Kingdom of the Golden Dragon (Memories of the Eagle and the Jaguar #2)(4)



"You see, Dil Bahadur, how sometimes calm is effective," was the lama's only comment. The prince was unable to answer because his voice had frozen in his breast.

Despite that unexpected visit, master and student decided to stay and spend the night in Chenthan Dzong, but they took the precaution of sleeping near a bonfire, and of keeping within reach a couple of lances they found among the weapons abandoned by the Tao-shu monks. The tiger did not return, but the next morning, when they continued their march, they saw its paw marks on the gleaming snow, and far away they heard its roars echoing among the peaks.





CHAPTER TWO

The Valley of the Yetis




A FEW DAYS LATER, TENSING shouted jubilantly and pointed to a narrow canyon between two vertical faces of the mountain: two black walls polished by millions of years of ice and erosion. They entered the canyon with great caution, scrambling over loose rocks and avoiding deep holes. With each step they had to test the firmness of the terrain with their poles.

Tensing threw a stone into one of the openings, and it was so deep that they never heard it hit bottom. Overhead, the sky was barely visible as a blue ribbon stretching between gleaming walls of rock. They were surprised to hear a chorus of horrifying moans.

"It is fortunate, is it not, that we do not believe in ghosts or demons," commented the lama.

"Then maybe it is my imagination that is making me hear those wails?" the prince asked, his skin prickling with fright.

"Possibly the wind is blowing through here like air blowing through a trumpet."

They had progressed a good way when they were assaulted by the stench of rotten eggs.

"Sulfur," the master explained.

"I can't breathe," said Dil Bahadur, pinching his nostrils.

"Perhaps it is best to imagine you are smelling the perfume of flowers," Tensing suggested.

"'Of all fragrances,'" the prince recited, smiling, "'the sweetest is that of virtue.'"

"Imagine, then, that this is the sweet scent of virtue," the lama replied, laughing.

The pass was approximately a mile in length, but it took them two hours to travel that distance. In some places the passage was so narrow that they had to scoot sideways between the rocks, dizzied by the thin air, but they did not hesitate, because the parchment clearly indicated that there was a way out. They saw niches dug into the walls, which contained skulls and large piles of bones, some seemingly human.

"This must be the Yetis' cemetery," Dil Bahadur had commented.

A breath of moist, warm air, like nothing they had ever felt, announced the end of the canyon.

Tensing was the first to step out, followed closely by his disciple. When Dil Bahadur saw the landscape that lay before them, he thought he must be on another planet. If he hadn't been so weighed down by bodily fatigue, and if his stomach weren't churning from the stink of the sulfur, he would have thought he had made an astral journey.

"There it is: the Valley of the Yetis," the lama announced.

Before them stretched a volcanic mesa dotted with patches of harsh gray-green vegetation: dense shrubs and giant mushrooms of various shapes and colors were growing everywhere. They saw rushing streams and bubbling pools of water, strange rock formations, and tall columns of white smoke billowing from the ground. A delicate fog floated on the air, erasing shapes in the distance and giving the valley the look of a dreamscape. The visitors felt they had left reality behind, as if they had entered another dimension. After the intense cold of traveling through the mountains for so many days, that warm vapor was a true gift to the senses despite the lingering, nauseating odor that thankfully was less intense here than in the canyon.

"In olden days, certain lamas, carefully selected for their physical endurance and spiritual fortitude, made this journey once every twenty years to collect the medicinal plants that do not grow anywhere else," Tensing explained.

He said that in 1950 Tibet had been invaded by the Chinese, who destroyed more than six thousand monasteries and shut down the rest. Most of the lamas left to live in other countries, such as India and Nepal, carrying the teachings of Buddha into exile. Instead of snuffing out Buddhism, as the invading Chinese intended, the lamas accomplished exactly the opposite: they spread it throughout the world. Even so, much of the knowledge about medicine, as well as the lamas' psychic practices, was lost.

"The plants were dried, ground, and mixed with other ingredients. One gram of those powders may be more precious than all the world's gold, Dil Bahadur," his master told him.

"We can't carry many plants. Too bad we didn't bring a yak," the youth commented.

"Possibly a yak would not willingly have crossed these mountains; I do not see a yak keeping its footing with a staff, Dil Bahadur," said the master. "We will carry what we can."

They entered the mysterious valley, and after walking for a short time they saw something that resembled skeletons. The lama informed his disciple that they were the petrified bones of animals that roamed before the universal flood. He got down on all fours and began to search the ground until he found a dark rock with red spots.

"This is dragon excrement, Dil Bahadur. It has magical properties."

"I must not believe everything I hear, is that not true, master?" the youth replied.

"No, but perhaps in this case it is all right to believe me," the lama said, handing the specimen to his disciple.

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