off into the distance.

  Harry kneeled to get a closer look at the prints. Strange, he thought. The footprints leading away from the trampled area were not the same as those going into the brush. These were much larger and were barefooted.

  Much larger. Barefooted.

  What he saw didn’t make sense. The footprints from the lean-to to the brush had to belong to the monk, but these--what were these? To whom did they belong?

  Harry followed the larger prints for a short distance but then stopped and returned to camp. Dixie and Li were up and sipping tea.

  “Our monk friend has disappeared,” Harry said.

  “What?” a startled Dixie and Li said in unison.

  Jing looked up from her stove, eyes wide.

  “He’s gone. Tracks leading back that way,” Harry said, pointing in the general direction. “But there’s more. I think there was some sort of scuffle or fight because something messed up the snow in a spot back there. Then another set of footprints lead away, going in the same direction. But those prints are different. Very different.”

  “How so?” Li asked.

  “Come and see for yourselves.”

  Harry led the group to the rear of the shelter and the footprints. When they arrived at the spot that was all trampled down Harry pointed out the new footprints.

  “Wow,” Dixie said. “Look at those, Li.”

  Li and Jing moved for a closer look. Jing’s face had a look of surprise and horror. “I have seen footprints like these before. In pictures,” she said.

  Harry, Dixie, and Li all looked at Jing.

  “It is - the Yeti,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” said Dixie, shaking her head as if not believing what she had heard.

  “Yes, Dixie, I am sure. Footprints such as these are famous in this part of Asia. Photographs of them have appeared in magazines and newspapers for decades.”

  Harry bent over the footprints and measured them using his own foot as a measuring tool. When finished he rejoined the group. “Bigger than any known primate or hominid. Probably stands nine or ten feet tall.”

  “Are you serious?” said Li. “Where would it have come from?”

  Jing frowned. “I have heard my grandfather say that they live in the high mountains and come down to
the lower elevations in search of food.”

  “They? You said they? Jing, that is all just talk, speculation,” Harry said.

  “Maybe just talk, maybe not.”

  “Come on, Jing. I, for one, don’t believe that a Mongolian wild man appeared out of nowhere and dragged our monk to God-knows-where. If you choose to believe these wild tales, please keep them to yourself. We need to search this area thoroughly for our monk. He might be lying dead or injured around here. If for some reason he’s not around here, I think we should follow these footprints and see where they lead. Maybe find him. We can’t just leave him out here. If you all can start looking, I’m going to try and raise the professor on the satellite phone.”

  They nodded and fanned out over the area surrounding the footprints, leaving Harry to return to the lean-to. Soon the group was back at the shelter and Harry was sitting, phone in hand.

  “Able to reach him?” Dixie said as she poured herself another mug of tea.

  “Yes, he was at dinner with some cryptozoologist he had located in the Bay area. I brought him up to date with what’s happening here.”

  “Tell him about the events of this morning, the missing monk?” Dixie said.

  “No. He would have worried himself sick. You all find anything?”

  “Just this,” she said, producing a blue parka. “I believe it belonged to the monk.”

  “Yes, it did,” Harry said. “Jing, I’m sorry for my outburst earlier. I’m just a little stressed, I guess.”

  “No problem, Dr. Harry,” Jing said without meeting his gaze. “I understand.”

  “So, what’s next, boss?” Li asked. “You still think we should follow these footprints? No telling where they will lead.”