Kingdom of the Golden Dragon (Memories of the Eagle and the Jaguar #2)(7)

The witch remembered having seen the gods one other time in her life, gods like Tensing and Dil Bahadur, who had come to the valley looking for plants. In exchange for the herbs and seeds they took away, they had left the Yetis valuable knowledge that greatly improved their lives. They had taught them to domesticate the chegnos and cook their meat, although now they seldom had energy enough to strike stones and make a fire. Any game they could catch they ate raw and, if they were starving, as a last resort they killed chegnos or ate the corpses of other Yetis. The lamas had also taught them to identify themselves by name. Grr-ympr meant "wise woman" in the Yeti tongue.

It had been a very long time since any god appeared in the valley, Grr-ympr informed them telepathically. Tensing calculated that for at least half a century, since China invaded Tibet, no expedition had come to look for medicinal plants. Now the Yetis were not living as long, and no one except the ancient sorceress had seen humans, but the legend of the enlightened lamas existed in their collective memory.





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Tensing was seated in a cave larger than the others, the only one he could crawl into, a place undoubtedly used to hold something like a tribal council. Dil Bahadur and Grr-ympr sat on either side of the lama, and gradually the other Yetis arrived, some so weak they could barely drag themselves across the ground. The ones that had met them with threatening stones and clubs were the warriors of that pathetic group. They stayed outside to stand guard, never for an instant putting down their weapons.

One by one the Yetis filed in, some twenty in total, not counting the dozen warriors. They were nearly all females, and, to judge by their hide and teeth, they seemed young, but very ill. Tensing examined each one, treating them with great respect in order not to frighten them. The last five were carrying babies, the tribe's only surviving offspring. They did not have the repugnant appearance of the adults; they looked like little, white, loose-jointed monkeys. They were limp; they couldn't hold up their heads or move their limbs; their eyes were shut tight and they were barely breathing.

Moved, Dil Bahadur saw that these creatures loved their children as much as any other mother. They held their babies in their arms tenderly, sniffed and licked them, snuggled them to their breasts to nurse them, and moaned with anguish when the infants did not react.

"It is very sad, master. They are dying," the youth observed.

"Life is filled with suffering. Our mission is to relieve it, Dil Bahadur," Tensing replied.

The light in the cave was so weak, and the odor so unbearable, that the lama motioned them all outside, where the tribe gathered again. Grr-ympr attempted a few steps of a healing dance around the sick babies, uttering chilling cries and making her bone-and-teeth necklaces clatter. The Yetis accompanied her with a chorus of moans.

Ignoring the uproar of wailing around him, Tensing bent over the children. Dil Bahadur watched his master's expression change, as it usually did when he was using his curative powers. The lama picked up one of the smallest babies, which fit comfortably in the palm of his hand, and examined it intently. Then he approached one of the mothers, making friendly gestures to calm her, and studied a few drops of her milk.

"What is happening to the children?" the prince asked.

"Possibly they are dying of hunger," said Tensing.

"Hunger? Their mothers aren't feeding them?"

Tensing pointed out that the Yetis' milk was a yellow, transparent liquid. Then he called the warriors, who did not want to respond until Grr-ympr grunted an order, and the lama examined them as well, paying particular attention to their purple tongues. The only one whose tongue was not that color was the ancient Grr-ympr. Her mouth was a dark, evil-smelling pit that did not invite close inspection, but Tensing was not a man to back away from unpleasantness.

"All the Yetis are undernourished except for Grr-ympr, whose only symptoms are those of advanced age. I calculate that she must be a hundred," the lama concluded.

"What has changed in the valley? Why don't they have enough food?" the prince asked.

"Perhaps they have food; they may simply be ill and not assimilating what they eat. The babies depend on their mother's milk, which is not rich enough to nourish them; it's like water, and that is why they are dying at the age of a few weeks or months. The adults have more resources because they eat meat and plants, but something has weakened them."

"Which is why they've been getting smaller and dying young," suggested Dil Bahadur.

"Possibly."

Dil Bahadur rolled his eyes; sometimes his master's vagueness made him crazy.

"This is a problem that has developed during the last two generations, because Grr-ympr remembers when the Yetis were as tall as she is. At this rate, they probably will disappear in a few years," said the prince.

"Possibly," the lama replied for the hundredth time; he was thinking about something else. He added, "Grr-ympr also could remember when they had moved to this valley. That may mean that there is something harmful here, something that is destroying the Yetis."

"That must be it! Can we save them, master?"

"Perhaps…"

The monk closed his eyes and prayed for a few minutes, asking for inspiration to resolve the problem and for humility to understand that the result was not in his hands. He would do the best he could, but he could not control life or death.