"It was not my intention in writing this story, to prove whether or not, the creature called the yeti, actually existed or not; for it is my position as a writer to not intercede, nor conflict with basis of scientific argument. As a writer I merely sought to convey the purpose of enhancing a story, fictive and quite imaginatory. Thus, I elucidate the following, I wrote the yeti for many reasons perhaps. But in the end, it was for it’s charismatic character, and it’s mysterious persona, that most intrigued and interested me to write about it. Though, I acknowledge that I do not bear the credentials of a scientist nor of science itself, and there may be those who shall seek it fitting of them, to cast aspersion and criticism upon me, and daresay, what I wrote was insufficient and inadequate as well. It is not my position neither, nor a toil I belabour myself to indulge in sprewing Darwin’s theory of evolution; for I leave that endeavour upon others, who are so mostly equipped, with such proper education and upbringing. I sought only, to write a tale of which, as with that of my other stories to enlighten of which, can only be told by the writer and interpreted, by the reader. The yeti, is a tale of marvel, and within this realm of journals that I impose, there one can find truly, the essence of adventure and personal insight. I shall leave those who dare to read the entirety of this story, to pass judgement upon me."

I leave you now, with Darwin’s own quote. “There is grandeur in this view of life, with it’s several powers, having been originally breathed by the creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being evolved!” Charles Darwin: 1872

(The Adventures of Sir Bunbury)


(Niles Bunbury’s Journal)

4 October, 1938-It is with great sadness and sulleness, that I make this entry. If it not be for my duty and commitment, I would not dare write about this private and personal moment. I have arrived to the house and estate of my grandfather Professor William Sir Bunbury, to see him so indeed perhaps one last time. I do believe that he is extremely ill, and near death. I was forced to come from Cambridge in order to make this trip. I managed to catch the train from Cambridge to here in London, in sufficient time. Once I arrived at the estate, I was met by good Charles the butler, who immediately proceeded to escort me so, to the room of my dearest grandfather Dr. William Bunbury. Once inside the room, I could see him there laying upon his spacious and so commodious bed; but he was not in good condition. For it seemed to me, that he was in complete inanition or faggness. I could see in his eyes as I approached him, that palpably his last days had seen him gone by; and his final hour was but approaching. “Has he not spoken and talked much Charles?” I said to the butler. Charles, merely nodded his head and said, “No! What I can only attest to sir is the fact, that he made one final request!” I bemusedly, inquired. “What are you talking about Charles?”

He then proceeded to reveal to me, the mystery behind his final request. “I can only say with all due respects, that what are the details of that request, can only be spoken by the master himself!” It was then, that Charles excused himself, and left me to be alone in complete privacy. I was now all alone with Grandfather, so I then slowly and gingerly walked toward him. It seemed that my steps, were too impervious or a faux pas to him. Once, I was but a foot away from his bed, I could descry for the first time, just how sick and ill Grandfather was. He was so pale and so gaunt, and extremely so wan. His face and lineament, were but a mere shadow of what they were before; for he was now but a gaffer. His eyes were closed, and there were tubes in his nose; for it was determined, that he was to die in the comfort of his own home than, that of a good hospital. “Grandfather!” I called. He did not respond after my second attempt. I then felt obliged to head toward the window sill, and lift up the curtains. Perhaps the just sight of the radiant sun, would then bestow upon him, the vivacity and esprit. After lifting up the curtains, I headed back toward the bed, and saw that indeed the glow of the light had permeated, and resonated onto, the face of Grandfather. It was indeed pleasant to see, a rainbow outside of the window. I grabbed his hand, and immediately held so firmly to it. “Grandfather, how do you feel today?” I asked. His reaction would be succinct and subtle; for upon seeing me, he was somehow able to recall my visage.” “Niles, is that you?” he whispered. I could see some sense of life in him, despite the fact that he was in his mid seventies, and ailing. His condition was depleting, and his dear body functions, were at the stage of depletement as well. For it was common for him, to defecate and micturate upon himself. He had completely lost his vow movements, and could not even get up, and make it to the loo. Neither could he even feed himself, and imbibe himself. My heart indeed cringed; for I had loved him since a lad, and had cherished him as a God. For to me sometimes, he was a God. I then got closer to him as to make my voice and ears, much more audible to him. “Yes dearest grandfather, I am here!” He then murmured and slurred something, which I failed to understand. “Niles, Niles, ple..ase, jonal!”

I then got even more closer to him, “What is it Grandfather? What do you want to say?” He then uttered the word, “Charles!” I then knew of what he was wanting, and so I quickly rose to my feet and headed toward the door, and attempted to find Charles. I stepped outside, and called on him. “Charles come at once please!” He came, “What is it sir?” I then told him about Grandfather’s request for him. “It’s Grandfather! He is requesting you!” “Of course sir!” he said. We then entered the room, and immediately Charles headed toward my grandfather’s bedside. It was then that he drew nearer to him, by putting his ear to his mouth. “What is it sir?” I remained closely. After a minute or so, Charles then rose up and then confessed to me, what my dearest grandfather was uttering so. “What is it Charles? What did he say to you?” He thence replied, “I must execute your grandfather’s last request sir!” It was then I inquisitively inquired. “What did he request Charles?” He then uttered, “His journal sir!” I then was at a lost to know what exactly, he was referring to. “What journal? I am afraid, that I don’t have a clue nor inkling, of what you are referring to! He then responded in a candid, and down right dunstable manner. “I know what he is referring about sir!” He then left the room, and went to retrieve the supposed journal. “I shall be back sir!” Unfortunately for Charles, it would be the last time so, in which he would see Grandfather alive. I would be solely the one to witness his death. I could hear him moaning and talking mad, and sprouting delusions. “Aah! No! I will not, nor shall I leave you Sir Wellington, I shall return! The beast will not escape. And I will shall bring back help and assistance, but please stay firm!” I then raced toward his bedside and then held firmly and sternly his hand, as he was quickly slipping by. I tried to comfort him, by my voice. “I am here Grandfather, it is me Niles. And I have to come to see you! Don’t you remember me Grandfather?” I then hawed for a second so, before I uttered, “Don’t you remember our trip to Eastbourne Grandfather?” His stare was blank and lifeless. He was staring straight ahead, as if he was calling on someone. “Martha, I am coming, please do wait for me, I shall not tarry!” I then felt that he was quickly slipping away and dying so; for he was now addressing, and talking to my grandmother Martha. “Grandfather, it is I Niles, please hear me! I beg of you!”

It was then that for a split second, a palatial thing occurred. He turned to me and uttered, “Niles, is that you lad?” I then exclaimed, “Yes Grandfather, it is I Niles so!” I could at least even if it be so for a brief moment, see the glee in his eyes; but unfortunately, my face would be the last thing that he would see. He then slowly began to blink profusely, before he would pass away, with his eyes wide awake. “Grandfather, please don’t go!” I shouted. Unfortunately, my tears and cries, could not restore nor revive him. It was to be God’s mercy. I then slowly began to cross his arms together, and then closed his eyes at last. Since my grandfather was a Protestant, I thought it be fitting to bless him with the sign of the cross, and so I uttered. “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen!” It was then that dear Charles entered the room and he too began to wail. He had been a loyal and sanguine servant of my grandfather. “Sir... oh sir!” he uttered, as he bowed his head in reverence. I then, stepped out of the room for a moment, in order to compose myself. I then stepped outside into the lawn, to refreshen myself. Outside I stared at the trees, that once haboured me as a child, when I was a mischievous and impish lad. When I used to climb up the trees, and proclaim myself, as Robin Hood. I started to reminisce and recall, how my grandfather would sit outside with me and my oldest brother Edward, and narrate ghost stories. He was so efficient and efficacious, but at the same time, dramatic in his anecdotes.

He was fond in particular, of the mystical creature called the yeti. Which for some reason unbeknown to me, he spend almost all of his life searching for. It was then, that Charles stepped onto the back lawn, upon seeing me he then came to me, then he uttered words of comfort. “I am deeply sorry sir, for it is sad to be the only one, to be at his side. The truth be told, although you were his only grandson, and his own son your father died, he wanted so badly before he died, for you to be present at his side!” It was then, that he handed over the journal to me. “Here you are sir!” He then left, and tended to the duties of my grandfather’s interment. It had been agreed that my dearest grandfather, the great professor Sir Bunbury, would be buried at St. Bartholomew church here in London. I left my grandfather’s estate at Berkeley square. I then decided to spend the night in a downtown hotel, then left the estate of my dearest grandfather. I sought to seek solace, and succour in my own room. I managed to have Philip the chauffeur, take me at once to Kensington High St. It was there, that I would register myself at the Kensington Palace Hotel. “Yes, will it be one only sir?” “Yes!” I answered. I was then given the keys after signing in. “Here you are sir!” I got my keys, and then headed up toward my room, which was on the second floor. I was given the keys to the room number of 208, where I then using the lift, then made it at last to the room. Once there I then opened the door, then put my coat into the cloakroom, I then left the journal onto the escritoire. I then took off my shoes and laid down in the bed, thinking and so pondering about the recent death of my grandfather. But after several minutes or so, I then decided that I had to distract myself, or I would drive myself mad. I then got up from the bed and then decided, to head toward the escritoire whereupon the desk, laid the infamous journal of my grandfather. I then was somehow drawn to it, and allured by it. I then sat down in the chair of the escritoire, and slowly opened the journal where then, I began to read my grandfather’s journal, as the rain began to pour down.

-Cutting from the “Westminster Gazette 18 November, 1898

We report this morning, that a Danish professor and archaeologist, by the name of Dr. Peter Hansen, claimed to have not only spotted the legendary creature, but has found proof. He claims, that he can prove that the mysterious beast that the locals call, “The yeti!” exists. It had been reported that Dr. Hansen, will be at the British Museum to vaunt his discovering. There will be amongst the attendees, archaeologists, anthropologists, and scientists from the whole wide world. It is reported as well, that they come as far as America to as far as Australia, seeking for perhaps to solve the enigma and mystery of this primitive creature? The event, will take place in accordance with the museum’s schedule which I am told, will be tomorrow morning. There will be also, an entrance fee of about fifty pounds. For it is indeed, much steep for the many of the populace; but then again, a price like this is deserving of such warrant. Jonathan Rivers, will be among the few attending the spectacle and in our behalf. We shall keep our public and readers aware and cognisant, of the news and tidings. Sir Bunbury’s Journal 19 November-I was awakened by nine o’clock in the morning, when I had discovered indeed, that I had but just an hour to make my randevu at the museum today. I quickly went to the good lavatory, and then washed my face, and took a short warm bath. I then got myself dressed and groomed, in the best attire that I had in the cloakroom. I then put on my cape; for it was raining heavily outside. I passed by the breakfast table when I realised, that I did not have time to eat; for I was already running late. “Sir Bunbury, aren’t you going to have anything to eat?” asked the maidservant. I would politely say no. “No, for I don’t believe I have time my dear!” The dear maidservant then inquired. “But sir, what could cause you to miss your breakfast; for the tea is ready? Will you not have tea at least?” I would unfortunately, not have even have the time to but fancy tea; for I had another priority much more important on my mind. “I’m sorry dear Alice, but I am afraid that I can’t! I must get to the British Museum at once, or I fear that I will be late!” I then grabbed a bickier, and the daily journal. “Shall I tell Monty, to get the carriage ready sir?” exclaimed the maidservant. “Please do so!” I then took a small bite out of the bickier, and then waited outside the house, in the lawn for Monty to arrive. When he did arrive, I got in and was somewhat to a degree late. “Where to sir?” “Take me at once to Montague street, and to the British Museum quickly!” Inside I had a badinage with Monty, or a small parley with him. “So today is the day huh sir? I am sure that you’ve been fancying this day since years, if I say so!” I was reading the journal at the time, and my mind was someone distracted. “Yes!” “So do you think that you will be able to find something valuable there sir?” asked Monty. My response in general was, “Why I do hope so for my own sake!” Once we arrived past the Russell square, and then onto Montague Street, I quickly descended from the carriage, and then quickly entered the museum. But not before Monty would ask me, what time should he come around to pick me up. “By the way sir! What time shall I come for you?” I turned around and said simply, “In about an hour or so, I do believe!” “All right sir!” Monty said. He then left Montague Street, and headed back on Piccadilly Street back to my home in Berkeley. I made certain before I had entered the museum, that I would at least square up my tie, and take the wrinkles off my cape.

Along with dusting off any specks of dirt, that I might of had on my shoes with my hands. Alas! I was ready and trimmed to enter the museum. When I entered the museum, I had made it in just the nick of time; for the presentation was about to start in five minutes. Inside the famous museum, were scientists, anthropologists, archaeologists, from around the world. By Jove! There were also a limited amount of journalists present as well. Indeed so, this was more then a meagre spectacle. Whilst I was waiting in the corridor, I was confronted by Sir Alfred Wellington, truly perhaps the most greatest mind and scientist of our recent decade. “So tell me Sir Bunbury, what is going through your mind today?” He then sipped his cup of tea, and then said, “Do you indeed believe, the bloody Dane has found anything about the yeti?” “I must admit that I myself am a bit sceptical about this, but I am open for anykind of discovering!” I confessed. He again sipped his cup of tea as he held the cup, with his pinky sticking out. “I do hope so!” I then queried about his crafty diligence, and praised him so, for his research on the creature. “Tell me something Sir Wellington, what does this chance of finally discovery, an inkling of shrewd of evidence of the yeti, fancy upon you? I must say that I do admire you for your diligence, and for your outstanding thesis on the creature itself!” Sir Wellington would chuckle and blush at my kind words of good blandishment. “By Jove! I must attest that in the first place, why I have been searching for over forty years now on the creature. Second of all why I do hope, that the interest will be there in the end, for the next expeditions! The only arduous problem, is whether or not there is proof or not! Thenceforth, I must remain sceptical; for I am not smugged! It was then, that the announcement was made outloud, that the presentation was about to begin. “We better get our positions inside Sir Wellington for if not indeed, we will be then left out in the cold!” Sir Wellington’s response would be, “Why your indeed correct old boy!” We then got our positions among the many, when then the presentation began in earnest. Infront of the museum stood the Danish archaeologist, by the name of Peter Hansen. A man who was in his mid-fifties, and despite his white beard, and his thick brogue, he seemed to be quite a debonair if I should say so. He was fully so educated at Cambridge, and was pedantic.

Although there was one foible pertaining to him, and that was the fact, that he appeared to not have shaven for at least several weeks or so. There he was with his hands over the podium, in the world at his beckoning. One can say perhaps at least momentarily, the world was his oyster. “Good morning! I say to all of you, who have come today to see my presentation. I am very glad and happy to be here in your England, and in the Historical British Museum. I am also very happy to be able to at last give you, what you all came to see, and that is the creature called the yeti!” There behind him in a glass container and sheet, stood the so rather enigmatic creature itself or a part of him. “I must warn you so, that I did not bring back a whole specimen. What I did bring back, were photographs and above all, the hand of the creature!” One could sense this melodramatic and charismatic look on the face of the professor; for it was equal to a thaumaturge. “Ladies and gentleman! To my fellow colleagues, and to those who it may so concern! I present to you, the hand of the yeti!” He then quickly so lifted up the sheet, and there behind him in a glass container, was the hand of the yeti. I attempted to get a much closer look, “Excuse me Sir Wellington!” “Where are you going old boy?” said Sir Wellington. I turned to him and said, “I’ll be back in a moment! I shall do my best in attempting to see the hand!” I then managed to squeeze myself into the crowed mob of onlookers and at last, I was able to descry as much as I could of the mysterious object, that was the hand of the yeti.

It was indeed, the best that I could do from afar since the good professor, was not allowing anyone to pass the limited perimeters, that were restricted onto the public including myself. As I stood there, with my feet above swollen already, and my sole but even so more swollen, I began to see around me flashes of effulgent and rutilant lights as the dear journalists, photographers, were taking pictures of the specimen along with the Dane. The professor then, began to pound with his gavel onto the podium as to get order, control of the situation. Indeed there was a huge commotion and clamour, when the creature’s hand was indeed revealed at last. “Order please! I say order must be reached, or I will be forced to end this presentation at once!” It was then, that some respectable and honourable degree of order was reached. He then opened up the presentation for inquiries from the public. “I will now answer your questions, or any type of inquiries that you have at this moment!” Just as he eloquently and much perfervidly made that ecphonesis, he would be engulfed and enmeshed by a whole barrage of questions and inquiries, that would begin to inundate him from every direction. It was then, that once again he was thus forced, to pound onto the podium with the gavel in his hand in order again, to reach any good resemblance of order. “One at a time please! I will answer every question that you do have; but only one at a time!” The reporter from the Westminster Gazette, was the first to ask, “Professor Hansen, where did you find the specimen at? And how on earth can we be assured, that this is the hand of the legendary creature the Abominable Snowman?” The professor paused for a dear moment, and there was also complete silence in the room by all, as if all were seduced by a very sybaritic woman or so. He then inhaled a deep and slow breath, before he then exhale it then he simply said, “Because I was there!” It appeared that his aphasia was only temporary. He became a bit vociferous. It appeared, that he was more than merely brickbated. “I tell you, that I saw with my very own eyes the creature itself; and I swear that what you see here, is the hand of the yeti!” He had this so bizarre bravura and ambage. It was then that a reporter from Reuters asked, “So tell me professor, how long will you be here in London or but should I say, how long will the specimen be for display?” The professor answered by saying, “I believe for about a couple of days. I must so return to Denmark, and to my duties there!” It was then, that the barrage of questions were once again being asked. And for the final time the good professor, would be forced to strike the podium with his gavel. “Order please, order!” After dear order was at last reached, he answered one last question, and that was from a good chap from the Times called Geoffrey O’Toole who I happened to know.

“When will you be returning to the old Himalayas? And who will be accompanying you, on your next expedition?” The professor mildly replied, “Soon I hope, that is why I am here! Now that there is proof then I hope, that I will be able to get some contributions here that is why, I have come to London!” It was then, that any sanity among the press, could not be maintained and controlled. The professor, was forced and compelled to abruptly end, with the press conference. He would so quickly, be escorted off the podium and out of the room itself; but not before passing me by. I would eagerly attempt, to fight my way to reach him. “Professor Hansen, over here!” He so appeared to be oblivious of my call. What I failed to realised, was that it was impossible for him to hear me while all the bloody commotion around him, was going on around him. He was to be escorted to a private room in the museum constantly being badgered, by the constant barrage of inquiries, that were being so thrown at him by the press core.

The people in the room, would disperse and again, I found myself in the presence and company of Sir Wellington who apparently, had survived the hectorness, and the sort of awful recidivous behaviour of the press. “By Jove my dear boy! I have never thus, seen such a form of ochlocracy before!” Were you able to descry, at the object professor?” asked Sir Wellington. “Yes to an extent sir! I got a good view of the hand, but still not as much as I had fancied. But, I still have a chance to speak to the professor, and perhaps then he will grant and bestow upon us, a closer look. You know perhaps if we invite him to lunch then, he could accept and concede.” Sir Wellington just smiled as if he was smugged with that idea. “Why of course professor, it’s a great idea. I only wished, that I would have thought about that sooner!” “I do hope so for our sake, that he does accept my gracious invitation. If not then, I would have to find another way! I can’t give up so easily, not until I can talk to him about perhaps partaking in his next endeavour, the both of us sir?”Sir Wellington frowned. “Do you think that will be so feasible professor?” I looked back at him with a sudden subtle look. “I believe so!” It was determined, that I would attempt to speak with the professor. Sir Wellington and I made it passed the exiting crowd of reporters, and headed toward the private room in which Dr. Hansen, was to be in. When we arrived there was security posted, and the prospect of chatting with the professor, was as it appeared so, almost impossible. “Why are you sure you want to go through with this?” inquired Sir Wellington. I said with a sense of bravura. “Of course sir!” I told Sir Wellington, that by using his name, it would be enough to interest the professor, I proceeded ahead. “I shall return Sir Wellington!”

When I reached the security personal, I made it known who I was, and who Sir Wellington was as well. “Excuse me, but I must speak to Dr. Hansen. Not only am I an admirer of his, but as well is my good friend Sir Wellington!” I pointed to him, where he was standing there as he nodded his head, as if to signal his presence. “I don’t know sir I was told, that the professor was to not be interrupted at no expense!” I interjected, “But if you tell him that I and in particular, the Great Sir Wellington is here to speak to him, I am sure he will rescind his opinion. After all, I don’t see how it will hurt in the end if you at least make that truly known to him or am I mistaken?” The security man, thought nothing of it. “Well, I don’t see any harm in making that dear overture!” He then raised the tone of his voice, and uttered in his thick Cockney accent, “You aren’t a bloody reporter aren’t you? Blimey, because it you are then, I will be sending you so on your merry way now!” I acknowledged, that I wasn’t a reporter neither a journalist. “No, I am not a reporter, but instead a good scientist or should I say so, a professor at the university of Cambridge!” I showed him my credentials. He had this smugged look, on his face thence afterwards. “Blimey, you are a bloody doctor!” He then departed, and went to relay my message. After a few minutes he returned, and said to me, “I was told by the professor, that he wished that he had more time to speak to you and to Sir Wellington, but I am afraid, that won’t be possible due to his hectic schedule. I do regret that mate!” I then said back, “So do I lad!” I made one last demand, “Hold on there my boy, will you at least tell the Danish professor that I and Sir Wellington, would love for him to have dinner with us, this very night at my residence?” I handed over to him on a piece of paper my address, “Here you are old boy my address which is 628, Berkeley St. which is by Berkeley Square!” He tarried for a moment, “I don’t know, if I should sir!” I coaxed. “Come on my old boy, I’m sure that there won’t be any harm, in giving him my piece of paper!” “All right, but just this time sir!” “But why of course!” I replied. “Do you believe that the professor, will accept our invitation?” Sir Wellington asked.

I looked at him, confidently and sanguinely. “I do believe so sir!” When the security man returned, he would say, “The professor had told me so, that he has accepted your invitation for dinner; and he would like to know at what time shall he be there?” “At around eight o’clock!” I told him. He nodded his head and then said. “I will tell him that message sir!” It was then, that I walked back toward Sir Wellington. “Tell me old boy, what did he say?” asked Sir Wellington. I was solemn, for there was a sullen look on my face. It was then that I smiled and said, “He has accepted Sir Wellington, at eight o’clock, it shall be!” We thence, left the auspices of the British Museum, and each departed in our own direction but not before, we confirmed our good dinner appointment with the Danish professor for the night. “Eight o’clock my boy!” Sir Wellington did asked. I only replied, “Eight o’clock it will be sir!” He got into his carriage and was on his way, and I as well got into my carriage, and was on my merry way as well.

7:15-I scurried around the room preparing myself for dinner tonight. I stood infront of the good mirror, adjusting emphatically my tie, and primping the edge of my moustache. I then heard the knocking on my door, and it was Alfred the butler. I could hear his voice. “Sir! sir, it is I, Alfred! I came to inform you, that the professor’s carriage has just pulled into the lawn sir!” I then stared at the clock near the wall and saw, that it was 7:52 already. “I am coming!” I replied. I scurried and hastened to make it outside, in order to greet the professor. Once I made it there, and into the front lawn, it was then that I was able to make it in time, to greet the professor. Once I got there as well, the professor was descending from the carriage. “Good evening, professor! But how was your day in London?” The professor tipped his hat first, out of hospitality thence he said, “Good evening Professor Bunbury! I must confess that my day aside from my presentation at the British Museum, was quite pleasant and enjoyable. My visit to Westminster Abbey and above all your National Gallery, was interesting!” I grabbed him by the shoulder, and ushered him inside. “Let us now enter, and continue the discussion at the dinning table shall we?” Inside, we sat down at the dinning table. I was a bit preoccupied, that Sir Wellington had not arrived. But I would be soon relieved, to see him at last arrive. “Excuse me my lord, but I believe that Sir Wellington, has arrived at last!” “Good, when he gets here then, escort him to the dinning table!” When he arrived, he was of course escorted to the dinning room, where I and the good professor, were both situated upon waiting for him. “Sir Wellington, it is good to see that you made it at last!” I exclaimed. Sir Wellington, was a tad abased, and embarrassed about his tardiness. “Professor Bunbury, Professor Hansen, please do forgive me so, for my impudence!” “Why think nothing of it Sir Wellington. Not only have I the honour of having the professor here, but to have you here as well is an honour!” I responded. “How modest of you to say that professor!”

He then sat down with us, I must say that good Sir Wellington is indeed a dapper, and a very tawdrish fellow despite his advancing age. “So how long have you both been waiting for me, professor?” “Not long sir, the professor and I, were just chatting and prating,” I replied. “So tell me Professor Hansen when exactly, will you make your next trip to the Himalayas?” inquired, Sir Wellington. Hansen’s response would be, “I am not sure, there is still much to be accomplished. But I do admit that I hope it be sooner than later. I do wish to return as soon as possible!” I interjected by saying, “I must confess professor, that the reason in inviting you here tonight, was exactly for that reason and purpose!” I hawed.

“Why I would be remised, If I did not confess that to you!” Hansen realised that, and was pleasantly receptive to my furtive attempt of bribery. “I don’t see harm in that professor, though I must inquire about, just what is your prime objective in speaking to me?” I then patently, and so downright dunstable said to him, “Why I along with Sir Wellington, were interested in partaking in your next expedition to the Himalayas.” I then looked at Sir Wellington and stated. “Why Sir Wellington would be willing to finance the foray and be willingly as well, to join the expedition. Is that not so Sir Wellington?” Sir Wellington then responded by saying, “By Jove! You know, you are correct. Indeed Professor Hansen, it would truly be an honour for I to finance and join the expedition, at my own discretion.” (I have decided to use Hansen here, simply as preference.) Hansen then hawed and tarried for a moment; for not as to parry or eschew the question, but to decide whether or not, it was propitious for him, not to reject the proposal. After several minutes, he then responded by saying, “I shall ponder and think heavily, about this proposal of yours; but I must have time!” “How long professor?” I asked. He replied, “At least two weeks or so!” “Tell me professor, what did you really see when your were there?” asked Sir Wellington. “Sir Wellington, must you ask an insipid question?” I exclaimed so, feeling perhaps, that he had offended the professor. Hansen saw no aspersion, nor was he insulted at all, by Sir Wellington’s fadaise. He instead thought, it better to address Sir Wellington’s question. “It is all right professor, I see no harm nor was I offended by Sir Wellington’s question!” He then looked at Sir Wellington and addressed him. “Well if you need to know Sir Wellington, what I said,” he then paused, before he answered. “There whilst I was in Nepal, I did see the creature but unfortunately, I wasn’t able to capture the creature!” His eyes then glared, “But I believe that somewhere out there, the creature exists and is out there, waiting to be discovered!” Sir Wellington then asked, “But do tell me professor, how can you be sure?”

The professor then replied, “Because, whilst upon my journey, I met a group of nomadic people called the Sherpas, who described to me in details, about the truth pertaining to the yeti. So, it was due to them, that I do truly believe that the yeti does indeed exist!” Sir Wellington, interjected by saying, “How can you be truly sure or certain professor, that these so-called Sherpas, are telling you the truth?” And good God, what are these Sherpas that you mention?” Hansen’s response would be banal. “Because, I have met these people, and until you have so met and come across these people of Nepal then, you cannot come to understand their relationship with the creature!” Tell me something professor, how did you come across these nomadic people of Nepal, as you call them professor?” I asked. The professor would reply, “By mere coincidence my dear professor. You see that one day, I had stumbled onto a small village by the Himalayas, when I suddenly came face to face, with the native people of the northern region of the country called Tarai, which is in the northern part of the country itself. Thank God that I had Orbak, my good translator there beside me, or I would have never been able to speak and communicate with these people!” “You say, that they are native people then, they must be primitive? And if so, just how primitive are they professor?” inquired Sir Wellington. Hansen only elucidated and expounded, that they were more than mere primitive people. “They are not only primitive, but they are truly incredible and captivating people!” “By what way professor?” inquired Sir Wellington. Hansen replied, “They are the only people who know everything about the yeti, and they my friend, were the ones who gave me the hand. The same object which was on true display this very day in the British Museum!”

It was then that dinner was served, and the parley would have to wait until afterwards. After dinner, we chatted and prated, for the remainder of the night. Hours were go by, and at least close to two o’clock in the morning, that the professor along with Sir Wellington, would depart from the house. I would escort them on their way. I then headed for the comfort of my bed, somewhat accomplishing what I sought to accomplish. I had convinced the dear professor, to allow Sir Wellington and I, to embark with him on his next expedition to the Himalayas in particular, the country of Nepal. It was agreed that I and Sir Wellington, were to wait for a letter that would be sent by the professor himself. The letter could arrive from now, until the next month.

-Letter from Professor Hansen to Sir Bunbury:

1 Dec, 1898.

Dear professor,

I am writing to you this letter to inform you, that I will be leaving soon for Nepal, in two weeks. And I advise you along with Sir Wellington, to be prepared to travel to dearest Geneva, Switzerland; where there I will be expecting the both of you. From Geneva, we shall then make the long and arduous journey to Calcutta India by train. And from there, we shall venture on foot and mule to the country of Nepal. I must confirm to you, that I have selected as well, a fellow archaeologist from America, by the name of Jack Walters who will be accompanying us on the journey. I advised, that you bring sufficient goods and necessities; for the weather shall be cold, frigid, and the temperature below zero. I recommend also, that you familiarise yourselves with the surroundings and areas of the country and region. I do hope, that you will put sufficient and efficacious interest and effort, into this endeavour. I must warn you both, that there is a trenchant possibility that upon our arrival and expedition in Nepal, we might not discover nor locate the beast. The only thing that I can assure, is that all effort must be given, if we are all to succeed in the end. We must if we are ultimately to find, and bring back the body of a living yeti! Thence, I leave you with the following items and necessities, that will be needed for the trip.

:1.Hiking boots.

2. Thermal underpants and underwear.

3. Goods, such as food and water.

4. Rifles or pistols, that have bullets.

5. Tranquillisers, medicine.

6. Paper and writing utensils.

“P.S-Be prepared not only physically, but also mentally as well; for the trip shall be long, and the days soon become months!

Yours truly, Peter Hansen

-Letter from Sir Bunbury to Professor Hansen:

7 Dec, 1898.

Dear professor,

I am writing back to you, concerning the letter that you have sent to me. I must report to you, that I have already received your letter, and graciously and thankfully accept your noble and kind invitation, to join you on this next expedition. I have so conversed with Sir Wellington at length about your letter and he too had confirmed, that he is eager and ready to be a part of this next expedition of yours. I along with Sir Wellington, have thus gathered up all the necessary items pertaining to the trip to Nepal. We have also, made our reservations at the train station in London already; and we shall arrive in Geneva, no later than a day before. We shall be prompt and on time of course as one knows, depending on the status of the train. Sir Wellington and I, have been spending our days at the British Museum and the Science Museum. I do look forward to seeing you in Geneva, and I look forward to meet this American chap of yours. I am sure, that Sir Wellington will be anxious also to meet this fellow. Sir Wellington has asked me to tell you that he is so willing to spend as much money as possible in order to find the creature at last. But more importantly, to bring back not a fossil but like yourself, a real living yeti!

Yours truly, Professor Bunbury.

13 December-It was raining hard outside, and the temperature was cold, and the snow had fallen upon this unbearable region. Winter time I am afraid, is upon us now. The train had truly finally arrived on time with thank God, no real problems. Once in Geneva, I descended from the train; along with Sir Wellington. We then were forced to wait at the station inside, for the professor’s arrival into Geneva itself. We were supposed to meet him upon our arrival, but after several attempts in searching for him, we were unfortunately unable to locate him. I was so fully clothed from head to toe, and so was Sir Wellington.

But I must attest, that he looked more like a good Russian Kazak than a respected professor. At the station, we could hear only the sound of the engine and the howling of the cold wind. I could feel it be so unique and so ironic. The environs or the ambience here was superb. All that was evident to my aperçu, were the magnificent Alps mountains which encompassed, and surrounded the environs of this lovely and beauteous great city of Geneva for Switzerland itself, was a land of opulence and great wealth. “Such a beautiful scenery, and such a picturesque place also!” I commented to Sir Wellington. His response was sullen, “By Jove you’re right professor, such a beautiful landscape!” It was my first visit to Switzerland, and to Geneva in particular. But not so, for Sir Wellington. A man of his great stature and position, was quite an itinerant and chimerical troubadour. Not only was Sir Wellington a hedonist and a hegemonist, he was less than heterodox, in his way of dear prodigality. One can say that he was lion-heart and chivalrous. After all here was a man who had travelled and made expeditions to the jungles of Africa, and to the fens and lochs of Scotland, and to the rough turrain of the mountains of America. I had long admired and fancied the chance to be, in this great city. I had travelled sparingly abroad to places such as America, and to several European countries. But since I was such a diligent and sedulous docent, I often found myself so wrapped and enmeshed, in my own drudgery. I had not the sufficient amount of time, to venture outside of England. (Rem-must remind myself of that small tid bit of reality and thus, must plan ahead, when I return back to England!”

Truly my admiration and reverence, had been there since I was but a young lad, and first came across it in my first novel as a lad. I still can remember, the good book itself. It was Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein. I had always seen Geneva, as a haven for the most prestigious and most eloquent place. That is what Mother use to tell me so. Switzerland itself, was a country in which there are three national languages; French, German, Italian, and another sub-national language called Romansch. It was inside the train, that I was able to hear the Rhaeto-Romansch language itself; for I was told by the fellow next to I and Sir Wellington that the language, was an archaic Romantic language, much like it’s fellow kin of Spanish, Italian, French, Portuguese, and even the obscure language of Catalan. In a sense, it was much analogous and cognate to Catalan. But I must confess, that it sounded to me more of a mixture of Italian and Romanian to me. One can say in generic terms, that either one was quite miscible and capable of miscegenating, with each other. Geneva itself, was primarily a French speaking city. But to say that it was listless, was an injustice; for the city itself was personified by it’s motley and heterogeneous ilk of people, from multitudinous and sundry nationalities. There was a galore of gentry, that glistened through the ambience. I dare not utter to the Swiss about their supercilious, and fustian manners and ways. I dare not be galling and hectoring to them. Why then it would be gauche and cumbersome of me to do that. But indeed, they were pompous and felt as if they were, the cynosure of Europe. “So at last we are here, but where is my dear boy, the good professor at?” I queried Sir Wellington.

I would only be left to wonder and cogitate as well. I was led to believe by the good professor’s letter, that he along with the mysterious and anonymous American fellow, would be there in Geneva waiting for us. “I don’t have one bloody or blinning clue, to why the professor or the American fellow, are not here welcoming us both as I am afraid, the professor had stated in his letter to me!” “What do you believe, happened to them professor?” asked Sir Wellington. I could only shrug my shoulders and say so, “I simply can only say, that I don’t have the slightest idea!” It was then, that Sir Wellington went to the man at the gate the ticket-holder, hoping to see what was the delay, or when was the professor’s train to arrive into Geneva. I in the good meantime, waited stoically for the dear professor to arrive. After a minute, Sir Wellington would return, with information about the professor’s train. “I do believe so, that the professor’s train, should be coming, in a matter of minutes.” I then asked Sir Wellington about whether or not he was told, about the delay or retard of the professor’s train or in lament terms, what was causing his delay? “Tell me Sir Wellington did the man at the gate, inform you about the cause or good inducement of the delay of the professor’s train?” Sir Wellington’s response would be sufficient. “Yes, I was told that the delay was due to the wretched weather, and it would only be a matter of minutes, before his train would arrive!” So Sir Wellington and myself waited so eagerly, for the arrival of the professor’s train. It would only be several minutes afterwards, that the good train carrying the professor, and the American would arrive. On the train would be of course both the professor, and the American on board as well!” “There over there Sir Wellington, there appears to be the oncoming train of the professor!” I exclaimed to Sir Wellington. Sir Wellington upon his sight of the train, would exclaim himself, “By Jove dear boy, you’re right indeed!” It was then at last, that the train carrying the professor and his American associate, would arrive into the station. The sound of the engine could be heard from afar and it could be heard as well, as it so halted. After the train pulled into the station, the professor would descend from the train after several passengers before him descended.

As we saw and spotted the dear professor descending from the train, Sir Wellington and I, would then approach the gate, in which the professor was about to pass through. It was there, that we came face to face, at last with Hansen. As he walked through the gate, I then saluted and greeted him with the typical greeting and salutations of all us Europeans, a kiss from one cheek to another. “I am sure glad and merry, that you have finally arrived professor!” I said. The professor would then say, “It is indeed good to arrive at last in Geneva; and I must confess, that it is good to see you and Sir Wellington!” he stated. He then apologised for his delay. “I am sorry, that the train arrived later than what it was supposed to arrive; for I had no inclination of knowing that professor and Sir Wellington!” It was then that after several more persons descended from the train, that the American gent that the professor had mentioned to me in his letter, would finally descend from the train and come through the gate itself. “So that must be the American that you mentioned, in your letter to me professor?” I inquired. The professor would respond by saying, “Yes, that is Mr. Jack Walters, an American professor and archaeologist from San Francisco California. And if I might say so, he is a bloody good archaeologist in fact the best, that I have ever seen!” It was then that I along with Sir Wellington, greeted so the American Mr. Walters. After exchanging pleasantries with each other, we then decided that we would stay the night, and lodge at a lodge nearby the station. For it was our intention and inducement, to leave morrow in the midday. Our trip through the Great Austrian-Hungarian Empire then, through the isolated country of Romania, and onto the Slovak countries as well.

Ultimately our destination, was Asia, Calcutta India in particular. It was at Calcutta, that we were then to travel in earnest to our final destination, which was the country of Nepal. We were to venture there to start our plight in search of the greatest legendary creature called, the yeti! From there on we would be forced to travel, and make the trek on foot and mule; for the trip and foray was to begin in earnest and in all essence, there and only there would we be able to at last come face to face, with the mystical creature. Once at the inn, we gathered around the fireplace and table nearby, to chat and converse with each other, about our trek to the great Himalayas mountains, and our trek to find the enigmatic creature. Sir Wellington was still in his warm fur coat, and as far as I and the others were truly concerned the warmth of the fireplace, was suitable and apposite enough for us to be thankfully, warm enough. “So tell me something Sir Wellington, are you expecting to sleep with the fur coat on and I must say, that back home in the States, and in my hometown of San Francisco, one would only marvel at such a coat like yours. Where did you ascertain it from if I may inquire?” Sir Wellington, was quite smugged in his splendid fur coat, although he was not a braggard nor a braggadocio, he did seem pompous and orotund in admitting where he exactly, purchased the coat from. But I could sense truly that he was a tad bit apersed, and brickbated by the American’s comment. “Why I bought this coat in Russia, during one of my many travels through Europe. It was given to me by a Kazak and if I must say so, it is quite warm and pleasant!” It was then that the American would make the egregious comment, although it be in a whispering manner to himself, “If you tell me, he looks like a rancoon!” It was then that Sir Wellington, overheard that rather unflattery and unglozing remark, “Why I heard that young chap! And I must say, that we good Englishman and Europeans, do not live in such an unbearable and so dishevelled place like San Francisco. Here, we dress accordingly!”

It appeared that Sir Wellington’s rebuttal, would only bring a grin and a smile to the face of the dear American. “Am I to take your words, as an insult Sir Wellington?” he inquired. Sir Wellington only replied gallantly and stoically, “I unlike you, do not seek to asperse or brickbat anyone; for it would be too cumbersome and too gauche of me to do that sense of bravura!” It was then that we cohortly, and accretely began to laugh and cachinnate together. All except Sir Wellington, who didn’t find the humour in that to him it was merely, a terrible miff. Instead he grimaced and moued as if he was more impudent, and he felt that the idiosyncrasy of his good compeers, was more contumelious. “Cheer up dear boy, it was not mockery or japeness at all!” I said to Sir Wellington. He at last smiled, or he at least simulated a smile. I wasn’t completely so sure of what exactly Sir Wellington was thinking at the time, except that one never knows what could be betiding, the banausic eccentric mind of Sir Wellington. It was then that I asked Hansen, about what were we to expect once we arrived in Nepal. “So tell me something professor, what are we to expect and bide once we at last arrive in good Nepal?” The professor’s response would be, “Why I don’t exactly know, all that I know is that the creature, exists out there somewhere in the broad and wide range of the Himalayas!” One could sense the clarity and seriousness in his tone of voice. He was much affected by his dear ordeal with the creature, that it appeared to be much more than a casual obsession. But instead, a haunting phantasmagoria! “I can only so describe what I saw, the one chilling snowy night on the night of forth of August!” His eyes appeared to enlighten as he educed his memory, to recall and reminisce that unforgetful night. “What happened professor?” I asked him. He then paused for a moment, almost equivalent to a caesura. “Please continue professor!” uttered Sir Wellington. He then began to narrate as much amount of details that he could relay, leaving out only the boring minutiaes. “Well on that August gloomy night, whilst I along with my fellow compeers, we were asleep at the time by our camp. It was close to midnight by now, and we were by the campfire, talking ghost stories to each other. I was with two other fellow compeers, Dr. Niedenbürger an Austrian, and a Swede by the name of Dr. Björklund, and several Sherpas, who were our guides. It was close to midnight, and it was then after a while that we all turned in for the night all except a couple of Sherpas, who served as guards for the night.

It was then that an ululation or cry could be heard, coming from outside my tent. When I was awakened, I managed to put on my spectacles, and then quickly and impetuously, went outside of my tent to see what was all the commotion. Once outside I could see with my own eyes, there laying on the ground nearby, was the injured body of the Sherpa man who apparently had been viciously so attacked, and nearly mauled and mangled to death. I then raced toward the scene, and was able to see on his visage, a face of a scared and petrified man. Professor Niedenbürger then, quickly attended to his wound, which was apparently, a big bite on the right arm of the Sherpa!” It was then, that the professor paused for a moment causing us to inquire. “What is it professor?” I asked. The professor then continued, “It was then that I had inquired to the Sherpas about what had happened, and what was it that had viciously attacked, their fellow compatriot. The Sherpas would confide to me, that the Sherpa was attacked by a yeti. When I asked him he simply said in dramatic fashion, “He was attacked by a yeti sir!” Although he had a brogue, his English was impeccable. I was able to instruct the Sherpa who spoke English, to speak to the injured man in more details. I tried and attempted to get more information, but unfortunately, the Sherpa who was attacked fell so unconscious by now, and was not able to say anything!”

Mr. Walters, inquired about the status of the Sherpa. “So, what happened to the Sherpa professor?” The professor would then continue with the story. “I am afraid, he would never be the same; for he would die shortly afterwards. The wound would get too infected and ultimately, he would get gangrene and instead of amputating his arm, he decided to rather much choose death. I could not forget the words of the Sherpa!” he paused once again, before he continued. “When I awoke the next morning, we were then told by the Sherpas of where at last to find and locate the creature. We had been on the trek for the yeti, for nearly a week now and we had been prudently guided by the Sherpas, until this point. I had come to trust these people, who were in the end loyal and sanguine. I knew that they were the only indicated people to assist us, since they were native to this region and area. We had climbed the Himalayas, at least we had reached the destined place that the dear Sherpas had insinuated, that the creatures would be at. I could see from afar and from aloof, the impressive sight of the Himalayas themselves!” Sir Wellington interrupted by saying, “When did you come across the creature professor?” The professor would then, continue once again with his intriguing and fascinating story but not before answering, Sir Wellington’s one question. “Dear Sir Wellington we saw it, but first let me finish the story. It was then upon one side of the Great Himalayas, that we would make our encampment there, upon the mountain ridge. It was there, that upon that faithful and regrettable night we would at last not only see the yeti, but came face to face with it as well. Niedenbürger and Björklund, were closer to the ridge than I. I on the other hand, was closer to fellow Sherab, my fellow Sherpa companion. It was thence, that one of the Sherpas then screamed outloud, as he pointed outloud to us, “Up there on the top, there can’t you see the yeti?” he said in his local language.

Niedenbürger and Björklund would be there on the scene first, since they were closer and also infront of me. I then raced with Sherab, and quickly we were able to arrive to the others, when I arrived along with Sherab, I looked up toward where the Sherpa was pointing out to and there I saw the impressive and incredible image. I felt this magniloquence of sentiment, being emoted through me,” he paused. “I was completely speechless and in awl of the creature’s lineament, despite the good distance between us!” I could see the intensity and captivation in the eyes of Hansen. He seemed to be much more enmeshed in his story. “What did the creature look like?” asked the American, who was blowing a pant of his cigarette at the time. Hansen answered the American’s intriguing question. “He was stoic in persona, and mastodonic and strong in lineaments and his features. Oh I could not find the correct words to describe this creature at the time! I knew only that I was definitely impressed and captivated!” Sir Wellington then curiously enough, inquired about the creature’s reaction toward them in general. “Tell me professor, what exactly did the creature do, when he caught sight of you and the others?” Hansen’s response would be simply, “Why that in itself is unique to describe!” “What do you mean professor?” inquired Sir Wellington. Hansen’s response was, “I don’t know how could I explain, what I saw in mere words Sir Wellington?” It was then that the American interjected. “Tell us professor, did it run or did it stay and just stand there, and look at you?” Hansen’s reaction was one of seriousness, and one which was downright dunstable. His reaction for that momentarily moment, was almost too surreal to believe. It made the American put out his cigarette. “What happened?” asked the American. He simply replied, “It disappeared into the night, and that was all!” He was asked indeed, about the finding of the mysterious and chthonic hand of the creature, which he claimed to have found.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)-Continued

“So how was it that you came across the hand, and when thus exactly?” inquired Sir Wellington. Hansen’s response was less than clear, and I did not find much clarity. He spoke in frivolous minutaes, not fully conveying so the story to it’s full extent. Perhaps Hansen himself, was guarding a surreptitious and furtive secret. Perhaps, there was more to his story. “Why I found the hand whilst I was in one of the Sherpa’s village, and there in a monastery of Buddhist monks, was where the hand was given to me!” Sir Wellington then queried about the motive or inducement, in which the Buddhist monks would hand over such a precious relic to a stranger. “Do forgive me when I ask you professor, but if this hand belong to the monks, and I assume it was precious and sacred to the monks, why would they have it if it wasn’t? Then, how did it happen to be, that you now have possession of the sacred relic?” Hansen’s reply was, “Well I must say that I was not handed over the hand of the yeti, but instead unbeknown to them and to any others, I took it!” “Why your a genius professor! Hell, I would have done the same as well!” replied the fickle American. But, Sir Wellington who was a man who was a man which in slang could say, he was such a stiff bloke! For Sir Wellington felt the need to edify and enlighten his view of morality and ethics. “Good God old boy! That is loot and purloin!” But I interjected, “But Sir Wellington if you allow me to say, what he did what not pilfering. But instead the value and item that was taken, was for the advancement of science, and for the advancement of humanity!” “Nonsense! How can you equate this to the advancement of science, when the code of ethics has been broken, and I myself as a man of this such profession, can’t in one least moment, come to comprehend how on earth one can equate this to the good advancement of science or humanity!” It was then that Mr. Walters the American, responded with a certain hubris, and in a blasé manner. “Come now Sir Wellington, did not Charles Darwin himself create the theory of evolution, for the advancement of science and humanity?” It thence appeared that despite his objection, the American fellow had a good point. “Well I must admit, and I would be remiss, if I did not acknowledge the fact, that science and the advancement of it, is what is more epochal here!” It appeared to have brought out a dear chuckle not only in the rest, but also in good old Sir Wellington himself. Hansen, continued with the story, and after ending his tale, he left us all pondering the revelence of the story. For myself, it appeared to be indubitable but yet, there was yet a mystery about his story, and about this rather mysterious and primitive hand, that the professor brought back. Was I to believe that what the good professor brought back to the Western civilisation, was actually a real living hand, or was I was to believe that it was a forgery? And that the good professor, was a mere charlatan? But still I must confess and admit, that upon seeing it myself although from several feet away, it appeared to be original and real. There were so many inquiries and questions, to ask about the professor’s account of his story; but more importantly the relic itself! I like the others, were so extremely eager and anxious to begin our endeavour. That night, we spend the remainder of the night so, talking about good old ghost stories, until late that night when we all decided that it was best to sleep, and be ready for the trip through the Carpinthians and through the isolated areas of Europe, and ultimately through the exotic areas of India itself. I had thought, and pondered alot about this one chance. The opportunity of a life time, would be much to pass up!

(Rem-Must remember to ask Hansen about the Sherpa’s customs. I fear that I did not brush up on my complete knowledge of the area, and it’s peoples neither!”)

14 December 7:55-Morning arrived, and the next day had befalling upon us; and it was time to venture to the train station, and be aboard on our next train. We were running a bit late, and our train leaving from Geneva, was at approximately 8: 20. We all relatively managed to awaken our ownselves all all except Sir Wellington, who since he was an older fellow, was susceptible. He was also inclined to sleep for a long duration of time. I was forced to be, the one to awaken Sir Wellington. “Sir Wellington! Sir Wellington! Sir, it is time to depart!” Sir Wellington’s response would be a very grumpy and indurate response. “What! What is it?” After realising and seeing me standing infront of me, he then got himself groomed and so ready, for our departure from Geneva. When we arrived at the train station, we then all managed to get aboard and get our seats, with relative ease and succour. Once seated, I began to stare outside the good window, admiring the beautiful scenery, and the picturesque landscape of Switzerland itself. As we were departing and leaving Geneva, there was this lamenting feeling, and a sense of threnos that was installed in me, at that very moment as we were departing. I truly wanted, to see more of this beauteous and so pulchritudinous country and land but unfortunately, it would have to wait until next time. Now was time to head to Nepal, and find the mysterious so-called yeti!

10:05-Fortunately, we had arrived at the train station all of us excluding Sir Wellington himself, who almost appeared to not have made it on time. We gave our tickets to the man at the gate, and then we jump into the train itself and got our appropriated seats, and prepared ourselves for the long trip ahead. Luckily since we were able to arrive on time, we did not have to scram, and to scurry completely for our seats unlike some others. Once we were seated, and our luggage’s were nether and abreast to us, we sat down and waited for the journey to commence. You could hear the noise, and the commotion of a hectic rabble of people, who were scurrying for their dear seats. One would expect this sort of behaviour, in the process of a train departure. After a while, everything was settled, and the calm befell upon the train. 10:15-At last, the train’s engine would start, and the noise of the engine itself, almost deafened my ears. But luckily for me and the others, it would be temporary. It was indeed sad, much to my chagrin to see the Alps for one last time, at least for the time being. “So professor, are you ready for the trip? And are you awakened also sir?” I asked. Sir Wellington appeared still to be more than awakened. If I should say, he appeared to me to be more indolent, and less amenable to my question. I was forced to astir him. “Sir Wellington! Sir Wellington! I am so addressing you sir!” Abruptly Sir Wellington would awaken, and look my way. “Yes, what is old boy?” exclaimed Sir Wellington. “I didn’t mean to awaken you sir. Do forgive me so, but I just wanted to know, if you were awakened or not!” Sir Wellington seemed to be grumpy and chary in his ways; for it looked as if I had interrupted his tranquillity. “I am doing all right old boy, and if you don’t mind old boy, I would love dearly to get some needed much sleep; for at my good advanced age, one needs all the sleep that he can get!” I thought it wiser, to not interrupt Sir Wellington’s palatial sleep. I decided, to get some more sleep of my own. The trip to Nepal would be long. There was still several stops along the way, and the trip to Nepal, would even be more longer in duration.

As for the others, Mr. Walters and Professor Hansen, they were also resting and reposing in their own seats. Both Walkers and Hansen, were both closeby. Walters and Hansen were but a seated behind, Sir Wellington and myself. I did likewise need a good old sleep, I am afraid that we spent the whole night just about talking, about good old ghost stories. On one hand, I was to get some much needed rest for myself, but on the other hand, I was forsaking the chance to see more beautiful scenery or landscape. Soon we would pass through the remanding areas of vast Switzerland, and then through the Great Austrian-Hungarian Empire itself. It was at Vienna that we stopped, and the train would make a complete halt for it was there, that we would then so transfer at once, from one train to another. It was planned, that we would not stay nor spend the night in Vienna, instead we decided to transfer onto the next immediate train, which was thence apparently heading in an hour to Budapest. From there it was to go to Bucharest afterwards. After waiting an hour for our train to Budapest Hungary, we then were able to get on the train leaving for Budapest. Alas! We arrived a while later at the great and historical city of Budapest. Along the dear way, we began to pass through the great and long Carpethians mountains. Yes mountains, which lasted it seemed a dear aeon. Once we arrived to Budapest Hungary, we then had to wait and bide for another hour or so, for the next train. It was nearing sunset by now, as the train pulled into Budapest itself. After the wait for the next train heading toward Bucharest Romania approached, we then proceeded to ascend onto the train and once again, we were off to another unknown city, this time Bucharest. The Great Romania of the Roman Thracians, and the home of the infamous Vlad the Impaler. As we then headed toward Bucharest, we knew that we were now about to exit from one Great Empire and enter into another Great Empire. This one, was the Great Turkish Ottoman Empire. How Father once talked about the Great Turkish Ottoman Empire to me before, so many times to me that it was although redundant, it was still inurgorating and exciting to hear them all. We were taking a chance in passing through this part of the world. The Turks were less than receptive to the West, and in particular to bumbling and fastidious archaeologists like ourselves. Still, we had no other choice. We had to pass through the eastern part of the empire itself, in order to arrive at Calcutta, India. Once we arrived at the train station in Bucharest, we arrived in the downtown area of the city itself. As I descended along with the others, I could see the deep influence of the Turks on this primitive and chthonic city itself. For after all this, was the land of the Gypsies and the land of Old Transylvania itself. We were able to get lodging in one of the downtown hotels, apparently it was adjacent to a mosque itself. It was quite common, to see many mosques along the city itself. The hotel’s name, was Cerul Albastru. (Blue Sky)

Once at the hotel Cerul Albastru, we decided to strike up a chatty conversation amongst us again. “So how are you taking in the trip so far Sir Wellington?” asked Walters. Sir Wellington appeared to be cold, and I most confess myself that I too, found myself being dank and cold. What was evidently clear to me, was Romania was a cold and damp place. Not only was it hidden and kept from the rest of Europe, it was quite primitive and strange to a Westerner like myself. “I am a bit cold my boy, and I must admit that one at my age, has bones very bristle and crisp, as it seems!” Sir Wellington’s response would bring out a chuckled, and it would leave us cachinating all. “Is this your first time, here in this part of Europe Mr. Walters?” I inquired. Apparently it was indeed the first time that Mr. Walters, had himself ever been in this part of Europe, and in Romania in particular. “Well the truth be told it is! This is the very first time, that I have ever been in Romania. I had heard alot about this part of Europe. And I must say indeed, that I find this country, just like Hungary to be unique and full of tradition!” Walters also admitted, that it was the first time he had ever come across the legendary Turks as well. Walters then jestered by saying, “So tell me something Professor, what will we truly find once we arrive at Nepal?” He directed his question to Professor Hansen. I then paused before I asked, “Do you really believe that we will find the yeti out there once we arrive?” Hansen then responded succinctly, “Oh yes, I do believe that!” Those words, would ring hollow through the night in my ears, until I would awaken the very next morning.

15 December-I was awakened to the sound of the gunfire, and to the chattering of the others who were awakened like myself, by the gunfire outside of the old Cerul Albastru Hotel. “What is it Mr. Walters?” I asked. Mr. Walters would relay to me, “It appears so, that something must have happened outside in the streets, there appears to be some kind of raucous. I can see some soldiers outside!” I rose to my feet, and then much to my surprise saw, that good old Sir Wellington was not in the room and was missing. I thence asked Hansen and Walters, where was Sir Wellington at. They seemed to be much more occupied, with the incident happening outside then, where Sir Wellington had ventured to. I then thought it wiser, to find Sir Wellington on my own. I dare not think nor fathom the idea, that Sir Wellington perhaps, was somewhere outside in the middle of this bedlam. I was about to head downstairs, and search for Sir Wellington, when I heard him in the corridor there performing what appeared to me to be yoga, an Indian practice of meditation. “Sir Wellington, what are you doing sir? Forgive me sir, but I must admit that in all of these odd years since I know you, I have never seen you in this position sir!”

Sir Wellington appeared to be blasé to my dear intrigue. It was not after he had finished with his spiritual meditation that he answered me, and at last addressed me. “I do apologise if I startled you old boy, but since I had not finished with my meditation I could not speak to you. It would be so disrespectful, and the karma and nirvana would have dissipated, at that precise moment in which you were addressing me!” Just as I was conversing with Sir Wellington, another gunshot could be heard coming from outside of the Cerul Albastru Hotel. “What were those gunshots old boy?” exclaimed dear Sir Wellington. Not only was he intrigued, but so was I. “I don’t completely know except, that I was told by the others, that the gunshots were indeed coming, from outside the hotel building itself. What I was told, was that there were Turkish soldiers, outside of the hotel building itself indeed. There appeared to be a bedlam, or some kind of turmoil happening in the streets of the city!” Sir Wellington would respond, “I do hope that it doesn’t interfere with our schedule, and our train to Sofia for then our departure will not be hasty at all!” We then both headed out of the corridor, and back into the room in which the others, were congregated in. “So, what has thence happened with the activity on the streets professor?” I asked Hansen. His response was, “I don’t know, I believe there was a riot, or should I say a small riot; but I can’t be one-hundred percent certain that that is exactly what either happened, or is simply going on!” Sir Wellington, made a good point when he mentioned his concern and worriness about the situation out in the streets as it pertained, to our train departure from the city of Bucharest. “If there is but a riot going on here then, we will not perhaps be able to depart or leave this city on time. And we will then be forced to miss our train heading, for Sofia itself?” I replied.

“Instead of just standing, and doing nothing we should instead indeed, go downstairs and see what’s going on!” said dear Mr. Walters. Just as he was heading toward the door, I would quickly remind him, about the political situation. “Mr. Walters you can’t do that; for the Turks would not allow that. You would be immediately so, arrested for interfering, with their internal laws!” “What are you talking about?” asked Mr. Walters. Sir Wellington then interjected, “Why I am afraid, that he is right my dear boy! Why the Turks would see that, as blatant interference! You must understand that my dear boy, there is much that you do not know about this part of the world!” Professor Hansen, reminded us of something, that we had forgotten and that was the importance of getting on the train for our trip to Sofia. “I am afraid, that we must make our trip, for Sofia at once!” Hansen’s point was a good point, but unfortunately it would not be enough. We would not be able to leave the city of the Turks, due to the hectic situation in which it would cause, a crackdown in the city. We would be forced, to spend the night in the city of Bucharest itself. When morning came, luckily we were able to get permission from the Turks, to leave. It appeared the curfew of the night was lifted and thank God, we were able to get on the train to Sofia; and at last leave the turmoil of the city behind us. “What shall we expect, once we arrive in Sofia?” Shall we expect the same austere and strict behaviour by the Turks, when we arrive there?” I asked Sir Wellington. Sir Wellington’s response would be sufficient. “Egad! I believe that it perhaps may be the case with these people, but I do hope it be not like that for our own sake! If then, we will never be able to leave in time out of Sofia!” We then departed from Sofia Bulgaria, and in a matter of hours, we arrived at the capital city of Bulgaria. Fortunately for us, we would not have any incident with the Turks at Sofia. We were extremely fortunate to have departed in time, from the city of Bucharest. I would be told by a travelling Englishman, about the uprising and insurrection, happening there in Romania by the Romanians themselves. Sofia was not much different in size, nor nature than the city of dearest Bucharest except Sofia was more subdued, and the locals were more than submissive. They had very much begun to be assimilated, and converted into the Turkish way of culture and religion. For it was quite common ever more here than in Romania, to hear Turkish, being spoken by the locals. In Sofia we stayed at the local downtown hotel called the Bey Abdul Hamid, which was named after the Great Turkish Sultan himself thee Abdul Hamid, the secondth. After spending one night in Sofia, we thence left the next morning for our next destination which was to be, Port Said in Egypt. It was from Sofia itself, that we were to travel next there except not by train, but by boat through the Aegean Sea off the Bulgarian coastline. The plan, was to pass through the Suez Canal and then through the Red Sea in Africa then the Gulf of Aden, the Arabian Sea; and ultimately reaching the shorelines of India, and the mystical city of Bombay itself. 16 December-Slowly and Slowly, we eventually made it to Bombay, India. In all, the trip from England to India, would take approximately about a whole bloody week so! Along the way, it appeared that Sir Wellington, apparently had taken ill. Perhaps due to the climate along the way. He had been suffering, from the case of the flue bug it appeared. Once the ship arrived into the shorelines of Bombay, we then were forced to stay at least a day or night in the city of Bombay due of course, to the illness of Sir Wellington.

17 December 1:00 p.m.-We were at last able, to leave the city of Bombay. Sir Wellington’s condition would improve, and he would be fit and ready, to at last be ready for the trip to dear Calcutta. Calcutta itself was our next destination, it was from there, that we would depart to the old capital city of Nepal itself, which was the unknown city of Kathmandu.

1:00 a.m.- We at last were able to arrive at the great and very bustling city of Calcutta. Calcutta like Bombay was a great Hindu city, surrounded by Hindu shrines and temples. But what was much more prevalent, and made awared to me was that the streets of Calcutta, were filled with the many poor and desolate people of this city, and of this entire huge nation. In Calcutta, we spend the night again, in a local downtown hotel by the name of The Great Calcutta. I could see Britain’s influence here, even by the mere grandiose name itself. Dear India much like a portion of old Africa was predominately so, still a part of the Great English Empire. Of course, it would had been alot better, if we were able to pass through the Middle East itself in order to reach this desolate country, in a much more quicker manner. Unfortunately, due to the present tension and uprising taking place there recently, it was not recommended! 18 December-We left the confines and accouchement of Calcutta, and then headed for our final destination Kathmandu, Nepal. We started for our journey, and our trek to Kathmandu there in earnest. There we would be much closer to our final destination which was, Pokhara. Once at the border, we were able to pass with only a minor problem. It seemed that the Nepalese, were very strict about the foreigners and tourists, who entered into their kingdom. I must say, that the good Professor Hansen forgot to mention that one foible, and it was more than a mere minutiae. But in the end it would be all handled, and we would eventually be allowed to pass into Nepal. Late at night-After arriving at last, in the country of Nepal, we then decided to stay the night at a town called Kalaiya. I must say that being in this country so, is least than in the abattoirs of other mysterious Asian countries. We had trekked quite some distance, and time from Bombay, to our current location of Kalaiya itself. We were able to camp within the town, or should I say village. Because to me, it was no different than a village itself. Though the conditions here in Nepal were much like India, they were extremely primitive and chthonic, but much more outré. Unlike good India, this place or land, was more chatartic and less dishevelled, by the influences of the Great Western Empire. And I must confess that though Britain, has attempted so to reform much of India, it has failed miserably, in accomplishing much than rancour and wrath. Nepal itself, is a much more primitive and seclusive country. We spent the night in Kalaiya, chattering and also prating about such insipid things, ghost stories once again! It appeared, that every night was the same and ghost stories were part of the repertoire of the night, and of our stay along the way. We were to leave bright and early in the morning, and we were thus warned upfront that the journey would be tougher than before. For you see, we were forced upon our arrival to Kalaiya to finish the rest of the way, on what appeared to be a barrow of some sort.

19 December-I was awakened, by the noise of Sir Wellington’s meditation sessions, which I must say up to this point, were becoming more than casual and so extemporaneous. To the Nepalese themselves, he was indeed seen as almost a fellow Hindu or Buddhist. Still we were on this trek, and we were off to the next destination which would be our final destination, the great unknown town of Pokhara. The people of the region of the south were mostly Hindus, and their culture, was much more aligned to the Indians of India itself. The place and region of the town in which we were to go next to were mostly related, and kins to the Tibetans and the mighty Mongolians themselves, than the Hindus. The people of the northern region were known, as the Great Sherpas themselves. Along with another clan the Gurkhas. The Sherpas, were so widely known amongst the western world. We passed along the way through the towns of Gam, Bhimphea, Patan; ultimately arriving at our final destination of the remote town of Pokhara. We arrived at Pokhara, during the eventide. And once we arrived at the remote town of Pokhara, Professor Hansen knew of where, we were to stay the night. Since he had already been in this area before, he steered us to the house and home of one of the local Sherpas. The man who was to be our host was a man by the name of Genghis, apparently he was named after the Great Mongolian Emperor Genghis Khan. Genghis, was the youngest brother of Sherab, the translator of Professor Hansen. Although Professor Hansen had a translator, he had study enough and learned enough of the local language, to be able to speak it fluently or so. Sherab, I was told by the professor was to arrive back home morrow in the early morning. We spent the night talking instead about our ghost stories, we instead talked about the stories of the infamous yeti around the fireplace which was in the middle of the home, of which was more of a Mongolian hut than a house. I must say, upon hearing the translations of the dear Sherpa’s chilling stories of the creature, it did impressed me and fascinated me. I could feel the seriousness and the vividness in the eyes of the Sherpa. That night, I truly spent the night staring at the impressive sight of the Great Himalayas from afar. I must remember to take as many photographs as possible of course if the weather permits it so. It was cold and damp, and one was forced to adjust to the lifestyle of these people. For here, there were truly no modern conveniences here, as one from the west is accustomed to. After an hour, I then retrieved for the night, excited and upwinded about the prospect of what was to become on our journey to the Great Himalayas, themselves. That night I pondered, cudgelled in my mind, the one constant lingering thought of was there somewhere out in the midst of all the mass of the mountains, this race or ilk of beast so unknown and so undiscovered. A race of creatures, who were out there ready to be discovered.

20 December-I was awakened by the sound of the whistling cold wind, and by the sound of the others, who were awaken already. I so apparently had overslept a bit, and perhaps due to my anxiety and inquisitive mind. I soon was able to get dressed after washing up. I encountered the others outside of the hut, conversing amongst them. “I see, that you are finally awaken my dear boy!” commented Sir Wellington. I looked at him with a rather amazement. “Do forgive me so Sir Wellington for it appears, that I overslept I believe!” Hansen was talking with Genghis and another man who I believe, was his older brother Sherab. The same Sherab, who journeyed with Hansen on his first expedition here. Walters was also present and was nearby.

After several minutes passed by, it was now settled and planned. We were finally much prepared and more than ready, to head into the Himalayas and begin our trek and search for the unknown beast known, as the yeti. We started with our journey, and if the altitude of this place or village was high in altitude already, indeed the climb up the Himalayas, was even much more higher in altitude. We were to venture to the mountains, called the Himalchull. The Himalchull were as I was told, approximately some 7854 ft. in height. “Well gentleman, I do believe that our journey for the yeti, commences now!” Hansen eloquently put it. The one constant image I had of this place and of the mountains themselves, was that it was extremely damp and cold; but not compared to the cold that was to lay ahead up above, our appointed destination. The team itself was eight in total. It was consisted of dear Professor Hansen, Professor Walters, Sir Wellington, Sherab and three other Sherpas and at last myself. We all were dressed appropriate for the occasion, and we all had our gear and packs ready as well. To see the great impressive sights of the mountains was indeed, remarkable and indelible. For such a prodigious view of nature’s greatest beauty, was so magnificent and so magniloquent to put in words. For indeed Father, would have been so appreciative, and would have marvelled of this.

12:00 p.m.-We had decided after climbing for at least four hours, that we would rest and take in some lunch for the midday. I must admit that I am quite nervous, and a bit tired and so fatigued upto now. For I must confess as well, that it is not often that a man like myself, goes climbing up high and steepy mountains such as these. “Great God! I am so fatigued and wearied, this trip appears to be long and arduous already!” exclaimed Sir Wellington. “Come now Sir Wellington, we have barely but just begun on this expedition, and you are already complaining! I would hate to think what you would feel, if we had to make it to the top!” It seemed to bring out, an abrupt laughter in all of us except Sir Wellington. Since he was old and much conservative, he did not understand the mockery. “I fail to truly see, the blinning jestering out of this!” It was then that I interjected, with a sense of soothing the umbrage of Sir Wellington. You can say, that I tried to put everything into prospective. “Calm down Sir Wellington, you must not overreact nor must you be a prune. There was no ill will attended, by Professor Walters!” I then turned to Walters and said, “Is that not so Professor Walters?” Walters would only acquiesce, with my analogy. “Of course I didn’t mean any malice, heck I was trying to convey the point, that there was still along way to go, before we would reach our destination!” “The yeti professor?” I asked Hansen. Just as serious my inquiry was to Hansen, even more serious and poignant, would be his response. “I can only say what I know and believe in my heart, and that is that somewhere there amongst these mountains, is not only a creature, but perhaps a whole species of these creatures. They are creatures who perhaps are waiting for us to come!” He then paused before he uttered, “Or it is possible, that instead of it being the hunted and the prey, it could be us in the end, who are the hunted and the prey?” The wind was picking up and the winter breeze, was becoming more colder by the minute. The temperature itself was also billowing, the prospect of it thence lowering was a grim reality.

“We better finish up here, we still have several hours, before we shall make camp. I have failed in mentioning so, that there is a disadvantage here. The disadvantage is, that the sun in this part of the region is very brief. I am afraid, that there is an advantage in that the sun rises much earlier here, than and any other area of the world. But the disadvantage is that the sun sets much earlier here and we shall not have much day light, to truly assist us on this expedition!” Hansen’s comments and poignant words, were to be hearkened to. I could see the seriousness, in his old cogent eyes.

1:00 p.m.-We were once again on our way, but my question, was to where were we off? It appeared to me, that the mountains themselves seemed endless and never-ending. We climbed and trekked up more and more, through the perilous and dangerous portions of the mountains, knowing fully well that at any time, the prospect of danger was real and deep inside of all of us, existed the prospect of finding the beast along the way! The thought, did not escape my mind at all. I was fully aware and cognisant about the enormous and treacherous task that was before us. The more we climbed, the more colder it got. And the more windy it became as well. But still, aside from the temperature, and the other weather nuisances the trek had to continue.

5:00 p.m.-We decided to rest once again, and to eat as well. It had been close to four hours now, since we last stopped. At last previously Sir Wellington was spent, effete but I must report, that this time he decided not to display it, instead he chose to demonstrate a short of bravura in order to tame our inquiries. I could sense that the wear and tear, was taking an effect on him, but I chose to speak with him in privacy about the matter. “Sir Wellington, are you feeling well, or is there something that is bothering you?” I asked. Sir Wellington was pale and gaunt but yet, he was still fiddly and cogent, in his desire to continue with the expedition. “No my dear boy, I am doing just fine!” I then expressed to him my concern and preoccupation, for his health and for his present condition. “Are you certain Sir Wellington? For I see a man who looks a tad bit more than just weary! Are you not certain that you are not sick, or have taken ill sir?” Sir Wellington’s response was chivalrous and direct. “No my dear boy, for my health is excellent, and I am as robust and hale as a young man much like yourself!” If it wasn’t for the reason, that he was an acquaintance and an honourable and esteemed man, I would have had thought of him to be mad and too sober, in his manhood. “All right Sir Wellington, I shall not question your health indeed anymore!” I thought it best to not be disingenuous and disrespectful as well. So I conceded and allowed his sense of vainglory to take precedence, at least for the meantime. Although I accepted Sir Wellington’s dubious and louche interpretation, I still maintained a sense of concern, and of apathy for him.

5:30 p.m.-We had decided that we had no other choice, but to trek no more. The sun was so setting and without the light of the sun, we had no other choice but to make camp here at our present position. “I am afraid my fellow peers, that we shall have to camp here for the night so. Tomorrow morning we shall depart early, there is much to travel and trek on this expedition!” I spend the night along with the others, hovering and warming myself indeed around the campfire and the comfort of my thick blankets. I headed for the accouchement of my tent at last, bearing a lantern for light. I had the need to continue with my journal, and to write my entry for this night.

Though I have only been here on this journey but a day, I wonder and cudgel, about what would the next day behold and bestow upon us all; especially for Sir Wellington, who appeared to be getting worser by each and every stoppage. I pray to God that at least, I will not have my mentor Sir Wellington, withered and so faltered as well along the way if so, it would mean that he would be forced to abandoned the expedition, and return back to the Sherpa village. Back to merry old England, without having to even descry at the appearance, and guise of the creature. It would then mean complete disaster for him, a cataclysm if I should admit. I would indeed much hate and loathe to see such a brilliant and reputable man, who for so many of his multitudinous years as a scientist and archaeologist, had been searching for the primitive ape, have to abandon the search. For the yeti itself, was just the treasure that he was searching, and culling for as well. I commiserate him, for his own enemy in this endeavour was his advancing age. But I commend him on his spirit, and will to succeed. I must confess and admit, that I have seen alot on this dear journey, since I first left London. And I must confess equally, that London itself my beloved home, was on my mind more and more. I shall have to be much more adroit and deft in not showing my nostalgia. For I must instead focus, on the task at hand. I must remember and recall always, my duties to my dearest profession and above all, my duty to science itself! I am so weary and very fagged, the day like today shall be long and arduous

21 December-I was awakened by the noise of the activities of the others. I was awaken to a cup of tea and a good biscuit, and a good delicious and delectable bap. I must confess, that I awoke today feeling much better than the day before though the day was still cold, and the wind was still bustling and active. “Are you all ready my friends to continue today, we shall make it up to a place where there, there shall be an orifice or aperture leading into a clandestine cave of some sort. There we shall make camp for the night. I do promise that at least there, we shall be much more comfortable and so warm as well!” Hansen shouted to us, he was forced to shout in order for him to be heard. Not only was the temperature extremely irascible, but the height and dear altitude, was now becoming a willing participant in this endeavour. We were nearing nearly two thousand feet in altitude upto now and of course, the more that we so climbed, and the more that we ascended, meant the more dizzy and weak we would ultimately begin to appear and be. I was able to see Sir Wellington, and I could see that he was hurting and writhing in pain. But cursed it be for his pride and my willingness and compliance in seeing him succeed.

12:00 p.m.-We have stopped for the moment to eat and drink, and more importantly, to rest and recompose ourselves. For it was indeed necessary to have our complete faculties and equanimity in tact. I stayed in awareness, and cognisance of the present condition of Sir Wellington looking for any clew or inkling of whether or not, he was hurting and writhing, even more than before in pain. I could see him begin to cough more and more. I had noticed it since the morning in which we departed earlier today but it seemed, that he was becoming more and more sicker and thus afflicted. I chose discretion, in talking to him about it. “Sir Wellington, please let me, check on your status sir?” Sir Wellington would have no part of it. “By no means! I am doing all right old boy. It’s nothing except a tad of the influenza that’s all, my dear boy!” I thought it best to not just stand there and refute and argue with Sir Wellington. It would stir his passion, even more.

“All right Sir Wellington, I shall not query anymore so about your health, but under one condition!” Sir Wellington would say, “What condition, are your inferring about my dear boy?” “Under the condition, that if you are to get any sicker, and you feel that your health is indeed so deteriorating then, please allow me to at least check the status of your health!” I replied. It would appear that Sir Wellington at least conceded and acquiesced in that, and consented to my noble suggestion as well. Even though, it seemed to me, that he was reluctant and hawed at first. “All right my dear boy, I shall at least oblige you in that request. And I must dearly respect you, your concern my dear boy. I shall take your concern for me dearly!” Thank God for the rashents and nourishment, that we had packed and stored with us upon this trip. But I must say so, that there would come perhaps a day in which our rashents, would be running low and depleting. I shall hope that, that day does not come soon. I dread the thought of being starved and parched out here, in the middle of nowhere. For civilisation, as I knew of it was from here, many and many miles away! I often wondered, how endless and how never-ending, these wretched mountains seemed to be though it had only been our second day, only on this harsh expedition. Thank God for my bickiers and for my tea. It would not be the same, without them!

1:00 p.m.-We left our present position, and once again continued with the expedition. I was told by Hansen that our next destination or should I say, our next resting place, would be the hovel itself. At least, I have the comfort of knowing that. I must be off now, Hansen has told me, that we must leave now!

6:00 p.m.-We at last arrived at the location in which the orifice of the cave was at, but we truly couldn’t find the wretched hovel at all! “Egad! What are we to do next Professor Hansen?. It is blooding cold to be standing out here!” I exclaimed. Hansen was indeed puzzled and bemused. Despite the fact that he had been on this route, he appeared to have been surprised to not find the aperture leading into the cave. “I don’t understand, the opening leading up to the cave, must be closeby but yet, I can’t understand why we can’t find it!” He consulted with Sherab the Sherpa, about the location of the cave. After several minutes, Hansen would relay to us, that the cave was nearby; but we would have to search. Hansen also stated the fact, that it was so common, for the snow to cover up any known opening of caves around this region. Hearing Hansen’s reply, was quite feasible and logical though I had wondered why, wasn’t this mentioned to the rest of us all? I had begun to detect and realise that Hansen had a knack and tendency, to be less than honest and earnest with us. After looking and looking around the area, we finally at last were able thus to locate the cave. Apparently it was a mile away from the present position, that we were in thus. Apparently thank God for the Sherpas it was one of them, who was able to find and locate the blinning cave in the first place. Unfortunately, though we were extremely fortunate in finding the cave, we would discover that upon our arrival the cave, would not be lorn or indeed abandoned; but already occupied. When we arrived at the cave, we found the presence of several men who apparently was not only occupying the cave, but were on a foray of their own. Much unbeknown to us was the fact, that they were soon to be a part of our expedition. When we had so entered inside the cave, we were met by a fellow who apparently was a guard posted. He was a fellow Sherpa, but he was not a Sherpa from the same village of Sherab, nor from the very same village that we had started our expedition from.

Not only would we be so aback and startled to find the presence of others in the cave already, but to be greeted with a rifle by a fellow Sherpa, was also startling. Sherab, was sent by Hansen to speak with the Sherpa who was posted as a guard. After a couple of several minutes transpired, Sherab would return and relay to us the news and tidings, that there were others truly. Another expedition crew who was on the same mission as we were. We were allowed, and then permitted to reach the encampment of the Sherpa’s masters. When we arrived at the camp, we were met by the presence of the Great Austin Fuller, who was a Texan from the States. A hunter for that matter, and a dear reputable and prodigious man. His reputation and his name alone, was known throughout the world. He had trophies from Africa, to the great shores of South America. “Good afternoon, I am a glad to see that you all have arrived in remarkable good health, and if I should say so early!” I then answered, “You are Mr. Austin Fuller, the great hunter from dearest America; for your reputation precedes you Mr. Fuller!” He then seemed to gloat, and become even more vain. “I reckon I should accept that, as a compliment professor. Heck! I can’t think of any way to describe me, than in that way!” The hunter replied. Indeed, it was not only surprising to see such an austere and forlorn man such as this American cowboy, but also it was galling, to hear him gloat and bray about his fame, and his trophies of success. Unfortunately for us, we were forced to be amenable to the offer, that was given to us by this hunter Mr. Fuller. The American Daniel Boone, as I equated him to. His attire was more of that of the very suave, and debonair General Custer. When asked about his interest in coming to the country of Nepal, and thus to the Great Himalayas themselves, Fuller responded by saying, “Why I reckon I came to this place to find exactly the same thing, that you’ll came here for!” He then paused for a moment before he uttered. “The critter, called the yeti!” Since we were short of men, we were not able to obtain enough men, Hansen reluctantly agreed. He stated to me later that his primary objective, was to bring back a body of one of the creatures preferably, a living creature. I on the other hand, felt that it was rude and insolent for Hansen to acquiesce with this hunter, but who was I to make arrangements? I felt that it was as if we, were making a pact with the devil. Sir Wellington, had agreed with Hansen. To him it did not matter whether or not, we had more people or not in this endeavour. Because to him what was important, was at last finding the creature. We spent the night around the campfire which at times seemed so scant, having a parley with the Texas hunter himself, who was a character himself. He was a man from what I would be told by one of his men, a man who slept with his long and black boots, which had pointed sharp silver tips at the end of them and he strangely enough, slept with his Colt forty-five by his side. He had long whiskers as a moustache, but I must attest they appeared to be cat whiskers, and he bore a beard which was definitely well shaved and primed. Though Hansen and Sir Wellington confined in him, I on the other hand, did not trust or confine in the noble intentions of the Texan. Au contraire, I thought and perceived of this man to be selfish and egotistical. I could not forget the notion of his true intentions, but more importantly, what was to become of Hansen’s intimate allegiance with the Texan, once the creature was discovered? The question was simply, would the Texan truly keep his word and not, deceive and cajole us? Accompanying the Texan, were a couple of other interesting characters themselves. There were, several trappers from the south of America, and a Negro from the Zulu Tribes of Africa, and a Cree Indian from North America.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)-Continued

22 December-I awoke to the sounds of gunfire. I was to discover the Texan to be outside, along with his men shooting unbelievably at game, that seemed to be creatures so-called Yaks, which were prevalent and abundant in this area despite the altitude of the wretched mountains. It thus seemed that to this man, cruelty to animals was so insignificant, and a much common routine for him. Barbarity of this nature was as casual and extemporaneous, as pleasure itself. I must indeed confess that I have no quarrel with hunters who must hunt prey for food, but to hunt prey for but mere sport is nothing, but a dastardly act of bravura! I as well felt that the sound of gunfire truly, would perhaps alert the creatures of our presence. “Good God, what is that gunfire?” I asked. The Texan just looked at me and said, “That’s me Mr. Bunburry!” I then made my objection of this act known to this man. “Egad, why in the blooding hell I pratell, are you doing shooting at random? Don’t you know that the creatures could hear the gunfire and besides, don’t you have any compassion in your heart for these animals that you shoot at?” The good Texan along with his other buffoons, would mock me. “Are you a cotton picking serious Mr. Bunbury? Are you insulting me and my men for taking part in a good old fashion sport? I do reckon they are a bit yellow belly in England, and wouldn’t know how to cowtie, any varmint in the west!” I stuck out my chest, as if to be more manly and stoic than him. It was a display of bravura in my part so, although I truly meant every blooding word that I meant. “Of course not, I would never indulge myself to steep that low! I only was stating my aperçu and notion, that is all sir!” After my odd incident with the good Texan, we left for our next destination. But not before we had breakfast, and I along with Sir Wellington, had some tea which mercifully, we still had truly in abundance. Unfortunately, I am running low in bickers itself and it does not help, that there is not true heat here at all. And neither does the cold and frigid atmosphere in the air, soften it’s texture upon one. Though we could have reached our destination in a shorten amount of time, I thought it prudent and snator of us to continue with the designated course after all, we were trying to find the elusive yeti itself. Not only were we attempting to reach our destination, we were trying to cover one area to another area during this trek. Fortunately, Sir Wellington’s condition at least was improving; but though only temporary and momentary. I was grateful and I imagine so was Sir Wellington that despite being up in altitude, the temperature at least for today, is bidfair and decent. But for how long I query? I don’t believe nor fathom the concept, that the temperature and weather, shall be that bidfairing for long. I am not sure, where we shall be departing next to. Hansen has not told me yet. But I pray that it would be as cozy and quaint, as our encampment from last night. I fear and dread only that the more that we travel, and the higher we climb and ascend, the least comfort and solace we would encounter and find, within these wide and these never-ending rows of mountains. I yearn for the Daily Gazette! I confess that the newspapers, which I have are old and out of date. For one yearns, for the simple commodities of life.

1:00 p.m.-We have been travelling and climbing more and more, and we have as usual stopped to take our needed break for lunch as customary; but already there is a quarrel and dispute there between Hansen and the Texan. Mr. Fuller, preferred that we still kept on climbing and trekking.

It seemed to me not only, was this Texan much too arrogant and hubris; but seemly much egotistical as well. I could see Hansen state to him directly and much clearly, that if he desired to differ with what he himself along with Sir Wellington and myself agreed to then, it would be so much better that he along with his men depart from the camp at once, and had gone on with the journey on their own lest, they tergiversated. I could see the displeasure and discordance in the face and expression of the haughty Texan, but I knew in the end he would acquiesce, since I got the clear feeling that he needed us much more, than we needed him and his men. I knew also by making a pact with this selfish lout, it was again as if, making a pact with the devil. After thence realising that he was forced to acquiesce and concede, reluctantly he conceded to Hansen’s dear demand and stipulations. After a palave, it was agreed that we would do it according to Hansen’s way of doing things. Sir Wellington appeared to be regressing a bit in his condition, but I thought it wiser, to keep my comment to myself at least for the time being. He decided to rest a bit, while Hansen and myself decided to have a bavardage, with the insipid Texan cowboy, and his bumptious clan of misfits. “So it must be bizarre and strange for a man like you, to be up here in this blazing cold and frost Mr. Fuller?” I asked him. The Texan’s response was stoic and gallant, but I must admit to me it was mere bravura. Although he negated and denied his discomfort and had pounds of heavy clothing on I could tell, that he was not so pleased nor fond of my question. “Why I reckon that a man like myself though being born in an extremely hot climate, I have become quite accustomed to all types of weather, from hot to cold. For you see my dear Englishman, when your a worldly known like myself,” I could see him grin as if he was smug, and more than coy. “Weather like this, is no problema at all! Chucks, I reckon that a man like myself, doesn’t care a lick, about any type of weather! You see my Englishman, all that I give a hoot about, is finding and then capturing that darn varmint! You see, I am like a wrangler, who knows how to tame any wild stallion!” He then smoked his pipe, and then blew the air into my face, as if to mock me. I found his brogue, to be quite galling and his machismo, to be festering. I had to ask him about what was he to do, after he found and captured the illusive creature. “If you don’t mind me querying, what exactly do you plan on doing once you have truly found, and captured the creature?” He then stared into my eyes and exclaimed, “First we have to find the darn thing, before we could think about what comes after!” he smiled then. I could see definitely in his eyes, the response that he wanted to utter to me one which said, “I will of course kill it, and bring it back as a personal trophy!” I saw that reply in the depth of eyes so, and in the manner he raised his eyebrows. I had no doubt in my mind, nor did Hansen or Sir Wellington, that what this bloody American wanted, was to ultimately kill and then who knows, skin the dear creature and then take it back to America as a bloody trophy.

2:00 p.m.-We left the camp and headed back up to the mountains. I was told by Hansen, that our next stoppage, would be next to a cliff or precipice. I write this entry, not knowing but instead so wondering, about what was to be instored for us. The more and more, that I think about that dear question, the more that I dreaded that cursed question.

7:00 p.m.-We arrived with darkness now surrounding and encompassing us not before, I stared so vividly and limpidly at a rare sight, the beautiful setting of the Nepalese sun. It was refreshing to have witnessed, such a doggerel and trivial experience like that, but it was truly wholesome.

Sir Wellington seemed to be tired and fatigue, so he withdrew for the night, while we and the others conversed. It was indeed odd to see an array of characters who were accompanying the Great Texan, especially in this forsakened weather. I must confess that I had never met in person an actual Indian, and an African all in one place. “It is bloody cold up here Professor Hansen!” I exclaimed. Hansen’s response was, “I know, but there is nothing that one can do, except try to keep warm and pray that the fire, will not be extinguished!” It seemed to bring out a laughter in all of us, for we all cachinnated in his jester so. We spent the night talking about, ravening about the old campfire stories. Despite the cold, Mr. Fuller and his band of misfits, found it no problem to drink tequila, and smoke costly Cuban cigars throughout all the night. Infact, it was becoming customary to hear these fools, spend almost the entirety of the night carousing in their own broad diversion and frolic. I must say that I could hear them loud and clearly, although apparently Sir Wellington and Hansen along with Professor Walters, don’t find it unbearable. Infact I can often hear the voice of Walters prancing with them. I guess even out here in the middle of nowhere, a pair of characters like these can’t be stopped, from parading around in liquor. I can thus imagine already Sir Wellington’s notion, to my concern, “Why it’s only lads, being lads there my boy!” Then again, I felt that perhaps I was becoming much outré, with my limited generalisation. I must concentrate so about the matter at hand, but my intuition cannot make me oversee nor auger, the true intentions of this Texan rogue.

23 Dec-Hansen has confided to me along with Sir Wellington, about the interesting tid bit, that we are to arrive before sunset perhaps finally at last to the final destination in a mountain, which will be our final encampment. Upon hearing that possible good news, I must say I am thus more than mere fain; but staring at these bloody long and broad mountains, along with the weird but howling and gusting wind, made me quickly surmise the reality of our quandary. I must confess that being uphere one’s own ears without to some extent ear plugs, could burst one’s eardrums. Night and day, one could hear attentively and whistedly, the sound of the bustling wind, which echoed my God all ever these wretched steps that I treaded upon. It is quite easy to shout and scream one’s own name outloud for the altitude uphere, can be one’s own. I do believe that it might be the cause for Sir Wellington’s apparent sign of illness. I could thus indeed see dear Sir Wellington, already scowl at the analogy of mine. It would be a blunder of mine to be indiscreet.

1:08 p.m.-Once again, we have stopped and halted, for our customary break. I ponder on the thought of not mentioning, our daily stoppage. I feel that it is becoming tedious, and much too heathered. But since although it be redundant and excessive to utilise the same type of words in reference to our daily stoppage, it would be extremely brickish of me so, to not convey in full entirety of my daily life here in Nepal, and on this particular journey.

(Mem-I must indeed find new words to utilise, and be much more creative for if not, it would only tell on me!)

We have gathered all of us together where an hour passed midday, to share some good stories around the campfire. I must admit, that I find Walters to be as one says, a very pawky old chap. I also must admit, that I do not find him to be much more fustian nor chary. He is not saucy as Mr. Fuller. “I was in Africa just a recently on one of my safaris, there in the continent. I do reckon, that many would be envious of me. But I must do what a man in my position would do, and that is to tame the most wildest beast, that goes a lurking out there in the world!”

“What is it, that you exactly do on these safaris Mr. Fuller?” asked Sir Wellington. Mr. Fuller, looked a bit amused by Sir Wellington’s inquiry; but he politely responded and replied to his question. “Well, let’s just say my dear good Sir Wellington, that I didn’t go there, to go and play with the cheetahs!” It seemed to bring out a laughter in most of us. He then puffed a puff from his Cuban cigar, and then said, “Why in all seriousness Sir Wellington, I went to Africa to catch one of the most illusive critters in Africa, the leopard!” He then, began to be much more descriptive, and vivid in his manner of speaking. “I had spotted a leopard on a hot and warm day. After searching for this critter for about an hour, I caught a sight of it up in a tree. I then cocked the rifle back, and then you know what I did next?” He then hawed, before he uttered outloud. “Boom! Leopard dead!” Everyone burst out in laughter once again, everyone but Sir Wellington and myself. I personally, did not find any humour with that last comment instead to me, it was more a miff to me. Instead of making my objection and displeasure with his sarcastic satire known to him, I fancied the idea of restricting my comment to myself, for the moment. I could see the odd distaste, in the eyes of Sir Wellington as well. “I must say my dear Mr. Fuller, must you be so melodramatic in your candour?” It seemed to catch Mr. Fuller the Great Texan icon, by surprise. For he appeared to be surprised, upon hearing Sir Wellington’s diatribe. I wasn’t sure what he was going to reply. “Well, if I have seemed to offended your nobleness then, let me apologise Sir Wellington!” I was surprised by his comment, though I felt a bit of cynicism in his remark. I was not completely sure, that he was sincere and bathos in his lukewarm apology. I must admit, that even though Professor Walters and Mr. Fuller were both Americans, there was at least in my eyes, a bit of a difference between the two. Professor Walters, was much more swish in his dear demeanour at least in the greater sense and on the other hand Mr. Fuller, was much more indeed egregious and so bloody scurrilous. Let me not forget the words, pompous and arrogant! 7:00 p.m.-At last thank God we have arrived at our final destination, and it was determined and decided, that henceforth from this exact place, we were to embark on our mission and trek in finding the illusive creature known as the yeti. How my back and feet ache and writhe, and how I find myself shuddering and shaking from the cold. I have now begun to doubt whether or not, it was correct and wise, to have made this journey especially to this wretched remote area. I have since wondered and cudgelled this thought, especially during today’s journey. I am worry and solicitous, about the current and present condition of Sir Wellington. He seems, to be not well. I can sense the deterioration, in his appearance somatically. He reflects the guise of a codger or gammer. He appears lymphatic in movement, and daft in sense and nous. It does so harrow me, especially a man who I have admired for yonks! I do dread that the snow has started to become a hindrance, and a bloody nuisance as well. I can’t even fathom, what is to become of the days ahead, if it is already so cold and dank uphere? I have occasionally found myself thence, peering down below at the plateau, and of the movement of life. Wretched be, that the only thing one sees, is an occasional yak and once in a while, a Sherpa roaming about with his yak. Hansen had warned us about the temperature and the weather, but he did not warned us indeed, about the solitude and the encarcilation one feels uphere, at an altitude where objects are but mere specks of dust. “So, this is where we are to finally camp at, and find this critter Danishman?” asked the domineering Texan.

Hansen’s reply was, “Ja, this is where we are to make our fixture and encampment at! From here gentlemen, we will look from every crevice or rock for the yeti!” He then, pointed around the area and mountainous region and said, “Here around us, skulks the illusive creature called the yeti. This is where I spotted the creature at, and this is where I hope that we will find him alive!” Mr. Fuller then made the comment, “Are you telling me that this remote and much forsaken place, is where we will find the darn critter at Danishman?” Hansen would reply, “Ja, my dear Texan! This is where we must look for the creature and only here, will we be able to locate this indelible and incredible creature Mr. Fuller!” Mr. Fuller, did point out an interesting question. “If you don’t mind me asking, I ain’t counting on finding the critter on my own, where exactly did you a spot the critter at?” Hansen’s reply, would be short. “I spotted the creature somewhere around her Mr. Fuller, and that is all unfortunately that I can truly say, at the very moment. You’ll just have to take my word for it because, I am afraid that you don’t have any other choice at hand, or do you?” Mr. Fuller knew once again, that he had to be submissive and without Hansen, he could not locate the creature just yet. I could see through his tactics and his scheme, but I was not so completely certain nor sure of what exactly was in his cards to play. For his mien was obvious to detect, but I wondered at times, was it intentional or merely deceptive? I often cudgelled this one thought. We spent the night resting and being acquiescent, saving our energy and our strength for tomorrow; for the day would be long and arduous. As I stand near the ridge of the mountain, I glance below and then I glance above. There below me is the flat plateau, and there above me, is the summit of the peak of the mountains themselves. To me, they appear to be so oblong and so daunting. The cold and the weather are becoming much more unbarring and forlorn. I can feel the chills of the wind as they pierce through my scarf and through my goat skin hat. I can feel the dankness of the snow, as it penetrates through my boots, and through my three pair of socks and stockings. It left me deep without thought itself, and it replaced the sheen that I had. It was no longer stirring and upwinding to be here, it was now becoming a strain on me. As I straddled and stood, I only could ponder on what was to hold for us, in the oncoming days? Though, the cold was harsh and the snow was abundant, I realised fully well that I had to be much more brave and stoic in my resilience and penchant to succeed. I could see from here stratums of hardened rock itself, covered by the white dank snow which permeated through the region. I had never seen such broad and magnificent mountains like these before. I was use to seeing hills and knolls. There were not many gaps and interstices here at all, and the land was disguised with the superfluous amount of snow which landed plentifully onto the ground surface, and onto the mountain itself. I was abutted by Walters, who had seen me standing there. “Dear “Professor Bunbury, why are you standing over here? Why are you not with the others back at the campfire?” I sheered, “Do forgive me for my indiscretion Professor Walters, but I do often in myself compelled only in privacy to reflect and ponder upon my own thoughts and feelings. I often surmise that in that manner alone, I am capable and able to be much more creative, and much more in tune with my innerself.” He replied, “Well, I must confess Professor Bunbury, that I too seek privacy to be able to think much more clearly, and to be able to solve truly whatever problems that fall upon me!” He offered me a kettle of coffee and a biscuit also. I in return then offered him a kettle of tea, and some of my remaining bickiers as well. He seemed to be indeed receptive and amenable to my offering, and I to his.

Thus, we both headed back to the camp but not before we both stared out at the open land, that was the area of these mountains. And at the peak of the mountain in which we were it’s occupiers or invited guests. “It’s magnificent, and incredible isn’t it Professor Bunbury?” asked Walters. “By Jove, your right dear boy, it is such a wonderful and palatial sight to see and descry at. I can only wish that it wasn’t so cold and dank uphere, and my toes and fingers along with my ears ache, and are writhed in time! I often must palter and sidle to keep warm, and to maintain the blood circulation that is necessary to flow through my entire body. And I must say, that I find myself even standing here very sulked and enmeshed in this whole reality, that is but the present reality in which we find ourselves so, presently in!” Walters, made his displeasure known to me about the same things, that I was confronting. “Your right Professor Bunbury, it is so damn cold uphere, and the damn snow does not offer one much compensation neither. I fear that if the dear snow doesn’t slush then, were in for one hell of a show! But we have to truly, make the most of the situation that were in, regardless if we like it or not!” I thought about how could one slumber in this condition, and in this harsh surrounding. I guess Walters was correct and right when he stated, that we were to make the most out of the situation, that we were enmeshed and intertwined in. How strange, was it to come out of the lips of Walters, since he was mostly situated and use to the hot weather, and sun of good old sunny California. We returned to camp, where we joined the others. We spent the remainder of the night talking about what were we to find uphere, in this desolate and lorn place. I dare say that, this place is a Bethel in itself. Wretched be, it’s so barmy and whipster to say that; but then again, I would be a fool and an idiot if I did not. One by one, we confessed our hidden secrets and thoughts. I could sense this hwyl gush exude out of all of us, as we spoke. As I heard these dear testimonies, I cowered with the prospect of actually dying or krunging uphere, though I was but somewhat crestfallen to admit it. The cold went on even though I be bundled up, and furled as well. It was a cold frill, to say it. I could not fudge myself. I was not gauded, nor did I have any furore in this reality. I felt as the cold struck me as if I was wrinkling, and furrowing much like a prune would. Indeed my garb was not garbling, for it was enough. Time is so germane here, and to not acknowledge it, would be uttermost giddy. The sunlight does glitter so and shimmer, and even it glints for a time. But as be a lad in sufficient amount of clothing I cannot forget, to look aimlessly at the apex up above, truly it abodes in my mind at will. “So, what do you think we’ll find out there lurking about, Professor Hansen?” inquired Walters. Hansen’s response, was rather subtle, “I don’t really know Professor Walters, I can only avow, that somewhere amongst these very own mountains, lays the creature called, the yeti!” I then directed my question to Mr. Fuller, the pompous Texan. “So tell me something Mr. Fuller, how many cheroots do you smoke daily?” Mr. Fuller despite the cold and clammy weather, still was able to light up his Cuban cigars. Sometimes his puff, would sound like clangs. He seemed so baneful, with those wretched cigars. It seemed, that he was not real keen, nor cuth to the word cheroot for apparently, he had no idea what the word meant. “I must say Englishman, I reckon I don’t think, I’ve come across that cotton picking word! What exactly, does this word cheroot mean?” For once, I pitied his poor and arm soul. I wanted so much to floot him, for his ignorance and unweetingness. But instead I chose to be more respectful, than less flippant. “My dear boy, cheroot, is another word for cigar. Do forgive me for using such unkennt words to you. I tend to call cigars cheroots, though be it strange to use it!”

It appeared to be so high-falutin for him but then again, this was to be expected and wonted, for a supposed chesterfieldian man. “Well, if you have to know, I reckon I ought to tell you since it ain’t good of me, to not answer a question!” He then stared at me and said, “Cause it’s one darn good cigar I reckon!” I could sense more enmity coming out of him towards me. I could see that he wanted, to flay me alive! I did not think of it wise, nor snator to embed to his level, although I was so blithe in that. Though this man portrayed himself as brave and mody to me he was orsawle, and extremely so modless. His modrof was one of intimidation, but I thus construe him to be, haft in own inner demons and fears. After an hour or so, we then ended the conversation, and then took in some needed sleep for morrow. The day was to be long, and so adventurous. I dare say how intimidating and daunting, are to see the bluffs from here. I batter and struggle with the complications, that are so prevalent. I do beseech God, that he be kind and benign for us. A dear prayer is much necessary!

(Mem-Hansen has told us, that we must be thus prepared, for the day’s journey.)

I long and yearn to write back home. Today I will write a letter; for I was told by Hansen, that Sherpas were common and carse to see here sometimes. But he told me as well that one of the Sherpas, was to return back to the village in about a couple of days or so. I had thought about writing to my fellow colleague back in London Lord Rutherford, and then give my letters to him, when he was to leave afterwards. I shall write a letter to him this very night. I guess after all this hardship and coldness, I shall at least be rewarded, with the joy of doing that at least.

-Letter from Sir Bunbury, to Lord Rutherford:

23 Dec, 1898. “Dear professor, 23 Dec, 1898 Dear professor, I am writing this letter to you at this very instant, to seek knowledge about the daily affairs of the University as well, as the daily affairs of London itself. It has been nearly three weeks since I along with Sir Wellington have departed from London itself. I must report that our progress here is still pending though thankfully, we have at last arrived to where we are in earnest to begin our endeavour. I would be remiss, if I did not so complain about the wretched cold and snow, that seems endless and never-ending here. Although I was forewarned about these horrible weather conditions, I must admit that I myself, find them to be much rather indelible if I should say so. I am troubled so, and worried about the present condition of our Sir Wellington; for I do fear, that he is not hale but instead ill. It appears to me, that he has taken ill. I do pray that whatever wretched conditions befold upon us uphere thousands of feet in high altitude, we shall prevail in finding the yeti. If we are to fail then, may it reign on us, to be able to return to the small little village just below us, from whence we started from. I say to you, that I am not quite confident nor sure about whether or not, we will find this wretched beast. But I do hope for the sake of science, and for the sake of the Academy, that we do indeed locate and bring back the creature. It is what motivates and inurgorates me to continue. We had complications along the way in Romania, for the Turks were quite fiddly. I must reveal to you, how beautiful and sheen was the landscape that I saw, whilst passing through these unique and strange areas of the world in particular, this place of Nepal. I found the rather Great Austrian-Empire along with the Turkish Ottoman Empire, to be rather different. I do believe the Turks, are rather controlling and manipulating of their ambits. India itself was primitive, and so cabalistic. I do wonder without the need for tea, opium, and other much exported agricultural materials, what would Queen Victoria want from this impoverish country? Let me not mentioned to you about Nepal which in itself, is rather no different than India. But less complicated, thus in languages and cultures. I must go now, but it would not be correct of me to not mention that we have be joined up by a rather eccentric fellow, an American Texan by the name of Mr. Fuller. He along with his men have joined us on this trek, but I must confess that I am quite leery of his intentions to join with us. I do not know fully well his intentions, but I do suspect that they truly cannot be nothing more, than mischievous. I must go now, the cold and frigid night has thus begun to numb my fingers, and prevented me from writing anymore. I am afraid, that you shall not receive this letter perhaps in two weeks or so. I do fear that out here, letters come quite seldomly. I must send it from here to Kathmandu itself, which is the capital city of Nepal itself. Yours truly, Professor Bunbury

“P.S.-I must infringe on you if you could, that you should make a visit to my home and inform the livery and the others, who are so concerned about me especially at the University, that I am doing well. And I beg of you, that you keep my revelation about Sir Wellington to just between the two of us. Do not worry, I shall keep my eye on his progress!

December-I awoke to another frosty and frigid morning, and it is much more of a wretched inconvenience than a boonish kith. The snowflakes are so bedraggled and wet. The moisture of the air, pierces through the surface of the ground, and upon my face. Today is a day to buckle, go forward. I am burdened by the whurred wind, and the condition of Sir Wellington. I belike, I but should pay much more attention to him. I wondered, would he be peevish and froward if I were to ask him, about his current condition? I can see Hansen already directing our attention habnab, what would betide on this day, and on the following day afterwards. It is burdenless to resist the cold and the bitter snow, but truly I must for I behove to be whisted, and not lumbered. Willingly I embark with the others, and I can hear Hansen calling on me to come now. He is to give orders to us, and we are to be didactic in the end. I must go now, I pray that this day, God will have us in mind! “Listen to me, we shall now commence in our trek! I have decided that we shall search in two split teams or groups. I have decided, who is to be in which group. I do this, for the sake of all! I shall not seek favouritism, but I tell you all, that we must come together and work together. We are a team here! I do appreciate that this message, be understood by all of us!” Hansen said as we were huddled together so. He went over all important details, excluding the minutiaes. He was very modstathol in his message; for he did not dawdle in nonsense, nor did he blathered as well. He was indeed blue in his determination for success. He then blurted outloud, “Group one will be, Mr. Fuller and his men, along with myself and some of my Sherpas. Group two will be, Professor Bunbury, Professor Walters and Sir Wellington, along with the remanding Sherpas as well!” Hansen’s selection seemed to bolster and deduce, that he did not fully trust nor confide in Mr. Fuller’s intentions. I could see a twinge of discontempt in Mr. Fuller, and it was not indeed bliss. Perhaps, he was blighted by that concept of Hansen. I could not fully tell, was he blithe? Or was he feeling bludgeoned? What he did bottom, was the fact that he needed us, more than we needed him. For despite his desire and penchant for capturing and hafting the creature, he did not want to waste his golden opportunity to find and locate the creature. The question was what would he do after the creature, was to be found? He did not much bramble or hector, instead he acquiesced with Hansen’s demand. Hansen then uttered, “I will not brook any intolerance!” On one hand I was burbled about our adventure, but on the other hand, I was chapfallen in short to the grisly deterioration of the weather, and of the climate also. I shall ford to be much more in tune, with my inner feelings somehow. Hansen then, embarked with his group onto the eastern side of these mountains, whilst we were to embark with our group, onto the western side of these mountains. We all hochered and shook hands, and then said our good luck and good byes to each other. But not before Hansen then said, that we were to meet back here in a pair of a days or a week. We then awried, and went our own ways. As we departed I looked at Sir Wellington, and then wondered strongly, was he truly fadged and fitted to continue though he handseled to disguise his true present condition. I was chosen to lead the group, and I had to be now heedful, and as much huddy to handle this difficult and arduous endeavour.

“Are we ready now? Does everyone have their things and materials in tact?” I queried. After everyone was ready to go, we then headed off into the oblivion as it seemed, in search of the illusive one himself! I could not help but wonder and speculate as we treaded upon the heavy and swanker snow, what would we truly find out here in the middle of nowhere. My other good question, was how could any living creature live out here in this frigid cold and this snow? Let me not forget, the altitude as well.

1:12 p.m.-We have stopped for lunch and for some much needed rest, and we have been out here begirding in circles for hours as it seems. Though it has been only about four hours and total plus several minutes, I get the feeling that we are trying to find a needle within a haystack. As I stared into the midst of the mountains, I can’t help but wonder if there is truly indeed a creature, called the yeti somewhere up here so roaming about. Why with all this white snow covering the ground so and the sky, how could one even come to believe that they could detect this creature? It is mad I say, but I must look at it through the aspect of an archaeologist. As I stand alone once again, I can attest to the howling wind, and the snivelling echoes that it brings also. I almost feel that just perhaps, it is the creature’s beck.

1:45 p.m.-We are leaving the campfire, and headed back onto our journey, although leery about the cliffs and bluffs around us. One does not fathom nor imagine what would become of one if he is to fall. We are thousands and thousands of feet in altitude by now. Somehow although be it temporary, Sir Wellington seems to be rather halwend, but for how long I inquire? “Professor Bunbury have you spotted anything, with the binoculars?” asked Walters. After looking around the periphery of the area I could not see nothing. But that was to be expected, since the weather was still bad and bothersome. “No, unfortunately I haven’t had a clear sight to see. This terrible wretched weather, is impeding my aperçu!” I thought perhaps it would be better, if dear Walters himself took a view for himself. Perhaps, he would see something or spot something, that was just perhaps, the creature himself. I handed the binoculars over to him. “Here you go Professor Walters, perhaps you can spot something? Perhaps, your vision is much better than my own!” Walters then, agreed to take a look for himself. As he peeked through the binoculars for himself, and saw nothing but wretched landscape; a landscape which appeared to be nothing more than open land covered with tons of snow and frigid ice all over the plateau, and on the mountains as well. “I don’t see any sign of hide or hair of the creature!” He handed over the binoculars back to me. “Here you go Professor Bunbury, they’re yours!”

5:20 p.m.-We stopped for the sunset has since set, and darkness has since covered the mackerel skies of the day. I was slowly running out of bickiers and my tea was running out as well. I rolled up one of the newspapers back from London that I had brought along the trip, and had to indeed unfortunately, use it to wrap up my bicker and use a portion of it, to use it as somehow fuel also. It is grit and coarse to have to be subjugated to these harsh conditions, but thank God, I am to be laired and rested at least for the time being. Shelter or lee, is rather less than pat. The area is vast and patly, the cold persists for the almost seeable barren land is abundant with nuances. I belike at least having my life intact, is a boon in itself! A speck of dust is seldom to see uphere, and the snow and the ice has even more increased, by the hour. Truly this does pugger and plesh one!

It pangs me to be so punster and barmy, to not know how to overcome this bitter reality. I must nousel to my concerns as a leader, and much more importantly, as a member of this foray. “Indeed it is getting colder and colder Professor Bunbury, perhaps it was not wise to have thence iniciated, and begun a trek like this. I do wonder how long will it be, before one of us, freezes to death uphere, or is found dead laying among these cursed mountains?” said Walters. I could see Walter’s point and objection, and for I myself was quite concurring, and much amenable of that analisation. “I must confess that I too Professor Walters, find this type of weather so wretched and damnable; for the Gods themselves of Greece would have never lived on this wretched land. For neither Alexander the Great or the Great Genghis Khan, would have ever withstood this much wretched and bloody weather. The cold numbs my body, and the ice paralyses it even more!” We both looked at each other as we heard the persistence of the howling wind, and the gusting of the air, which accompanied it. Sir Wellington had retired for the night, citing his need to rest. I took it as a sign of weakness in his status, and in his present condition. Walters and I, began to talk in ernest about the day’s journey. “I am a bit puzzled about whether or not, to believe if the dearest creature exists after all!” I professed. Walters seemed to come under the notion and concept, that I was having second thoughts about coming to Nepal and look for the illusive creature, called the yeti. “I get the deep impression, that you regret even coming here Professor Bunbury. Can that be true?” I realised that Walters was absolutely correct in his assumption and I must say, that he is rather wily and cunning on personal behaviour. Why he probably, would make a bloody good psychiatrist if he not be, a professor. “Why I cannot tell a lie, nor can I fib about this matter. My true feelings are rather subtle at times and at another times, they are more obvious. I tend to be rather stealthy, and so guileful in hiding my feelings. Ipso facto, I tend to waver from time to time in my eccentricities!” I then exclaimed. Walters posed another poignant, and direct question to me. “Do you truly believe Professor Bunbury, that if the creature does exists, and is somewhere lurking about these vast mountains, that he knows about our presence and more importantly, is watching us at this very moment?” My reply was ambiguous and a bit unknown. “I must say, that your question is indeed a very interesting question there Professor Walters. But I can only reply that I rather don’t quite know about whether or not, any of those assumptions or guesses of yours, are feasible or much accurate!” It was then that at that very moment, that we both caught ear to the sound of an odd howling and yowling noise which appeared to be, perhaps a wild animal or creature. We both quickly turned around, “What was that Professor Bunbury?” inquired Walters. I looked at him and replied, “I don’t know, but we best go, and investigate the matter!” We both then headed for the knurl in which one of the local Sherpas was keeping watch at. We made sure to take Tengri with us both. He was the only one who could communicate effectively in both English and in the Sherpa language and dialect. He must like Sherab was reliable, and a must needed guide. He was nestled to us, and he along with the other Sherpas, would share parleys there amongst themselves occasionally we would interact, with each other sparingly. Once we arrived, at the ridge, I immediately asked Tengri to ask his fellow Sherpa, about what he had possibly heard nearby. When Tengri asked him, the Sherpa’s reply was forthwith. His quelched any doubt in any of our inquiries. “It was the yeti!” he vociferously claimed. I asked the telling question, one which was much more relevant. “Tell him if he by chance, saw the creature the yeti?”

The Sherpa would tell Tengri, that he was not able to see the creature; but he knew by custom and by awareness that without a doubt what he had heard and listen, was no other than the mystical and primitive creature called the yeti. Although I did not know this man so well, and for that matter the Sherpa people, I knew that in the short time that I had come to be with them, that they were loyal, and liege companions and servants. Thus I in all actuality, felt in the bottom of my heart, that he was not lying but telling the absolute truth here. But the question was, it was not enough to say that one heard of the calls and beckons of the creature; for it was necessary to gather more proof, and that meant actually seeing the good creature or beast in flesh. I looked and stared ahead at the landscape of what was out there in the midst. Perhaps a yeti, or perhaps another kind of animal unknown. I saw there infront of me just ahead, what appeared to be ghat of somekind, perhaps just perhaps, there was a creature there lurking behind a crevasse of somekind. The wind persisted to whistle, and howl throughout the night. Sir Wellington appeared to be recuperating, and in good spirits but then again, but for how long? There lee and many miles away from here, lied my beloved London. But it was so aloof, and distant from here!

25 December-I awoke more and more to the pall of the skies which I stared up at. I almost seemed palsy by the sight, and my eyes at times twiddled. It was a daily, and carse thing to be awakened to the frigid and gelid weather and snow that ceased to halt. When it did, it would only be a momentary pause or blim. I had awakened to the beautiful day of Christmas, although, there was not much to be thankful except that of our lives. For if this be the day of our saviour then, I duly ask of him, for a small token of Christmas spirit. I think about Christmas back home in London, and especially amongst my house. I can imagine and see in my eidetic mind, Alice and the rest of the livery, putting up stockings and gifts upon the Christmas tree already. I can just imagine myself sipping the beautiful taste of a fresh hot eggnog so accompanied, by a tasty morsel of an Irish broth. I can see as well Monty tending to his duties, as Santa Claus. Dear Sir Wellington miraculously, was doing better this day. His seems to waver from one day to another. I often find myself gimmering and shuddering, despite heavy layers of thermal clothing and clad that we all donned. The galoshes were becoming less then smug and so mittsian anymore, they were becoming more and more, harsh and coarse even for a wayfarer like myself. After tea and breakfast I gathered up the men, and started the trek for today. By now my voice was becoming raspy and grate. For my fortitude and grit, was quickly becoming tested and burdened. As the snowflakes pierced through my cheeks, I began to wish I had specks of dirt and grime instead pounding on me. I so badly yearned, for the snow to melt and thaw as well. I was more than weary and griped with the snow and the cold; for it was not queer to see it constantly. I was now covered with blisters on my aching and writhing feet, and my skin was rapidly becoming indeed numbed; for I felt that I was being sheared like a lamb, in every step that I took! “Come here at once!” shouted one of the Sherpa men. We all ran to where he was at. Since we had scatter just in the approximaty of a couple of feet from each other, we were able to all huddle and to gather together, as quickly as possible.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)-Continued

“What is it?” I asked Tengri to ask the Sherpa that stevened. He pointed to the ground, and that in itself, did not need any translation. It was so evidently clear to all, that there upon the surface of the rigid ground, were two footprints that appeared to belong, to an animal. The dear question was what kind of creature or animal, did these footprints actually belonged to, I do truly wonder? “What pratell do you think, could have made these footprints?” I asked the good Sir Wellington. Good Sir Wellington was somewhat puzzled and bemused at first; but then quickly quealched any hesitance that he had, after examining them. “I do believe dear boy, that the prints belong to a primitive creature or animal, one which is not common to see!” I then asked, “What do you mean Sir Wellington?” He then adjusted and fadged his spectacles, to see more clearly. He tholed for a moment, before he uttered, “There are not any footprints made by a yak, or by a man, nor by a mountain leopard!” Walters then interjected, “How can you be certain about that my good Sir Wellington?” Sir Wellington then rose to his feet and then glared into our eyes, and professed, “Because as you see around you, it would be quite harsh and difficult, for any type of creature or animal to be able to dwell and abode, in these terrible conditions. There are only a few animals, who could and are able to withstand the cold uphere and neither of them as you see, can mear indeed the footprints of this particular creature. The only possible thing that I can attest to, is that these two footprints were made by no other, than the yeti himself!” “Are you quite sure and certain of that, Sir Wellington?” I asked. It was then, that Tengri interjected and confirmed what Sir Wellington had said. “Sir Wellington is correct, what he truly saids is the truth! These are the footprints of a yeti!” Who was I to dispute a sage, like good Sir Wellington, and an expert like Tengri. It was absolutely clear to me that they were not human, and not much typical among any type of living creature known to me; but Walters was not too sure, so he had to ask, “Are we completely sure, that these footprints here in the snow, do not belong to any massive human being? Is it not thus feasible I ask you, gentleman?” There was no qualm in my mind neither, that of Sir Wellington and of the local Sherpas, that they were made by no other, than the primitive and the cabalistic beast called the yeti. Sir Wellington seemed to scowl at that possibility. “Why Professor Walters, can you honestly believe that any true human being could make these markings, on the ground surface? Why look at the configuration of these good footprints, the toe is bigger and above all, there all five toe-fingers accompanying so. A human being naturally has but four!” Walters then realised that finding, but still he persisted, “Perhaps it is a freak of nature Sir Wellington!” Sir Wellington’s reply was succinct and brief, “It is indeed feasible, but highly unlikely!” We had the footprints measured and recorded, and casted as well. We knew that the falling snow, would quickly cover the two footprints, within minutes as it seemed.

1:18 p.m.-Again we stopped for rest and for lunch. It was pass midday but now, and forenoon had appeared. I was given to eat a local stew by Tengri, who gave it to Sir Wellington, and to Walters as well to taste. I must confess, that it was rather eluctable and beargy. Truly how could one dawdle, a tasty morsel like this. I had been wunaded to bickers and kippers, along with tea much throughout this journey, that it was wonted of me to be worthaded with this prize.

Although I was a bit hawed by taking some of it, I knew that at this point of time, which appeared seemingly to be in extremis anything else than bickiers and kippers, were better to at least taste. It would be stewed, and boiled by Tengri himself; and after eating and consuming it entirely, I yearned for more! I did not need to sift at it, to know how delicious it was. I did not skimp in wreying my pleasure with the stew. “I must confess my dear Tengri, that this stew is rather sensational, why it is the best stew that I have ever tasted before in my entire life!” Sir Wellington along with Walters, seemed to agree and acquiesce in the end. “Your quite right my dear boy?” exclaimed Sir Wellington. Walters also concurred, “Why I must confess, that I have been in most of the States of the Union back home, and I come across some good stews along the way; and never have I tasted such a good and delicious stew like this one before.” I then got up to stretch a bit why in fact, we all did. Why if one didn’t then, he would easily find his feet along with other parts of his body, numbed and almost paralysed. It was weighty now to find out exactly, where did these two footprints came from. “Where do you believe the footprints came from Tengri?” I asked. Tengri seemed to be more then gleaw, and he was well knowledged much like Sherab in the creature; and in the vast surrounding dwellings and ardigens of the creature, as well. He then quickly answered my dear question. “I believe that the footprints came from that direction!” he said as he pointed thence northwards. Although his accent was thick, he was still fairly comprehensible. I knew that there upon the threshold of our very own eyes, we would at last spot the illusive one. We knew that tomorrow, we were to head in that direction. I was beginning to feel that it was a matter of time before we at last found the beast; but how were the others doing I wondered. I can only hope for their sake, that their luck is much better than ours. I am extremely confident and sanguine, that Professor Hansen, is a viable and truly competent and wise man; for he shall attempt like myself, to do the uttermost best that he can do. If, we are to not succeed then without a doubt, at least he will; for if not then I do believe, that the only one who will behove and benefit from this whole ordeal will be no one else, than the frivolous and dungy hunter, Mr. Fuller himself. I have thought about, my letter that I written to Lord Rutherford. I am told that tomorrow, one of the Sherpas, is to make his way back to the village. Thus I will give him the letter, that I myself, wrote to Lord Rutherford. I shall entrust in him uttermost discretion and compliance. I am indeed taking a risky chance if I should say so, in handling over my letter to the Sherpa; but then again, what other choice is there. We are to journey back in a few days, back to the main camp, in which we had embarked and iniciated from. I do hope, that we shall have no difficulty and returning; but the snow and the cold, are never-ending and unrelentless as well. The winds continue to howl, and whew also. I am not yet completely or forlorning mad, I am somewhat bearish, and gawky about our situation. It is of course a hap, that I did not thwart, in the first place! Henceforth, I cannot hash myself, nor let this place that seems to be a zeitgeist, howf and haunt me! I cannot yawp because I did concede in coming here although presently, I do not relish nor zest in this fowl climate and weather. It appears to have a very unique trait of itself. If one looks very closely into the depth of these mountains then he can gaze thoroughly, at what might seem to an outlander to be nothing more, than a forsaken Hades in the end!

(From Hansen’s Journal) Professor Hansen’s Journal 25

December-Today is Christmas day, and I have along with my men though they be not true Christians they indeed, shared some eggnog which I had brought along the way. I do miss much, my beloved Christmas in Denmark; for I know that my wife Ingrid, and my son Egil, is opening up his Christmas presents. I do ask Sant Nicholas, and of course God, that he have consideration for my beloved family while I am here, and I pray truly that he have consideration for us. If by chance, I am not to return through some unpredictable or unknown circumstances of events then, I beseech upon him, that I do bequeath my wife Ingrid, and my beloved son Egil more than my estate. But instead, this journal that I can only hope and pray, shall make it’s way back to dear Denmark. We headed for our journey, after we had eaten and had gather up our things together necessary for today’s trek. I have explained to Mr. Fuller and the others of what we are suppose to look for, and of what we are to do in case, anyone of us, shall either spot or come across the creature. I have warned and advised the men, including The Texas hunter Mr. Fuller. I much like Professor Bunbury, do not really trust and confide in this suspicious character who I must admit, although he is amenable and receptive to my behest, and of my command, I still indeed feel that the question will be, what will he do once we come across the creature? Will he acquiesce with me? Or will he betray or even backstab me in the end? If that shall betide or happen then, I fear for the worse, and it could be possible and feasible, that being alone with him and his loyal men, that I will not be able to depend on assistance from the others. In particular Professor Bunbury, Professor Walters, and Sir Wellington. If there is any conciliation to this is that, I have at least the loyalty, and trust of the Sherpas. Still, I shall be vigilant and like a hawk, I shall keep my old eyes on Mr. Fuller, and his band of holligans!

1:14 p.m.-We stopped to catch lunch and to catch some needed rest. So forth, we have trekked and ventured for nearly four hours complete; and covered miles of land and territory, and still no visible sign of the yeti at all! I do not give up hope, for my hope is still there, and my faith, and belief that I shall come across the creature again, is still prevalent, and alive in my mind, and in my heart. I must not give up nor must I be impatient and irksome. I must retain patience, and be stoic. I have had the Sherpas comb every other of the vicinity, and Mr. Fuller along with his men, have done likewise. I do wonder how progress of the others, is doing? I do hope that they shall be much more successful then us, though I shall be envious and jealous, if they are to be the ones to have come across the creature before us! I must be logical and pratical as well. It is just the first day of this trek, and time is on our side. But at the same time, will the cold and weather permit us? And shall we be able in the end, to withstand and bear the harsh and terrible conditions, that have befallen upon us all? I do wonder, and reflect on the thought whether or not, it was not wise and prudent to have postponed this trip until the spring; knowing that the conditions at this time, would be without a doubt difficult, and intolerable. Has my greed and avaricity, cause me to forsake the well-being of the others in particular my fellow colleagues? And if so, will I have to bear the burden of their deaths in the end? I think as well, about Mr. Fuller, how convenient of him, that we were able to find him. And I wonder despite his co-operation, what does he have instore for me in the end? Shall he dare, to kill me?

7: 28p.m.-We have at last stopped and made camp for the night. We are approximately some ten miles or so away from our starting point. Still, we have found nor located nothing, and no visible sign, or trance of the yeti. I still must cling to the idea and notion, that the creature is somewhere lingering, and lurking about. I have maintained so my vigilance of Mr. Fuller, and his men. He has been abreast to me, throughout the duration of the day. I think, that he is waiting for the dear moment in which there is even one single clue to the beast. It would astir a passion and a cause him, to act on his own. I have told Sherab and the other Sherpas, that everything must be taken in consideration, where it pertains to Mr. Fuller, and his men. The rocks have begun to wear and tear on the soles of my boots, and in the skin of my feet. The blisters are getting bigger, and they are quickly swelling. I long for the snow, and ice to thaw and melt; but my drive and urge to find the creature, is slowly outweighing, my concern for the weather. Mr. Fuller, spends the time with his men frolicking and wallowing in alcohol, and in brackish talk. 26 December-Woke up to find Mr. Fuller and his men asleep, and slumbered. It appeared, that their frolicking and wallowing caused them, to be burdened and wane. I was forced to awaken Mr. Fuller and his man. Once he awaken, he apologised for the recidivous behaviour of his men, and the behaviour of himself. After we all had breakfast, and were so fully awaken and prepared, we then headed off once again, for our dear trek. Along the way, we found nothing, and nothing it appeared as if we were heading in mere circles, and nothing more than that.

1:16 p.m.-Stopped for our daily lunch, and for our daily stoppage also. Mr. Fuller and his men, appear to have shaken off any weakness or ill-effects that they had. I must commend him and his men, for their fast recuperation. It is perhaps due to the fact, they must be all used to this activity of shrivelness. We did not whisk through the snow and ice; for it did not allow us, to cover much territory, and land. I do hope, that the others are at least, fortunate and lucky in their endeavour. I worry and wherret, about the persistent weather conditions; in particular the ongoing, and much never-ending barrage of snow and cold wind, which gusts strongly and wieldly, throughout the landscape.

7:08 p.m.-We covered at least two miles in length, and in width; and still, there was no sign of the creature, no sign of the illusive yeti! I am starting to doubt and question my intelligence, and recollection of the land and area. I was told by Sherab that we were on track, but still, it was not one-hundred percent a certainty that the yeti, was near or closeby! I do not doubt or have a qualm with what Sherab has told, and reveal to me. Sometimes I get the feeling and sensation, that the creature perhaps, is twitting and teasing us; and that it is somewhere out there, waiting for us to find him. I have calculated, and measure quite well and enough, my calculations, and that of my remembrance. And I am assured by the Sherpas, that we are close at hand in finding the dwelling or sanctuary of the creature, but I only wonder truly, if the creature will be found in time, before our will and our bodies do not break nor wither. I have instructed my dear Sherab, to have two of the Sherpas, stand guard instead of one as previously.

Again, Mr. Fuller and his men spent the night frolicking, and wallowing away in Scottish Whisky, and Mexican Tequila. I do wonder whether or not, Mr. Fuller and the others will be so much more wary, and prudent than their erst behaviour. For I wonder, will they be sloven and sloth in the morning? I can hear the wheeze of the wind indeed. It continues to howl, and much wheeple. Sir Bunbury’s Journal 27 December -I have awakened to the presence of a frosty, and cold December morning. I can hear the strange calls of somekind of creature, which I am told by the Sherpas, is but a common shrill, or beck, by one of the local birds, which is a raven of some sort. I was told by Tengri, that occasionally one comes across an actual raven, as well as a vulture. He had even caught, a rare occasional glimpse at a lynx as well. Today we are to continue our trek and search, for the one penumbral and furtive one, the yeti. We are to cover more ground and plateau today, despite the fact, that my feet are swollen from the plentinuous, and abundant amount of rocks which despite the snow and ice are thus present, and a discomfort. I must not be a coward or caitiff, and I must regain my strength, and rationalisation. I do feel a tad bit tired and fagged, but I do feel so wieldy and wight enough, to resume this harsh but yet exciting search. It almost leaves one saying, truly to himself, that one must be out of his gourd for being up here in this harsh environment. As one peers through the landscape, he wonders how a beautiful place like this, can be regarded to be such a heath to many? But to me, it does remind me of a scenario with the weald. One loves to admire tremendously the nature of a forest, but when one is almost barren, and lorn in the realms of time and being, he cudgels alot about that one thought.

1:08 p.m.-We once again, halted our activity for the morning at least for nonce. We have not come across anything pertinent, not even a footprint anymore. I can hear Sir Wellington, as he murmurs to himself grump and snivel, about the rashents that are quickly dwindling and much so dissipating, in earnest. For a man who is so grizzled, and with all due respects hoary, he is not a mere simpleton nor gooney; for he is a man with great brilliance, and great intelligence. But, he appears to resemble as I glance at his face, much like a Scottish gowan! Does he continue, to wreak in pain? I must keep my vigilance on him. As we rested our feet and bodies, there was a loud and penetrating whoosh, that could be detected and heard by our ears. It was more than a mere whistling and wheezing sound, that could be heard; for it sounded like a shrilling, and such yowling cry. It even reminded me of a whimpering mutt. After eating and drinking, and talking about our morning’s trek, we pressed on and thringed on as well. I jounced, and bounced to my feet along with the others, and then extreme grit and fortitude continued this never-ending search for the creature. We pressed on through the surface, and ground of the plateau of the mountains, keeping our eyes always attentive, and whisted. I thought is wiser, if we were to split off in two groups; but not fully distant from each other, but enough space and, distance to be able to cover much more ground. I sent Walters along with a couple of the Sherpas to one side, whilst I along with Sir Wellingtons and Sherab, were on the other side. It was as we were covering our ground, that we would hear a holler echoing, from behind us. Sherab, quickly informed me along with Sir Wellington, that one of the men had seen or discovered something pertinent. We all thus ran toward the appointed area, and I instructed Sherab to ask the man, just what he had found!

Apparently the Sherpa, had found and discovered, what appeared to be footprints once again; identical to the previous ones in which he had found before. Walters, Sir Wellington and I plus Tengri, all fully and carefully examined the unknown footprints. And after a much thorough investigation and examination, we all came to the conclusion, that the footprints as the previous ones, did indeed belong to the mysterious, and primitive creature. “It is exactly the same, and identical footprints, that we found before Sir Wellington!” I asked. Once again we were faced, with the grail question of whether or not, this was indeed the footprints of an actual yeti. “We must whelp more information, and deduce more proof, my dear Sir Bunbury! But, I in my utmost opinion as an archaeologist, have adduce that to me without a doubt, this is indeed the footprints made, by a yeti himself!” It was then, that Walters interjected, “But if this be so then, where in carnations, is the creature at?” Sir Wellington always the more wiser, and much knowledgeable, pointed up to the mountain ridges around us, and said so plainly, “Somewhere around here and around there, but what I can attest and besoldefully acclaim, is that the creature, is truly amongst us!” Walters then, asked a follow up question, “If so then, the creature must be watching us. He must I am sure, know now all about our presence here!” Sir Wellington then, paused for a momentarily thought. He pondered, and cudgelled so deeply into his mind, Walters unique but yet interesting question. He then, took a deep breath, before he uttered, “I do believe, that you are correct, and right in your assumption, Professor Walters!” I then interrupted by inquiring, “If that be so Sir Wellington then, why doesn’t, the creature appear; or make it’s clear presence to us? For are we not abling men to attempt, to be amicable and benign to it?” Sir Wellington then with his thinking cap on, was rather diligent and his thought; and truly perspicacious in his notion as well. But he did not fancy my analogy, nor hwyl rationalisation. “Good God my boy, have you gone mad! Have you forgotten that this a creature my boy, and not a human at all. My God, he is nothing more than a primitive and much cabalistic ape; a troglodyte for that matter. One who so toddles and traipses, the ground of this earth to exist my dear boy, much like any other animal!” I then added my own philosophy into the equation. “Perhaps you are correct and saying, that the yeti, is nothing more then an ape or animal. But then if we as scientists are supposed to adduce, and deduce from Darwin theory, what pratell I ask, is the derivation of man? If we are not true descendants of the apes, much as Darwin has suggested then, at least this creature is or better, he is perhaps, the descendant of mankind in some way!” Though Sir Wellington was an homme d’ésprit, and a somewhat restiff and thrawart individual he at that moment, realised and comprehended, my frightening and droopy theory of life itself. For a moment, I thought he would attack my theory; and say that I was nothing more than, dullard and a whipster in professing my strange and forward analogy. But instead, he was rather philosophical, and such pedantic in his response. “I must say, in all the occasions, that we ourselves have had intellectual parleys and conversations, I have never come to admit nor much concede that in this very exact occasion, you have outwitted and circumvented me so, Professor Bunbury! You bring up, an interesting and bountified real question! For you pose a query, that must be solved at any cost during this journey of ours. Perhaps, this ophic and tricksy question of yours shall be answered, and we shall put Darwin’s theory of evolution to test.” He then paused for a moment as to reflect deeply, and thoroughly on this fascinating question.

He then responded by saying, “Just think of it, if we shall bring back the creature, or the yeti then, we shall bring forth to fruition, his brilliant claim of evolution!” I then, posed a rather unseeming question to Sir Wellington, and to Walters. “If we are to succeed, in that endeavour then, allow me to ask one final question here. Then are we, to change the pages of religion, and the Bible forever? It would mean defying the foundation, and belief that mankind himself has so had, over thousand and thousand of centuries in the past!” Walters then interjected by saying, “Perhaps that might be so Sir Bunbury, but do not forget that man has strided, and much thus advanced already, without the principles of God in our society.” I then asked as to what exactly, was he referring to. “What are you saying Professor Walters? I am afraid, that I don’t understand your uncanny analogy. Please expound so, and elucidate on that Professor Walters!” Professor Bunbury, don’t you realise, that we live in a modern society already. We are on the brink of the twenty century, and we have advanced so much in the time period, since Jesus was crucified, some nearly two thousand years ago. Think, look, feel all around you, as you venture upon the streets of the big cities of the world, London, New York, Rome, Paris, Amsterdam, etc, we no longer are our ancestors. Man has advanced, and progressed throughout the centuries; and to the present as well! Just imagine what the twentieth century and twenty-first century will be like, a new millennium shall be born long after we have been dead, and buried. Modernisation, is the essence of evolution!” I hearken and listen attentively, and whistedly, to Walter’s poignant and trenchant speech on humanity. It did not kittle, nor tweak me; instead, it brought bearance upon me to so ponder whether or not, I could ever come to imagine fully, the importance and truth about those words of his. I was forced to knelled so, and summon all of my intelligence, and huddiness. No longer could I droop within my own perplexities after all, I was a scientist, and archaeologist as well. I had to remember not so much my personal beliefs and convictions, neither of my philosophies. I did not come to be a bard, nor a poet but instead, a deemable and reputable archaeologist. “You do have a rather interesting, and good point there Professor Walters, I shall heed and keep your poignant words with me. For you are indeed much like Sir Wellington, a rather wise, and bright intellectual. We all knew that Tengri, the man here who was more appropriate to know not about our frivolous parleys of evolution, but instead the meaningful creature, was the indicated one to supply us with the necessary information, and opinion on the creature itself. “Tell me Tengri, since you seem to be the one who actually not only knows all about the creature, but has actually seen one, from what you have told us. And for someone like yourself, a dweller and an inhabitant of this region, what pratell, is your opinion and notion on the unknown whereabouts of the yeti? Where do you think that he is hiding or watching us from, at this very moment?” Tengri himself was a rather stout, and so dumpy fellow. He had a rather shaggy beard that resembled more a tiny shrub and his eyes, were pure Asian in features; but he appeared to resembled in physicality the same of all Sherpas, that I have seen along the way. But there was an interesting and vivacious quality and trait about him, his encephalon. He indeed, was a rather intelligent gent, I if should say so. I at first, had wondered if he had fully understood, and indeed comprehended my question. But much to my amazement, he had no difficulty nor kiaugh so, in understanding my question. He instead reflected and proceeded to answer it so, with a mighty kittonish and currish way. “I can only say that he does exist, and that he is near us. But I can not tell you all, that he is there or here. But he is near, and is watching us!”

Of course, that was the dreadful and direful thing about this all we had to wait, for it to appear and not for it to appear, when we wanted and would it to appear. I could not help but recall and replay in my mind, Tengri’s last words. I knew that in this forsaken and bedim place, laid the presence of this illusive but yet fascinating creature. One in which Sir Wellington calls a troglodyte. I do not find the word troglodyte to be rather appealing and mellow, instead the word yeti, is much to my satisfaction and liking! It does titivate me indeed that, I am now believing so, that the creature is trying to outface us all. He seems to outflank each at our every move, and our discovery; for we seem to be begirding ourselves daily.

6:07 p.m.-After searching the environs near the footprints, we again found nothing, to prove that the yeti, was nearby. We found nothing except Jack Frost himself, who must have been, strolling the area from the north pole; for he appears to be present all around, this forsaken place. I do wonder if he will ever leave this place, I hope? I could not help but think about those who came before us. Those great men of science who I have always admired such as, Captain John Wood, Sir Joseph Dalton Hooker; and of course my favourite, Sir Andrew Waugh! Such pedantic, and protuberant old fellows were these superb and great men of our time; for archaeology truly is in debt or in hock, with these brilliant and reputable men of our time. Indeed it was so ever dreary at times, and so dull to be coop up in such a dreadful surrounding. Neither the weather, nor the cold, was clement or merciful on us all. Fie! For it seems as one walks and treads upon a chasm of some sort daily, the rocks are so abundant. They mere to a degree that of basalts. It does fester and irk one, and one feels rather cumbersome and bandy as well. Although I am not snub, I have somewhat through grit and fortitude, managed to withstand and bear these harsh, and such cruel conditions. My cold feet were numbed, and at times found myself shambling across the hardened landscape. I slowly found my footsteps to be sloven; mired in my own sloth. Of course the staple of it all, was the pall itself. We spend an hour or so, talking about the events of the day. “How do I loathe and scorn this weather, and frigid cold!” exclaimed Sir Wellington. We are all, snappish and tired of the harsh conditions even Walters himself, who was the least direct about, his own personal feelings concerning the matter, made his spite of the weather known. “Why I wonder, when in the hell, will this bloody weather, and snow end? I do hope it be sooner, than later!” I then asked the others, Sir Wellington, Walters, and Tengri, what did they feel we were to truly find out here in the middle of this forsaken wasteland. I directed my question, to Sir Wellington. “Tell me my dear Sir Wellington, what do you bloody believe we will find somewhere out there in this wretched and forsaken area?” Sir Wellington who appeared at least for the moment, to be at least at almost full strength, said rather candidly and poignantly to me, “Well if you must ask Professor Bunbury, I really don’t have a blooming clue at all! I can only hope, that somewhere out there in the midst amongst these grisly and sombre environs, exist perhaps a creature, that could in all essence be the first ape or the first man; a true cave-man!” I can sense the vivacity and the intensity grow, and billow in the trenchant voice of Sir Wellington. He was indeed one great philosopher and intellect. His shortcomings were not at all abundant, nor detectable. He did not shrivel nor waste his words, in meagre fallacies nor boshes. His words and demeanour, reeks merit and blandishment! He appears to stroll, and march to his own flam. “And what about you Professor Walters, what is your own observation and opinion, if I may ask?”

Walters proceeded to give his own personal opinion, and observation pertaining to our situation. “I must concur so with Sir Wellington’s private thought, and observation. It is such a scurrilous thing, that one can come to an unknown conclusion. I have never felt so useless, and ambiguous about such a baffling, and befuddling thing like this!” I then asked, “What do you mean by this Professor Walters?” He then replied, “The creature why of course!” There was such a lack of enlightenment, and aufklärung in all of our hallowed, and so callous words. I then, did something quite unusual and unheard of an intellectual to partake it, and that was to ask, a more common plebe like Tengri. It was not my intention to brickbat him, by insinuating that he was inferior to me or that I was mocking him in a brackish way. For a chap like him, would be rather coltish about any such insulting reference. “Tell me one thing Tengri, what do you think being a Sherpa, is out there lurking and lingering, about these vast, and numerous mountains?” He was rather quite upfront and direct about his comments, and he was not penumbral, nor surreptitious about his true feelings, and thoughts. “I can only tell you Sir Bunbury, that you can bring all your gear and the strong men to find the yeti; but you have to live with the yeti, to know the yeti. You see to us he is a deity, a God!” Sir Wellington then asked Tengri, to expound and explain on his statement. “Are you implying and insinuating, that one must dwell upon these harsh and rigid ardigons, in order to find the creature?” Tengri with a forward glance uttered, “Yes!” I then made the comment, “It is rather indellible and remarkable, how such primitive people, can apotheosise a creature, and elevate it to a supreme deity. It is such a coarse belief!” Sir Wellington then inferred, about his knowledge about the cultures of primitive people around the world. “Let me interject here, my dear boy! It is quite obvious, that you are not fully scholared and informed about the cultures and customs of the multifarious, and multitudinous primitive and cabalistic people of the world. But don’t you see my dear boy, that to these people, modernisation is nothing but a mere stranger to them; for they don’t quite comprehend or bottom, the way of life in the west. For we Europeans, harboured resentment, and distaste for the ways of these such people, because we don’t interact enough with these people! What we seem to do rather well, is call and label them nothing more, then mere savages. It is quite wrought of one to do that, for it is using a Scottish euphemism, that I say, it is part of our “mien,” to bestow upon, these primitive people, status of inferiority. I on the other hand know all too well about these sort of people, and I can fully expound and attest, that upon my many trips abroad, I have seen and met, and even gotten to learn about their ways. I myself fancy, that what Mr. Tengri saids, is indeed correct!” “It is with a mickle of regret, that I can be such an ignoramus and unweeting person, in being such a lout in my insipidness. Why I must not partake in mere linsey-woolsey. I shall keep that in mine; and attempt to be much more kempt, in my comments and opinions. I do not wish to sprew and sprout any frivolous bosh; for it would be disingenuous then in my part!” We all then retired for the night, eager and anxious to wake up tomorrow, to see what was to become of tomorrow. I left only the small flickering lantern by my side, while I would sleep and slumber. I had pretty much finished writing, my entry for the night. From here to fro, I had written about my adventure since I first departed, and left from the accouchements of my beloved London and England. I shall not coddle, nor pamper my occasional blithe mirth. I brood, that it would belittle and cog, my nous. What is seemingly evident, is that my cheeks and face, are quickly blanching; and becoming ashen white; analogous to the very same snow, that I tread upon daily here.

Midnight-We were all awakened to a loud and obstreperous noise, coming from just nearby our present encampment. The Sherpas of course, were the first to detect the loud strange noise. We all despite the cold and dank weather conditions, sprung up from our tents and headed toward the ridge in which the Sherpa had according to him, seen the creature. It was the first time, that there was an actual depiction, and portrayal of the creature. Just as before, only a much vague description could be made, but at least there was something to go on. The description, that we were to go on was, a stocky and sturdy creature which the Sherpa said, was at least six-feet tall, and was completely hairy, and hirsute. The fur of the creature, was as ashen white as the snow; and it resembled that of a ghost as well. He had long menacing claws, sharp and bended in, much like a blinding hook. Perhaps that of Captain Ahab’s Moby Dick. His eyes were completely red as fire and his ears and nose, were small and grig. What was unique, and quite fascinating, was the claim that the creature stood on two feet, much like a man not an animal. It was then, that Darwin’s theory of evolution, was starting to be a teemy thought; and one which would be much shared and concurred by the others. I had be insipid to overstep my boundaries of egalitarian, but at least anent to the yeti, I had to be much more precise! I knew that perhaps a yew-tree, was not to be found in this harsh, and somewhat derelict place like this. Begorra, I am at least yerked, by the prospect in perhaps finding in finis, the illusive yeti itself?

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

27 December-Ad infinitum, it seems that the weather seems to have an agenda of it’s own. It does ad libitum. My gullet, appears to be getting more raspy and hoarse. I slowly am running out of dire medicine! I must think hard, and counsel more effectively with Sherab, about where the creature, could be hiding at. I began to wonder an array of many questions. One, could the dear creature be hibernating at this very moment? Or could the creature, be instead an unknown ape, and not more then that? Or could it be a mere nomad, or wild man? All these much so thimbleful thoughts, could make a thrall of one. For I wonder if the pantheism of God, also applied here? I yearned for the scorching heat of Africa, but I must shrivel my time and intricacies. Here we are in a barren and derelict area of the world; a clod within, a clammy region of the earth. I caught Mr. Fuller shooting at occasional yaks that were in the area. There he was so, with his band of thugs. He seemed like a Hessian or soldier, displaying and remonstrating his manhood. He says he has the need, and urge to shoot the yaks or birds, that occasionally appear in the midst. His reply was, “Why come now my dear Danishman you know, that a man of my breed, must truly always fulfil I reckon, that urge to hunt. Why a critter such like this yak, is a worthy prize! I have a killed and skinned two-hundred bisons in South Dakota, and I have a killed, and even skinned the illusive Siberia tiger of Siberia!” He then paused for a moment, before he responded, “Why to killed such a rare critter like this a yak, is worth more than a mere trophy!” I then asked about the yeti. He seemed to have a glow and radiance in his eyes, that exuded glee or excitement. He then stopped his firing, and became much more intense when I questioned him, about the value and worth of the yeti itself. “Why if I had the chance to a kill, and bring back the critter as a dear trophy, it would a mean,” he then threw his cigar onto the ground and then with his feet, stamped it out. He then uttered, “A thousand trophies much more, my Danishman!” Mr. Fuller, was a man who stood six-feet two inches in height, and was clean-shaven. He dons or clads, a fur skin coat over, some breeches he wears underneath.

He wears a cowboy hat, only equivalent to General Custer’s eloquent hat he had don, on that faithful day at the Little Big Horn. Infact, if one did not know that General Custer, was dead and long buried in the open plain of America then one would say, that he be a spitting image of him! Once I was able to steer his attention away from his fruitless, and useless shooting venture, we were at last able to begin our adventure. I do believe that he twits me, with his much careless activities. He seems to be wanton, but yet quite so wily. Tomorrow, we were to venture back to the first encampment, and meet the others. I approximate, that we are indeed at least, about ten miles away from the original encampment. I can see thalwegs around us, and the cold tweaks so ever more. The constant thought that lingers in my mind, was it appropriate and correct, to have embarked on this journey during this harsh and adamantine weather? I must be adamant, in my behaviour; for it is much too late to second guess, at this very moment. I seldomly, have time to dusts off the snow which theeks me constantly. I wonder these silly pranks, and jinks that Mr. Fuller plays on my mind. What exactly does his small mind, pretend? He is good at beset one’s own thoughts. And he does not fawn, at the beckon of one. As I stared up, at the cirrus of the clouds, I teem the idea and notion of when shall the sun permeate and throw away the thawing snow, and bring once again at least, a smidgen of thatch. 1:04 p.m.-I must skimp my emotions toward the cold for if not then, I would wither away, like a blossom. I must attempt, to find a way to thwart off the cold and gelid air. And the rigid ice, and the constant bombardment of snow. I have had to fuss, and hector with good Mr. Fuller. He is I am afraid, becoming somewhat impatient of searching, and not being able to locate, nor even get one single peep at the creature. I fear, that it would only be a matter of time, before he will try to overtake my authority. And if that is to happen then, I must be prepared. I keep my eyes wary of his actions and in particular, his two thugs. He calls the Indian “Toot,” which he says means but friend. He calls the African by the name of “Sizwe,” which I am not certain, what it truly means in translation. As we sat down there I began to ask him, about his views on human relations since he had as he has stated shacked, and slept with such people such as the Cree Indian, and the Zulu African. I wanted to know as a scientist so, what was his personal views, on humanity in general. We were all situated by the campfire attempting to absorb the warmth of the heat of the fire, and gas, that appeared to be the only consolation in being up here. “What are if I may ask, are you personal opinions on the matters and relationships, between the many races of human beings?” It was always indeed, quite difficult, and perplexing to gain Mr. Fuller’s good attention. He always seemed to be mire within his own cigar; for his puff were more a thud. When he got around to answer my question, he was rather subtle in his manner of words. “Well, I reckon, that I don’t quite seem to catch the rabbit’s tail on that. I ain’t a one to be so fancy on words, or on any kind of philosophical discussions!” I thought to myself, why a man with his intelligence, had to be reason with? “What I mean Mr. Fuller, how do you feel about people of other races, or nationalities? Do you have any problems with co-habituating with people of other skin colour?” He then seemed to at last, grasped my question. “If you are asking me, what I think about being around people like Toot, and Sizwe. Why despite the fact that they’re savages, they are rather darn good trackers! They are darn varmints, if you ask me. Why there better then any coyote or bloodhound, that anyone can ever use!”

He then proceeded to ask me a question. “Tell me a something my good Danishman, why are you so curious as one says to know about my opinions, since you good professors, seem to know it all?” I then saw the double sword, since he had a right to ask. “Well, if you must know Mr. Fuller, the reason why I asked you about that, was that I have seen you frolic, and get along so well, with your men!” Mr. Fuller gave me a quite frank, and direct response to that inquiry of mine. “Have you ever a tasted some good hot coffee without milk, and without sugar?” I thence replied, “Nay!” He then proceeded to explain his analogy. “You see my good Danishman, that one does not need to have any lumps of sugar, or teaspoons of milk, to make coffee taste good!” I was able to somewhat understand his point. If I was to be correct and certain then, what he was insinuating was, that if one must tolerate another, and accept things for what they are then, one must be always ready for what becomes of a situation. When we resumed our search, Mr. Fuller along the way suggested an idea, which appeared to be on one hand enticing; but on the other hand, it seemed rather harsh and coarse. “I reckon, that we a put snare or traps along the way, and then sit back and wait. You a better believe my Danishman, that in a matter of time, we will catch that darn varmint. Why if not, I wouldn’t be called the legendary sharp shooter much, for nothing!” I had to put my worry for perhaps harming the creature. I though, had great interest and desire in finding the creature, I could not afford to have the creature harmed or injured. “Tell me something Mr. Fuller, if you were to use a snare or trap then, would that not hurt or harm the animal?” Mr. Fuller’s reply was, “Maybe?” he then hawed before he uttered, “If you put a snare and set it to seriously harm an animal then by all means, you will surely harm or even kill a darn critter. But if you a set the snare up in the right way of doing things then, you won’t a harm the critter at all. You understand now my good Danishman?” I felt that I was starting to understand to a lesser degree, the ways and mind of Mr. Fuller. After realising and pondering effectively, his proposal, I thought it wise, to at least attempt his suggestions. “All right Mr. Fuller, I will indeed consent and acquiesce to have you put your snares and traps on the ground permitted, that the snow and ice, will allow it!” Mr. Fuller smiled and then called on his men to proceed, with the endeavour. He turned me and show me one of his snares, which seemed to be quite mammoth and heavy in size. “Why these snares you see here, my good Danishman, will get the job done, if not, we’ll have to use a much more bigger ones or else, set more of them along the way!”

7:10 p.m.-Apparently Mr. Fuller’s snares were not successful, and they were only able to snare and catch a hapless hare. I can see how furious and petulant he was, but he would explain, that he needed more time. Perhaps several days at least. It was apparent, that the creature remained illusive; for he slithered like a snake in a row of never-ending thatch of open plain. Just to hear a keen of the animal, roar through the keel skies of the Himalayas. Mr. Fuller, was a very stubborn fellow. He seemed to be made from a breed or ilk, of born-killers! I had no other choice at the present time, but to accept his antics and his boldness. The journey tomorrow, was not to be a jaunt at all; for the journey was to be somewhat dreary. I do pray that the empyrean, be at least amenable, and receptive to our trek. Mr. Fuller is bent on finding the creature, and he has stated to me, that we were to find the creature soon. But my inquiry was, how long would, our mutual trust and cooperation continue once the creature was found and located? After all, his modus operandi, was one of convenience and benefit.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

28 December-Today is our day to begin to venture back toward our first encampment; the very same one, which the dear Professor Hansen had told us to rendez-vous at. Unfortunately, I do feel a twinge of preoccupation, and there are signs of a blizzard approaching. The snow has picked up in volume, and it has started to increment into signs of such a howling and bitter harsh snowstorm. I was not able to sleep much, nor slumber for that manner. I spent the whole bloody wretched night, thinking and cudgelling about the whereabouts of the creature. I had also had a strange and uncouth nightmare one in which, I began to see the stages of evolution pass me by, from ape to man. I began to see my own transition from the ape to the development of man, thus itself. I could see my hirsute body, covered with hair and fur, which encompassed and enmeshed the surface of my body. I could descry upon me sharp fierce claws, and teeth which were sharper than the knife of a lunatic and the sword of a Crusader. My eyes were red as the sunset that set, and I had an ugly guise and countenance which superseded, that of Mr Hyde himself. For good Stevenson himself or Stoker, would not have imagine such a fowled, and wretched creature that I dreamt last night. What I wondered was, what did this whole blinning dream and nightmare truly mean or indicate? I sought to seek answers, and replies to my inquiries and to my questions. Was I in my subconscious mind and brain, beginning to thig Sir Wellington’s, and Walter’s concept, of evolution? Was Darwin truly accurate when he stated, that man himself derived from the very essence and that was from the monkey, called the ape? I somewhat was troubled, throughout the morning; not knowing whether or not, I shall make mention of my nightmare or let it be known, to Sir Wellington. For I do see him as being my grand model of excellence and achievement.

1:09 p.m.-We had embarked on returning back to the original encampment, but were thwarted off now, by the evercoming blizzard; which has now become sturdy, and ferocious. I have made the conscious decision as well as the others, that we are to head back to our previous camp in which, we had left and embarked from just today. For I felt, that there was no way at all, that we could trek and make it ultimately towards the destined camp, in which we were truly to meet the others. “We must all go back, retreat back to our encampment from this morning. I do feel that we cannot go on through this storm. It is much too overbearing, and strong for us to handle to say the least, try to thwart off!” I said. Sir Wellington and Walters agreed, and so acquiesced with me in the end. “Your right dear boy, we cannot fight against, the acts of Mother Nature herself; for she is much too sturdy, and trenchant!” exclaimed Sir Wellington. Walters would then, make reference to our predicament as well. “I must concur with the both of you, that we can’t go on; for the distance is much too greater, and much too farther. It would be a disaster, and suicide to continue with this madness. I am sure that the others would understand, and I am quite sure and quite certain, that the others are experiencing the same weather conditions, that we are presently experiencing at this very same moment in time!” We then all through the grace of God, made it back to our morning encampment, and were able to tread through the difficult snow and ice; and make it with all our faculties in tact. But there were symptoms now of dear frostbite, and of dear influenzas now becoming slowly evident and traceable throughout some of us; and it was just a matter of time I fear, that they would start to increase, and grow duly in time.

6:00 p.m.-We have been here inside a cave which we were quite fortunate to have found, and located as our shelter earlier this morning. How cold and dank is the weather, and how cold and numbed, our my fingers and toes feeling, as I attempt to keep them active, and maintain the dear circulation of my blood. Good God, how must wretched and galling, must this weather and cold bestow upon our visages and tormented bodies? I wonder if I should be manumit, and free from the manacles that were bonding me, by the hour and day? Nothing seems doggerel, and so trivial anymore to this point; even a meagre piece of bread seems to be essential, and binding. Anew and anew I wonder, and ponder about what exactly our we to accomplish here. I posed that exact question to my fellow colleagues. “Tell me Sir Wellington, what have we accomplished, on this mission; though it still be young? We have not seen nor hide or hare of the creature, and haven’t got close really, except with some apparent footprints, that neither of us can with much complete certainty acknowledge confidently, that they are actually so a manifestation of the creature itself. All that I know is that I have blusters and numbed toes, and my fingers show signs of frostbite, and so do my ears. My body is becoming rigid and stiff, and my back is constantly aching with chronic pain it seems, what tells me, have we really accomplish? And the burning, and the telling question is, how long can we persist and continue, to endure among this despicable and wretched weather?” It was usually Sir Wellington, who was more of the snivelling, and the complaining one. Instead, I was now entrenched in his shoes! “My dear boy, I don’t really know what to say to you except that I truly don’t know though I do share the same afflictions, and aches that you feel; but at my advanced age, I tend to feel them at a much more cursory rate, if I should say so!” He then turned to Walters and asked him, about his own proper opinion. “I must so differ this question to Professor Walters, who might have a different prospective one perhaps much more efficacious, and percipient than mine.” Walters much like ourselves, was quite cold and quite perturbed, by the wretched environs and surroundings, that was all around us presently. But unlike us, he was rather much more inurgorated, and invigorated in strength and vitality. “Well, I can only surmise our situation by best saying, that if we do not find the creature soon then, it will be much more feasible, that the weather conditions mainly the cold, and the snow, will be much more telling, than the creature himself. I might seem so vigorous and strong in my agility and body, but I am rather no different than either one of you. My body does too ache and boy, I don’t know how much longer can my body hold out especially my aching toes, and fingers!” “The blizzard, does seem to be much more so apparent, and trenchant in it’s compelling force, and magnitude. I am afraid, that we will not be able to leave this area, at least, perhaps for some days or so. I am afraid, that Mother Nature does not seem to be receptive, and co-operating with our plans. I am baffled to know, what will behold for us in time. Since we have arrived truly at this dubious area, the weather and snow, has not been rather so pleasant or favourable to us!” exclaimed Sir Wellington. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t see this place as being, nothing more than wretched, and abandoned. Here we are drenched, and mired within a forsaken place in time. A place in which, time itself it appears has pass by, so ever furtively!” I poignantly, stated. There we were all entrenched into a cave near a frozen ravine and knoll, which was ever so more covered, and glazed in hardened ice. The heat of the flames of the fire so, was the warmth of our comfort; and that of our bodies as well. The lanterns, have served it’s purpose well, and it has allowed us to at least see and descry our surroundings, and ambience within the cave itself. I do long now for my bed ever so more, and it has been a week, since I last took a bath or shaven.

12:00 p.m.-Just as we were sleeping, we then were awakened by a vociferous and obstreperous noise. It was more of a din then, that of a howling and haunting howl. It appeared to have been coming austral, although it appeared to have resonated, and echoed athwart. When I came to, I quickly rose to my feet, and then headed for the entrance of the cave. I was met by the others, who had apparently heard the same loud, and strange noise and sound that I had heard. “Did you hear the same thing, that I heard!” I exclaimed. “Yes, I heard the noise, and I tell you, that it did not sound like any creature, that I have ever heard of!” said Walters. “Could it have been a yak, or a wild wolf of some kind?” I queried. Tengri would then profess, “No, it was a yeti!” We then Walters and I, looked at him and questioned him, about his absolute certainty. “How could you be one-hundred accurate that what we heard, was not a yak, or a wolf?” There was no jocularity or miff in his eyes and in his words. What there was, was a tone of seriousness and indeed much profoundness. “I tell you my dear professors that it was the yeti that we all heard. A yak does not make that sort of noise. He is a timid creature and a wolf, does not howl like that neither. I tell you this because I have heard the call of these creatures, and I have heard the call of the yeti as well!” Sir Wellington then interjected by saying, “I am in agreement, and in consonance with what Tengri had said; for I do believe his words have truth and have valor! I must take at face value what he says after all gentlemen, he is amongst all three of us the only one, who has seen the creature; and who is from this region, and area itself. Thus, I must infer so to him, when it comes to answers; and especially when it pertains to, the matter of the creature itself.” I along with Walters concurred after all, who were we but mere foreigners, and Westerners. “We better attempt to get our rest and our sleep for tomorrow, shall be a hectic and difficult day ahead, for all of us here!” Sir Wellington said. “Yes, your are right Sir Wellington!” Walters responded. We then headed back to sleep despite the frigid cold, which was quickly causing one to frit and to dodder. Thank God for our lanterns, and for the flames of the fire. At least, through this much wretched and fowl bombardment and barrage of snow, that has been thrown and canted onto us, we are still alive and intact all of us! I wonder if tomorrow shall the be same as today, and I do wonder as well, how the others are fairing? Professor Hansen’s Journal 29 December-We have found ourselves trapped, within the confines of a remote, and a nearby stream; due to the active, and continuing blizzard storm outside, which has prevented us from returning to our first encampment. We were to arrive at the camp yester, but the wretched and terrible weather, has prevented us from leaving or moving about, for that matter. I am much so thankful, that we are all alive so, and that nobody has died from frostbite just yet; but one of the Sherpas, is slowly dying I am afraid. If he is not taken back then, he will die of frost bite. We are all suffering the same symptoms, and the cold is but only of one concern. The thought of disease and of the rapidly descension of our food is entering so, my mind as well. Hitherto, we still have enough food and rashents; but I fear that if we do not find the creature soon then, we will either have to retreat back down the mountains; and back to the Sherpa village below, or either face the grim and dreaded possibility of dying uphere in the mountains in the middle, of nowhere. I report that even the pompous Mr. Fuller and his men, have survived the cold and weather like myself; but like myself, are beginning to falter slowly by the day. I am worry about the status of Group B. I wonder if they are within shelter itself, or I dread to say, they are either somewhere out there or that they are all dead by now, killed by either frostbite, or perhaps even malnutrition. I must think effectively, about what I am to do next. I can only speculate, and attempt to surmise what the future shall bestow upon us, during this expedition. I have often envisioned our success, but now more and more, I have begun to envision our failure despite the fact, that it has been only ten days since we embarked, on our expedition; and nearly two weeks since we left Switzerland. As one looks at this barren land, one imagines what the Ice Age was perhaps, some many millions, or even billions of years ago?

1:09 a.m.-We are still ensconced and entrenched, in this small and confined area of this cave. It reminds me a bit of Denmark, and the snow and ice is glacial as the areas of my Denmark, but never is it this cold itself! I can recall my memories of visited my good uncle Johannes, and our visits to Bornholm in the Baltic Sea. How those days of fishing for trout and salmon, were but a feast in itself. I can remember Uncle Johannes ways of trading, especially with the Dutch, and with the feisty English as well. We have spent the day and the morning until now, speaking thus about many array of topics, from my childhood to Mr. Fuller’s antics, and great heroic dashing adventures which to him, were greater or equal to his boyhood favourite Tom Sawyer and Daniel Crocket. The more that I find myself amongst the presence of Mr. Fuller, I realised how enduring is his charm, and his wits as well. He often speaks in such basic manner much like us, but indeed sometimes, his seems to be too grandiose, and too pompous for any man to accept and acquiesce to. Why I heard say despite the torment, and chill of the storm, remark such fustian things, “Why this storm ain’t nothing but a cat and mouse game, why, I find a fitting to say, that no storm can ever defeat, the Great Austin Fuller!” Or he would say, “Why, I have a seen worst in my life, and have treaded the earth from the deserts of Africa, the mountains of the Andes, down to the wild wilderness of America!”

7:03 p.m.-We continued with this languish, and tormented uncertainty, for night has befallen so from the day and still, the threat of the storm persists and endures. Mr. Fuller and his men seem to be once again involved, in their illicit ways and manners. Mr. Fuller played his fiddle, which he had brought with him; whilst the Cree Toot, danced his tribal dance, and the Zulu, joined in with the festivity. I could heard the raucous, and commotion of the music, and dancing as if in some sick manner, that were dancing the tones of a high-society ball. I found, that the Sherpas soon joined in the festivity frockling, and celebrating in a way. I also found his amusement to be rather interesting, and since it was worthless to stand still, and freeze to death, I rather felt that the activity was rather necessary, and so soothing to my feet. Thus, I joined in the old festivities. Though my feet where but swollen, and so bouffant with blusters, I had fritted and so doddered them athwart.

1:00 a.m.-I was truly awakened during the night by the screams of a yak, who appeared to been attacked, by some strange creature. “What is it, Sherab?” He replied, “It looks as if, a yak had been attacked and killed. I then asked, “What killed him Sherab?” Sherab thence, replied with a stern look on his face, “He was killed, by a yeti!” Mr. Fuller happened to hear Sherab’s utterance of the yeti, being called the killer. “Did he say, what I thought he said?” I then turned to him and uttered, “Yes, you have heard right!” He then went for his pistol, and he then came back saying, “If it is that varmint that killed that yak, then we should hunt that critter down now!” I quickly admonished him by conveying the truth of our predicament, which was the blizzard itself. “Are you mad Mr. Fuller, have you not forgotten about the blizzard that is still outside? If you step outside to hunt the creature then, you most likely will get lost; and more, freeze to death!” It did not take long for the idea to hit the core and marrow to penetrate the even stalwart mind of Mr. Fuller even though I must admit, that he did not take kind to humiliation or amenable to the idea, that he had to bear under any authority that simply was not his. His rather devilish and rather acidulous expression, genuflected his obedience and compliance, at least for the time being. “Really, I reckon that you’re right. I guess through my haste, and my instincts as a hunter must a have boiled, the underneath of my skin! Why I reckon, that I owe you’ll a darn apology!” I was at first a bit surprised by Mr. Fuller’s apologetic remark, but since I realised, that it was best to not offend, nor insult him. That night, I thought about to what extent, and was my control and authority still, a grasp and hold on the ruthless, and feckless hunter? The cries of the yak did indeed, haunt me throughout the night.

30 December-Today the storm has subsided, and was subdued to a certain extent. The storm was apparently rendered to a heavy breeze and cold wind; but the one thing that persisted and did indeed continue, was the onslaught of the snow, who’s snowflakes could still be felt, so piercing and penetrating, the cold cheeks of one’s own face. After we all ate what we could eat, which was still somewhat respectable and enticing, we then decided that the prospect of finding some good and decent meat was now penetrating the surface of our minds. Through the storm some of us, had lost our rashents, and supplies out of our struggle to return. The Sherpa man, is slowly dying and I fear that he has been indeed, contaminated with somekind of illness, which could be somekind of disease or malady. He is feverishly wan, and his body temperatures and his chills, denote the chilling evidence of his illness, that is so ever evident, and much clear. I have tried to alleviate his pain, and his chills, but I do fear that unless he is returned back to the village then, he will soon die. I am torn to whether or not send ourselves into the depth of the storm, even if it be mild, and docile now. When I awoke, I would be surprisevely surprised and astonished to see, that Mr. Fuller and his band of misfits, were not present in the cave but instead, they had left the safety and protection of the cave and instead persisted to find, or locate the dead carcass of the supposed yak, that could be heard being killed last night.

12:04 p.m.-At last Mr. Fuller and his band of men then, finally returned to the cave. I could see a tremendous smirk, and delightful and joyous expression on his face. It was as if, he had been on one of his wild adventures; and brought back his trophy, and was willing to thus gloat, about his immortal prize. I was furious and irked, by his pompous discourse and action. When I confronted him, I immediately asked him, “Where in the damn hell, were you at Mr Fuller? You were not given permission, to trek on your own and yet, you blatantly disobeyed my authority and thence, disrespected my command as well!” He then with a sinister grin on his visage remarked, “Calm down my dear Danishman, we only went out to have a stroll or as we do say, back home on the ranch, we went a hunting for game!” He then hawed before, he then responded with a stern conviction, “By the way, as far as this authority, that you have over me and my men, you a better hope for your sake my dearest Danishman, that you find that damn varmint or else, you might find yourself,” he then spited out some of the tobacco that he had inside his mouth then, replied with direct intention, “Perhaps six feet deep buried, in the ground!” I quickly asked him, “Is that a threat my dear Mr. Fuller?” He only laughed and then replied, “Why you can interpret it, in any way that you want to, my good Danishman!” It was then, that I realised that my grip and control on him, was quickly slipping. I was face to face with the domineering and dashing hunter himself. I knew that one day soon, we would much like the men who use to duel it out in the 1700’s, would have duel it out, either with a pistol or with our own two hands. I quickly felt the need to change the heated conversation, by asking of what exactly was he hunting for. “Tell me Mr. Fuller, you say that you went a hunting then, if you do not mind me asking, what exactly did you shoot at?” He then felt complacent, and at ease to reveal to me, what exactly he had found or shot. “Well my dear Danishman, we did go a hunting like a pack of hounds, and we did so some shooting but we managed along the way, to find a mighty interesting development indeed!” I was bemused by what he was trying to insinuate or mention to me, and so I asked him. “What are you trying to say to me Mr. Fuller?” He then told me that it would be better for me to come with him. He said, that he had something worth while to show me. Since the storm was but only a mild one now, I felt no threat in not going. But I felt that it was urgent that upon our good return, we would then begin our trek at once, before it was too late; for the sun would then, set and the darkness of the night would befall, upon the landscape. “All right!” I uttered. It was then after a mile or so away from the cave, that we stumbled onto the horrific, and ghastly sight of a dead yak laying there; amongst the depth of the snow. He had been bludgeoned, mauled to death, by what appeared to be without a doubt, a strong and powerful creature. “Mit Gud, what ever did this to this creature, had to be mammoth and mastodonic in size; and in shear strength!” I oddly exclaimed. Mr. Fuller proceeded to explain to me of his theory of who, was the culprit behind this viscious, and barbaric attack. “I know and we both know, who killed this critter Danishman, it was that cotton-picking critter itself!” I was at bit hesitant to jump to conclusions, but I knew deep inside of me, that Mr. Fuller was absolutely correct; and my affirmation would be pointed out to me by Mr. Fuller, who would then direct me, to the teethmarks found on the animal. “Right there on the hide of the critter, you see the teethmarks. Why I tell you, that in all my adventures abroad, I have seen all form of varmints and critters, from the savage bitemarks of the African lion, down to the bite marks of the Siberian Tiger; and I tell you Danishman, that those marks there that you see, are worser than any of those that I had a mentioned!” I saw the teethmarks engraved in the mass of the animal, and then saw with my own eyes, what appeared to be after using the modern day upgraded magnifying glass, which I had brought along the long journey, what he had stated. I knew then, it was confirmed by Sherab, that indeed the bitemarks that were left engraved, and enmeshed into the animal’s hide were that, that were made by a yeti itself. It was at least a sign now that the creature was near, or the creatures for that matter. The desiring and lingering question was, where exactly nearby was it? And if it be near then, it had to at least been aware perhaps of our presence. Unfortunately for us, the tracks of the beast were not traceable nor visible. The snow of the storm, had so piled up a heap of a couple of inches of snow, onto the surface of the ground plateau. The other unfortunate thing, that continued to nag us was the fact, that despite our good claims and theories, we had yet to see the creature either materialise or be present to our naked eyes. That was what haunted us, and I felt the creature was near, and it was a matter of time so, before human and yeti would come face to face. I dreamed and fancied that day to come again, for the memory of my last visit here is still fresh, and vivid in my imagination; and within the old depths of my mind. I would pay a thousand crones or a million ores, to have the chance and great opportunity to meet face to face man to beast, with the illusive creature himself. I often recalled in my memories, my infatuation and love for the seaman stories of the Great Danish Vikings of the past such as Thor and others, and of my passion for Captain Ahab. I often mired myself in their adventures and heroic statures, and convictions. I often dreamed of my summer visits, to Greenland with my parents, as I saw by the sea, and dreamed of the great searovers of the past; and as the ebb of the tide brushed my feet, and as I played with my ships, I could envisioned so myself entrenched, within the toils of the adventures. There upon the barren reefs of the long and wide shoreline, I would with seashells of sort, hear the echoing of my cogent voice, shouting my voice to be heard across the world! 1:15 p.m.-I had decided that it was best to stay here, and seek the creature instead of heading back to our rendez-vous with the others. I forsook the voyage back and unfortunately, began to astir in me the urge and selfish intent in finding the creature, at whatever cost that it meant; even if that meant forsaking the others in particular, my fellow colleagues. Since the storm had all but subsided and seized, we then made plans, to make a plan much well thoughtout for the creature. Mr. Fuller had felt that it was now clear, and possible to put out more of his effective traps, or snares. He had his men, put them out all within the perimeters of where the yak, was located at. His traps were much more bigger now and that meant, that it would mean at least, injuring the creature; but not killing it. In effect all I wanted was, to render the creature incapable of fleeing or escaping for that matter. I was now thinking like Mr. Fuller, except I still within my dear own conscience and mind, knew that the creature could not be killed but, that with all cost in mind, had to be brought back alive; not dead! I realised that despite our somewhat unity, and strange collaboration in finding the yeti, I could not trust Mr. Fuller one bit for our one difference in our opinion and in thought, was still vastly great and severe. I wanted to preserve the creature, and he wanted the opposite. He wanted to kill the creature, and bring it back as a proud trophy of his. A collection I imagine that had, many interesting stories attached to them. “You can rest assure now my Danishman, that we will find the critter, even if it costs our lives in return. Why that’s, what the adventure is all about!” I then, proceeded to ask him about what exactly was in his sick, and perturbed mind. “What do you mean by that Mr. Fuller?” With his customary smirk and sinister grin, he replied in haughtiness. “My dear fellow brethren, you a fail to understand the cards of the game! You see in the game of poker, one has a deck of cards in which he is dealt and at his wanted liberty, he can throw down, any cards he wants to throw down, and ask for more. The object of the game, is to get a flush why then, by getting a royal flush, you could a beat anyone of your competitors. And the thrill, and excitement of the game itself, the suspense, the not knowing I tell you, it can burn through a man’s boots you know! But in the end, the excitement of winning is what, it is all about here my good friend!” He then, spitted out his tobacco and said to me, “What my old daddy use to say to me, back when I was a growing up you know, he use to talk about his good old days fighting for the south in the Civil War you know!” He then, paused to once again, spit out another round of his tobacco which he told me was given to him, by the Great Sioux Chieftain himself, Sitting Bull; while he was but a young adolescent, travelling with Buffalo Bill. I was not sure whether, or not to believe his grandiose claim of having met these great people, that he claimed to have known. I was a bit ignoramus, to not known much about these mysterious people of his life, thus I much unwittingly inferred, about them to him. “Excuse me Mr. Fuller, but since I am a European, and above all a Danishman, I apologise for not knowing too well, about these certain men who you speak of with much reverence, and honour. So, if you can do me the pleasure of telling me who they are then, I will gladly listen!” He then chuckled, and chortled a bit. “Why Sitting Bull, was the man who skinned alive General Custer you know; and my dear good friend Buffalo Bill was William Cody himself. But he never had much of a liking to that name, so he always preferred to be called Buffalo Bill. You see my dear Danishman, he was the greatest showman, and Indian scout ever. He go a kill any man including an Indian, with his bare hand; and he carried a rifle in his hand and shot it, like if it was a splitting image of Jesse James and Billy the Kid!” I could see how easily he could manipulate, and dramatise the whole account. He seemed to be much like a schoolboy in his demeanour at times, and at other times, he seemed to be so ruthless, and extremely wily. He reminded me so much like my dreaded companion, from earlier schooling in Copenhagen; and my visits to Amager Island nearby. I believed his name was but Mogens Wieghorst; a tall stoutly lad, who would so attempt to make my childhood a living hell. And through him, I discovered the courage and bravery, that I did not have before. Why his old words still at times resonate in my mind. “Ni er meget god i liv, Ni er med ett lille dreng! Detta er alt!” I suppose that in all of our lives, we all must have a Mogens Wieghorst, in our lives at one time or the other. After our discussion we waited behind the safety, and cover of rocks and boulders, which were nearby the area. We all anxiously waited for the creature, waiting for the creature to appear. I had sent one of the Sherpas to take back his fellow dying countryman, back toward the village down below. I had instructed him, to first head back to the rendez-vous which we were to meet the others back at. I knew that the Sherpa was dying, and that it if he was then to reach the rendez-vous, it would cause perhaps, concern in the part of the others. I had immediately instructed him so, that in the case that he was to reach the appointed rendez-vous with Group B then, he was to report to them of our tidings; and more importantly of our present whereabouts, and that we were still alive and kicking as one says. After an hour of waiting, we then heard a noise a scream of some sort coming, from the cave. We all realised that the cry and scream appeared to be that made, by a human being. We then quickly race back to the cave, leaving behind only the Cree, and the Zulu to stay at watch for the creature. When we made it back to the cave, we then raced inside the cave, and found no presence of no one inside the cave; nor a sign of anyone being mauled or murdered by something. It was when we thence stumbled just outside the perimeters of the cave, about a couple of feet nearby, that we stumbled onto the horrific, and macabre scene of the deaths of the two Sherpas that had apparently left the camp, and returned to the point of the rendez-vous. There on the ground was but first, the dying Sherpa who had been strapped so, to the stretcher in which he had been put on. From what it appeared, he did not even have a chance. His body was badly, mauled and badly disfigured.

It was not out of the realm of possibility, that the man could have died more presumably from the effects of shock and fear. Perhaps upon seeing the creature, he panicked and his heart stopped and ceased to exit. His face had marks of long claw marks, and his flesh had been bitten and eaten from. It would not take long before we would so stumble, and come across his fellow companion; the other Sherpa. When we discovered the Mongoloid, he was laying against a steep rock, it appeared that he had attempted to fight off the creature; but was unsuccessful in his dear futile attempt. It appeared that his cry and scream, was the one that we had all heard echoing so from afar. It was one of his fellow Sherpas who found him, mauled as well to death. It would seem as well, that he was visciously and ferociously attacked, by a powerful creature it seemed. Once I got there my expression was, “Mit Gud, Jeg tror icke detta!” I fear that if their bodies were not retrieved back to the cave, they would rot out there in the snow. So we decided to take back the bodies back to the cave, where I could fully examine them, there in the warmth of the campfire inside. I could hear Mr. Fuller remarks, “I reckon now you’ve got proof there my dear Danishman, that the critter exists!” I still kept, and maintained my reservation; and was still a bit sceptical about actually believing, that the culprit and scoundrel, was infact, a yeti itself. I still needed more proof. It was then that Mr. Fuller, not only had stumbled across a path of footprints left engraved, and institched in the snow; but he also found remnants of what would appear to be, traces of body hairs of some sort. He then summoned me, and told me, to come quickly, that he had something to show me. When I arrived, I found him with one knee kneeling on the ground surface. I could not tell what he was doing, because his back was facing me. When I got nearer he then rose to his feet, and then showed me not only the anonymous tracks made in the snow; but the traces of visible hair which he had found nearby the tracks themselves. “Here’s your proof Danishman!” I saw with my eyes, the remnants and traces of fury white hair of which, resembled that of the snow itself. The hairs were but a small particle of the creature. The pieces of hair were about two inches in length, and a centimetre perhaps in width. What immediately daunted on me, was that hue and coloration of the textures of the hair. It was as snow white, as the snow that one treaded upon. I knew then, that we were dealing with a chameleon; a creature so adapted to blind, and hide within the one constant thing which was all around the area, snow itself. “Yes, this seems to indicate a primate of some sort. I have never seen such a fine, and beautiful specimen of hair; only when I had found a camlet once whilst I was in Asia. I must say, that this must be taken back to cave, and analysed more thoroughly. Only then indeed can we, successfully tell if these hairs, belong to the creature called the yeti. Mr. Fuller, was much more eager and fustian, about chasing and tracking down the creature at the present time then, he was fond of having me examine, and make studies of the hair samples. “Why I think, we ought to go and find that varmint now, while we can my Danishman!” I then thought of it not prudent, nor wise to go of searching in the middle of the vast nomadic region. Instead, I suggested to the dear Texan, that it was more efficacious to us in the end, if we would return back to the cave; and have them analyse and better detailed then it was to, simply go off on some wild goose chase of which, could bring us the same corollary or result, that fell upon these dead pour souls. “You must think rationally Mr. Fuller, why that would be suicide! We must know first, what exactly it is that we are dealing with then, we could perhaps proceed, with your search in an much more effective, and cautious manner. Surely, you must understand that premise!”

Mr. Fuller understood only the language of pure simplistic and selfish greed and pleasure, and was a man who would even forsake the sake of his own mother, if it meant having a chance to in his own words, “Ride onto the saddles of a wild stallion, and gitting up unto the sunset!” so much like his revered idol, Jesse James! I wondered at times about his demeanour even up to this point. I knew that his urge, and drive in finding the beast, was becoming much more so cabalistic and feral. He was as it seemed, a creature himself who had to be tamed. I understood his rather animalistic tendencies and nature. He was every ounce of the word, a true hunter and stalker. I tried to reason to him, but he would have no part of it. I then knew unfortunately, I needed him more than ever; for the two men that were lost or hainously attacked and killed, were no other than two of my own Sherpas. I had only but one other Sherpa with me, and that was Sherab himself. Indeed we were outnumbered by the presence of Mr Fuller and his band of ruffians, but I felt that as long as he Mr. Fuller could not find, nor track down the creature, I was of utmost value, and worth to him. It was as one would say, a double sword. On one hand, I detested and loathe this man, but on the other hand, I was no better than him; for in the end, I too was just as eager and anxious, to capture the creature as well. I felt there was a change in control a slight bit, but I attempted to keep, and maintain my authority and control on Mr. Fuller and his men as well; but I wondered once again, for how long would that maintain itself? I realised that despite my distrust and dislike for Mr. Fuller, that I had to reason with him. I agreed to his demand, but I ushered in my own. “I will consent, and agree with your plan; but I will not partake in it, until I have examined entirely, the contents of the hair specimens. If you wish to proceed with you endeavour then, I will not hold you to an obligation whatsoever; but I may tell you, that it would be better to head back to where the others are at, and see if you could find the creature or creatures, that attacked the men!” He asked me, “How can you be sure, that there are more than one critter here involved?” I then replied, “Because I know!” It was then agreed that I would returned back to the cave, and analyse the contents of the fibbers of the hairs; whilst Mr. Fuller would return back to his men, and stay in vigilance, of the creature. I was fortunate enough to have my rifle with me, and I knew that the creature would probably not return soon, since it had obtained what it wanted; and that was food and supplies, which were discovered to be, missing from the men. 6:00 p.m.-I have spent nearly four hours or so, examining and studying arduously, and feverishly at length the samples and specimens of hairs that were found and then retrieved, under the lens of my microscope and I must confess, that the creature does indeed belong to a primate of some kind. It resembles that of an ape, or a wild monkey from Africa. Although, I cannot be accurate nor certain, that the hairs are that of a yeti, I can be sure, that they do indeed belong to an animal or creature, that is a distant relative of the ape, and perhaps that of man. For in my dear studies at Oxford, I have come across vividly the newly fresh theory of Darwin’s, greatest claim of dearest evolution. The process in which man is to have descended, and originated from the seeds of apes themselves. Could it be as a scientist I frick, that we did truly evolved from the depths, and breed of the primitive ape himself? I must be cautious and wary in that observation, but to discredit so, such a brilliant man like Darwin would be disingenuous to my profession, and to my toils in old science itself. I must regard his findings and teachings, as being modern and inclined to be much believed by us the modern thinkers of today. We who our on the brink of the twentieth century, must steer and lead, the new thinkers of the future. Mr. Fuller and the men have returned back to the cave, whereupon his arrival he reported that he had not found the yeti. He was forced, to return back to the cave, without having to find another visible trace of the creature. I could see the frustration, the anger a bit in his eyes; and in his careless expression. When I questioned him about whether or not he had spotted the creature, or if it had stumbled along the region, he just squinted his eyebrows and said, “Nothing!” I then revealed to him the information that I had found, not entirely. I dare not admit nor reveal so, my exclusive, and internal findings I had discovered about the creature. I felt that they were, much too advanced and goforth for him to comprehend. I could tell that he was more than fretted; for he did I sense felt a bit cajoled, and foisted by my revelations of the creature to him. But finis, he was not a card nor deft, to see between the lines; so to speak. I did not mean to gudgeon, nor deceive him, but I had to take precautions, and measurements to prevent him so, from knowing more about the scientific aspect of this. I just merely felt, that it was not the appropriate, nor the risenlick time to execute that endeavour. I instead decided that, it was better to appease, and assuade him then, to have him as my foe, or enemy for the nonce. It was agreed that we were to make our next voyage, out tomorrow in the morning. Unfortunately with the death of the two Sherpas, we would have to spend one man; and send him back to the rendez-vous. It was determined that since my man Orbak was necessary, Mr. Fuller would have to spare one of his men. So, he instructed and ordered, that one of his Texas compatriots, would have to be the one to go. A fellow by the name of Billy Bob, was the unfortunate one chosen. I spend the night thinking about my findings, but once again, I spend the night singing and crooning navy songs and old Danish lovesongs of the past; including my good rendition of one of my favourite love songs that my father sang to me, which he had sung to my mother. It was a song called “Øjerne at Jeg elsker å se!”

(The eyes that, I love to see!)

Ditt øjerne er meget vakkre som et blomst på landet vaere. Barre til ser dem det er øjor mit hjerte stoppe. Vaer så god, om fra Jeg kan å spørge. Aldrig å la dit øjer å lukke. Fordi, på detsammatid Jeg vil dø. Vaerende, at aldrig ditt øjer Jeg vil ser dem. O Ana, mit elskov er for deg altid! O Ana, mit elskov er for deg altid! O Ana, Jeg elsker deg!

31 December-Today we awake on the dawn of the new year approaching. I wonder truly if the new year shall be any different, than that of these wretched last days of the year of 1898. I do wonder about what is happening, with my other fellow colleagues. I do wonder, what would they have said upon my discovery. I am certain, that would be envious of me. I awoke, with a severe headache in my head. I am afraid, that I drunk and consumed too much of that old dear Mexican Tequila. And with a bit of my own brand of whiskey called simply, “Copenhagen frisk!” I must say, that it reminded me so much about my drinking days, with my “Vrenne fra Copenhagen!” I set off with Mr. Fuller and his men, whilst his man Billy Bob, headed off for his journey back to the rendez-vous. Mr. Fuller had determined that we would have to expand, and sprew our dear periphery around the area; and make it much more expanded. The skies appeared to be much more receptive to our venturing, and the sun appeared to come out of it’s shell. Thankfully, and mercifully the weather outside was for the first time, amenable and quite so receptive. I woke up with a wanion of a sense, for the death of the two Sherpas, had to be revenged. We headed back to where we were but yesterday and we then spread out our ground with Mr. Fuller and his men on one side, and the other side I along with Sherab, would be forced to patrol, the other half of the area.

12:10 p.m.-We were forced to return back to camp, leaving only once again, the presence of Cree and the Zulu behind. We returned to eat, and to keep our feet warm as well. Standing out there in the cold, was unbarring to our feet; and our ears and the rest of our body. Mr. Fuller, was reluctant and hesitant to return, but I believe his body made him realise, that it was best to heed to it then, to make it suffer and dree. I was a bit disappointed much like him, and not being able to locate the creature. I was starting to realise, how illusive the creature really was indeed. I was able to gabble with the American about our plan, and even more importantly our need to be more patient in our endeavour; but neither he nor I could bear the suffering of the cold to much longer I feel. Although I do not hear those words coming from his mouth I feel, that he vies, and strives to urgently find the creature at whatever cost. How I wonder how much longer, will Mr. Fuller’s impatience only be, his own devil in the end? He seems to me, to be much more galvanise in his pursuit. Why he seems to reflect the impatience of an old Scottish cateran. Despite the cold his body maybe aching like us but his spirit and determination, is equal to a spring of a gambado or the charge of a wild buffalo.

8:09 p.m.-We had spreaded our area of coverage to include a glen nearby, about a mile away from our original sight of coverage. We once again, failed to find any footprints, or hair traces of the creature; and were forced to return back to camp. But when we returned, we would all soon discover, that the cave had been ransacked and looted. But by who, that was the question? It had transpired, in absentia. It must have betided when, we left the cave alone; and the creature must have entered the cave, after seeing us leave it. How intelligent and bright is this creature, and he sees, and knows our every step. He must gang slowly, and not trudge deeply. His movements and his actions denote that of intelligence, and that of a man who knows his surroundings too well. I dread to think, and hearken to my recent thought of Darwin’s evolution. Can it be man once did roamed the earth as a generic primate? He gyres like a animal, but yet his calculations and hasty actions are that planned, and that of a brain or encephalon much advanced and intelligent, than any common creature. “That varmint did this!” uttered Mr. Fuller. I could see the rage so, in his eyes. Indeed the creature is witty and gash, but I must think. I must find of a way in which, we could capture the creature. Mr. Fuller saids that more traps, snares are necessary. I realised that after tonight’s incident, we must not take the creature for granted, and intelligence must be truly applied. But Mr. Fuller’s gassy talk, has given me an idea. I believe that if we entice the creature and bait it with the one thing which it seeks most food then, we shall surely capture it!

2:08 a.m.-I would be awakened like the others, to a loud redoant noise coming from outside once again; but this time one of our men, would catch a glance at it. I was told by Sherab at once, that one of Mr. Fuller’s man Sizwe, had been almost attacked by the creature. But he so managed to frighten off the beast, by using the fire of his torch light, to scare the creature off. One could see the fear in the eyes of the African, as he so explained expost facto what had happened, and what he had seen with his own eyes. His remarks, “I saw the devil himself truly, and he was coming, for my soul. The spirits are evil here, and we are walking among, sacred ground!”

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

31 December-Today we are on the edge and eve of a new year, and I found myself many miles away from, my beloved England. How I can feel the taste of a good Burgundy, in my good tasty tastebuds; and some good and tasty hors d’heures. How I yearn to be in the halls, and foyers of Sotheby’s, celebrating new years with the presence of the members of the Academy. I do truly yearn and fancy, the commodious shelter and comfort of my house; but the reality is, that I am faced here in the middle of nowhere many miles away from civilisation, or even a village. I was soon confronted by the presence of Walters who came to tell me, that the weather had subdued; and the storm had ended. Enough to grant us the opportunity, to head back to the rendez-vous spot in which we were supposed, to meet each other. “I believe, that we must take advantage of the clear up, and amelioration of the weather and the fading of the storm Professor Bunbury!” I looked at him, and then said, “Are you certain of that, Professor Walters?” Dear Sir Wellington then interrupted by saying, “By Jove my boy, he is correct in his assumption. And I too, my dear boy concur, with Professor Walter’s opinion.” It was then agreed, and arranged after I had my aperçu, that we would at last despite it being some days overdue, to journey back to our good rendez-vous to join the others. As I stared outside, the sound of the wind howling and vibrating, like an echoing call encompassed the area. If one was to perform hypsometry, one would indeed encounter a forsaken wasteland that although, was the epitome of a cold winter day to a dearest hyperborean; to an outlander, it was Hades itself! Sir Wellington decided to smoke a bit, in order to preoccupy himself. He had apparently progressed enough to be well again. I had dreaded and feared, that perhaps he was close to pneumonia; and that his influenza was quickly so advancing. But it seems, that for the moment, his vivacity has superseded, any symptoms of illness. I could see his sturdiness and his mirth, as I could see the smoke come out of his good chibouk, which was a Turkish pipe that he had bought so, whilst we were in Romania. My good Sir Wellington prefers the Turkish name çubuk, to the plain generic English connotation. I shall not quarrel with him on such matters pertaining to semantics, language, or chiasmus. If he prefers or druthers, I will let him gloat, like a Turkish chiaus. Truly I ask, such chicanery is merited? Certainly, I can’t take away that fizz of his. I must be acquiescent in allowing him, to enjoy his own sense of dear diversion. Really I ask myself, his smoking is truly few trills, in the sense of the word. “Are we ready I asked the professors, and the men?” Their response was, a resounding yes! It was now set, we were to head back, to the rendez-vous point. Despite the gelid, and sundry amount of snow and ice that jowed at us constantly as a reminder of our predicament, we still nith forward despite our toils and despite the chilblain, which was numbing so more our feet, we went on. At this time several of the men in particular, two of the Sherpas had frostbite in their feet, and were deemed to be taken back to the village, as soon as possible. Despite my sometimes rather flimsy remarks, I cannot underline, that we are still facing a dramatic crisis anent to our health. For if we are to stay, in this endeavour longer. And if we are not successful in finding the creature, and if the weather becomes much more dire then I am afraid, that there will come, a crucial time in this endeavour, where we must decide to rather stay here where death could be eminent or quit; and return back to the village many miles away from here. Much aloof it seems though, it is the closest inkling of civilisation, that any man shall know. We got our things intact, and set off.

10:00 a.m.-We left the area in which we were confined to for days, whilst the torment of the storm impaired us, to wander about. It was good to travel and trek, and all that one could do whilst they are confined and restricted, is yammer and so snivel, about the wretchedness of the conditions outside of the cave. It was like being hackled from the rest of society it seems. Indeed it was enough to make a man’s hair, become gray or grizzle. We had set out to return, to the rendez-vous point in which we were to meet the others. Though the cover, or hulyan of the snow was still thick and viscous, we pressed forth. The thryl was to advance and reach our destination. Indeed it was angstful, and painful to tread through the difficult snow and the ice. Even though it was rather carse to see snow and ice all around us, one could not accept it, as being non-chalant. The snow by now was so common as it touched, and wrepped my cold cheeks. To and fro, was my slogan. We were all advised, and wary to the predicament, and the situation but still, the cold luft was still hard, to swallow. My feet ache and writhe, and my body was so rigid, and stiff as I trekked through the hard, and difficult landscape. I do believe that perhaps just perhaps, we may find the others waiting there for us already? I had along with the others carried, and carried our necessary equipment and materials with us leaving behind, only the most insignificant of things. I felt as if clems or shackles, were bonding my feet. 2:16 p.m.-We rested and ate, but our stoppage was to be but only momentarily; for we knew that we had to press on, if we were to arrive sometime during the early night. I was feeling, a bit wan and was etiolated as well; much like my fellow companions were. Wretched it be, this fiendish weather, and fiendish devil that lurks amongst us. Such a cur is this fellow called weather, and such a cur, is this creature that desires, to faddle with us. He gives us clues of his existence and propinquity, but he fancies not, to present himself. So blasé, and apathetic is this creature. He is indeed wily, and yet so supercilious as well. Such a crafty, and cunning creature; one capable of being miscible within the environs of his own dear lair, whether it be the wretched snow, or the wretched ice, or the bloody cold itself. I do not fancy to be vulgar and raffish in my gloss, but I cannot help it. Frustration and fret, have begun to sink deeply in the marrow of my inner skin. Contravene to the belief that the creature is only a Nepalese legend, and myth I can attest, that whatever in the bloody hell is out lurking among these cursed mountains, is an unknown creature yearning for us to perhaps, depart from his beloved habitance and domain. I fancied the creature to Shelly’s Frankenstein. How wretched he must be, for his reclusion from the world, must be like the Greek Prometheus! “I do hope that we can reach the rendez-vous point in time, maybe a little after the sun has set. Because,” Walters paused. “What is it Walters, what do you have to say?” Walters took off his gloves, and showed me his hands; which were becoming frost-bitten despite the gloves he worn. “Good God Walters, why did you fail to mention to me the severity of your symptoms?” Walter’s response was, “I wanted to tell you professor, but I myself couldn’t come to tell, my own self!”

9:35 p.m.-We arrived at last thank God at the rendez-vous point, but much to our amazement and surprise, we found the point to be abandoned, and derelict. There all around the area, after searching somewhat with our lanterns and with the flames of the fire, which was our campfire, there were no visible traces nor inklings of where Group A was, or were at. “What could this mean?” Walters asked. I only looked at him, and said, “I do not know, it appears strange to me, that the others Group A, have not yet returned to the camp. I knew that the storm, had prevented them from returning; but I thought that they would like us, be here already.” Sir Wellington then interjected by saying, “Come now gentlemen, let us not rush to conclusions just yet. All that we know, they might be arriving soon. Let us not be haste in our judgement!” After cudgelling I realised, that Sir Wellington had a good point there and besides, it was feasible, that they were on their way. “You do have, a very good point there, Sir Wellington. We must not bestride, or straddle over our own thoughts and proclivities. We must be patient, and rational in our judgements. We must not bereave, nor deprive our intelligence and nous!” We all gathered, at the campfire and waited, and waited; but after several hours had passed by, no news or developments of the others. It was then started to sink it after another hour had passed by, that they were not coming. Such a dear munificent thought, I attached to my dreariness. 1:28 a.m.-It is now a new day, and still no sign or trace of the others. The doubts and concern, were now starting to kindle around the campfire; as the fire itself which was lighted. “Egad, I am concerned, that something perhaps tragic happened to the others!” I mumbled. Sir Wellington who was more of optimistic at times, than negative. “Come now Professor Bunbury, we must be more optimistic, and not pessimistic now my boy!” I realised that Sir Wellington’s point, was so admirable and logical; but still the thought of something bad happening to the others was still a prolific, and constant thought in the mind of all of us, including Sir Wellington himself. After an hour had passed by, we finally retired for the night, with a glimmer and sparkle of hope, that the others if were not arriving were at least, safe and sound. Thank God, for the comfort of the fire, which was a bloody good mittsian for one; especially one who was surrounded by nothing, but wretched cold. The last day of the year of 1898 had abated, and the dawn of the year of 1899, had appeared onto the area. We had put aside the concern of the others, and at least celebrated; or attempted to celebrate, the first crack of daylight of the new year. Despite the fact, that there was no elegant champagne, nor childish mistle toe, nor vaunting balls to congregate, only the old comfort of each other’s company. All that we carried with us, was a dry two-bit bottle of cheap Romanian, distilled wine called un spritz in fact, it was more of a mixture of mineral water and diluted wine. After thence sipping some of the drink it quickly daunted on me, that the bottle of supposed wine, was but nothing more, than a chinzy replica of an exquisite French, or English wine of prestige. I didn’t want to seem overtly indifferent to Sir Wellington, so I chose to be rather mendacious, about my opinion of the wine, after he had himself inquired. “Well, truly Sir Wellington I must admit, that I have not tasted such an out of the ordinary type of wine, you say that it is Romanian, and it was called what?” Sir Wellington then uttered, “Why it’s called, un spritz!” I then proceeded to say, “Well this un spritz, is rather an unique type of wine, that has an unique type of taste as well!” Unlike myself Walters, was not shabby nor leath, to reveal his brackish distaste, for the cheap imitation. “I myself, must be upfront and candid about this, this wine is rather cheap! Forgive me for saying that, but that is the truth isn’t it Professor Bunbury?” I felt a bit trapped in a foxhole, and I wasn’t sure to offend or asperse my dear mentor Sir Wellington by admitting to him, that I too, felt a wee tad the same as my distinguished American colleague, Professor Walters. But in the end, I decided to profess, “With all due respects my dear, and beloved mentor Sir Wellington this wine, is but a froth!” I wasn’t sure of what Sir Wellington’s response, would be, so I waited patiently for his reply. He hawed for a moment, with the bottle still in his hands; and the inscription in Romanian still inscribed on the bottle. And after another gulp or sip of the diluted wine he then, uttered to us all, “By Jove, your blooding right. Although I maybe a bright scientist by God, it is obvious that, I am not a good connoisseur at all! I can recall that wretched Romanian scoundrel who sold it to me say in his native tongue, “Este cel mai bun din România,” He then, translated it by saying to us, “It is the best, from Romania!” “Indeed Sir Wellington you must be much more whisted, in your preference, and choice.” I exclaimed. He then, broke out into laughter; and so did we all. We then raised our small but yet important cups, and then made one golden toast, to the new year. “I make the toast, that this year which is now upon us all, we’ll be a prosperous, and fortunate one for all of us. And I also do pray, that we can find the bloody monster at once. That is all of our wishes I feel is that not so?” I said. Sir Wellington glanced at every one of us, as to affirm his question. We all turned to him with our cups raised, and nodded our head and said “Yes!” Even the Sherpas, who this type of celebration, was all but foreign and weal to them all. There was truly one last toast, it was impetuously requested, by the honourable Professor Jack Walters himself. “I make the toast in behalf of those, who are not with us, either far, or near in particular, my dear fellow colleague Professor Hansen; and the others as well. May God be with them, as he is with us!” Truly it was a solemn reminder of what was a daunting, and inescapable thought, the whereabouts of the others. We all after another hour retired but I once again, was awakened with the dreaded nightmare of before, seeing myself fallen into the cycle of transformation of ape into man. I soon heard the loud howling sound, of what appeared to be the cries of the creature called the yeti. Once again, we were forced to be content with the calls of the creature, but that would all change sooner then, we thought.

1 January, 1899-The sun and daylight itself, has started to permeate and shine through the Asian skies of the Nepalese landscape. And officially the new day and the new year, had befallen upon us. I was told by Sir Wellington, that I had forgotten, that the timezone here was different; and that here in Asia, the new year was to come first, before it was to come to Europe, and to dear England in particular. We spent the morning talking and prating about the haunting cry and howl of the last night, and about the whereabouts of the others as well. The day was cold but not so compared to the previous, and the winter snow storm, had all but faded away into the oblivion. We had decided that some of us, would stay here at the camp; whilst some of us would roam around the perimeters of the camp. Not straying too far but enough to comb the area, for any sight of the others. It was determined by all of us, that the right people indicated in handling the task, would be no other then, one of the Sherpas along with Sir Wellington, who was the most knowledgeable amongst us Westerners, to know about the landscape and in particular, this type of endeavour as well. On the other hand I, and Walters were to remain, and tend to the dying Sherpa. I knew that despite my drudgery and that of Walters as well the Sherpa, had to be taken back to the village as soon as possible. It was determined that within an hour, he was to go. “I am afraid, that there is very little that we can do for you here, he must be taken back to the dear village, where he could be better attended to!” I said. Walters concurred with me, and the Sherpa was indeed conferred, with complete numbness and aphasia. His frostbite was to the point, that he would loose most likely his legs, and in perhaps even more worser afterwards, his own life. “My God I am afraid, that you are correct, in your assumption Professor Bunbury!” I was confident in Walters although, I did not truly know this man but yet from what I knew of him, his reputation was excellent, and stainless. He was well educated, and extremely intelligent. He was one of the best archaeologists, and doctors as well. I admired his qualities and his thew. Truly he was a man who in the archaeologist world, was an asset; and not a detriment like many other madman of my profession. It dawn on me that I would write a letter to England, and back home in particular, to my good old friend, Lord Rutherford. However unlikely it seemed, that my letter could actually arrive promptly let alone reach at all to my dear fellow friend, I knew that it would enlighten my morality and my vivacity, as well. I had to voice myself to someone who was understandable and more importantly, a dear good friend of mine; or I would drive myself to insanity perhaps. I let Walters tend to the Sherpa, as I worked on writing my letter. I knew that I did not have much time to write, but I instead insisted. I tried to stay by the warmth of the campfire, as much as I could in order for my rigid fingers to be so activated enough, to write. I wasn’t sure or what to exactly say, but I knew indeed, that in Lord Rutherford I could confess in him, my worries and concerns.

-Letter from Sir Bunbury to Lord Rutherford: 1

January, 1899. Dear Lord Rutherford, 1 January, 1899 I write this letter to you my dear and fellow friend, from the depths of these mountains themselves in Nepal. It has been several weeks now, since I have now left our good England. I must confess to you so, that the expedition itself, has not been quite a successful one. I am afraid that my expectations so far, have not measure my predicament. Though, it is only but still at it’s initial stage, the cold and the wretched weather itself, is much so unbearable and so unrelentless. My feet are numbed, and almost at the stage of symptoms of frostbite. My fingers writhe in pain in a form of arthritis, and the cartilage of my ears, are almost commatosed; for I can feel, as if they are but to fall off completely, from my ears. The howling wind at times deafens them, that I can’t even hear effectively. Despite all the negativity, the only bright spot as far as the expedition is concerned, we have I gladly report to you, have discovered footprints, and we have heard the creature as well that in itself, is what motivates me, and the others as well. How I fancy, for the day to come quick, that we could come across the wretched creature. Today one of the men is dying, and must be taken back to the village at once. I do pray that he shall not die, and more importantly I pray that in these coming days, there shall be no deaths at all. But my dear friend, that only God can tell. I must go now for the day is long, and our endeavour must go on. I shall attempt to write to you again. Your dear friend, Professor Bunbury.

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

1 January, 1899-I awake to a much clearer and better day. The storm is over and today, shall be good for hunting down the creature. Thankfully the new year is here, and I pray that it gives us blessings. And by crossing over a new leaf then perhaps just then, we shall be fortunate enough, to find that wretched creature soon! I feel perhaps that luck is now on our side, and the more the days go by the more, that we are getting closer to find the creature or creatures. How I yearned for the creature to be found, and brought back and for I, to be the one who will go down in the chapters of history books forever as, the Great Danish scientist Peter Hansen. Why my Denmark, would receive the merit, and the great prestige that it for so long deserves so. Mr Fuller, was up before me, and he apparently was up about searching for the creature. Just as I was getting ready to head out with them, a loud cry could be heard and it sounded not that of a yak, or that of the yeti; but instead a man. “Mit Gud!” What could that be?” I asked myself clearly. I then got my things prepared, and then went to investigate. When I arrived onto the scene, I found Mr. Fuller and his man hovering about, as if something happened. There onto ground, was one of dear Mr. Fuller’s men or trappers, who had been badly mauled to death, and was barely breathing. Mr. Fuller was at his side, trying aimlessly to get out any information, that he could get out from the man at any cost even if that meant forsaken, his own well being. For indeed Mr. Fuller was a selfish, and greedy fellow. His greed superseded any rational and caring soul. “Come on now Charley speak to me, what happened? What did you see? Did that damn varmint do this to you?” The attacked trapper could barely breathe lest speak, but he tried, “I saw....” he moaned and mumbled. I then interfered at once, concerned with the health of the man first. “My God step back Mr. Fuller, and let me tend to his wounds!” He was leath, and reluctant; but slowly gave ground to me. “Go ahead, Danishman!” I then examined and tended to his wounds; but realised quickly and from the start, that the wounds were severe, and life costly. I knew, that it was in all likelihood that this man, would die sooner, than much later. “Breathe in my friend you must try to relax and be strong!” I said as I tried to comfort him, although I knew that his every breath, could be his last. I could not mend his discomfort and wounds, but I could at least let his last minutes, seconds, be dignant; and that he could pass away, in dignity and die like a man. Mr. Fuller, kept on heckling me about his wounds to the point, that I saw no need in occulting to him the truth, “His wounds are severe, and they are difficult to tend to.” “What’s a done caused them Danishman?” I then rose to my feet, and with a stern gaze at him answered, “They are bitemarks Mr. Fuller, that were caused by a very powerful, and savage creature.” I then pointed to the area of the bitemarks, which were on his neck. “There on his neck, are the bitemarks that I said. And there, you can see the mastodonic formation of teeth, that are engraved in this man’s upper neck. I myself have only seen it once before, in my life!” The thought conjured up in me, that dreaded day, in which my fellow colleagues from the first expedition were killed, and mauled by that one bloody animal. I could remember vividly and clearly, the cries and screams of my compeers; for the sight of seeing the pain and affliction onto their visages, was haunting let alone, the sight of that demon himself. The next thing that I realised, was that I was hearing the voice of Mr. Fuller addressing me. “Danishman, you were saying?” I quickly snapped out of my trance, and turned to him and continued, “I saw these bitemarks before, while during my last foray here, and on the necks of my fellow friends, colleagues, professors!” Mr. Fuller then exclaimed, after he saw the vestiges of the teethmarks, “Those look like darn fangs more to me, then teeth Danishman!” After closely looking at them, I concurred dearly with Mr. Fuller’s observation. “Perhaps, one which you eloquently say my dear Mr. Fuller.” We headed back to the dying man, whilst I attempted to gracefully make his passing a more civil and respectable one, Mr. Fuller instead, was more concerned, with knowing any pertinent and real information, about the creature. “Charley, damn you, you can’t die until you tell me, what in the blazing hell attack you; and where did that darn varmint escape to? Come on now boy, feel that smell of the hunt now! Why we’s a got him now Charley! That darn varmint, can’t hide or much scadaddle on us boy! I reckon, that he’s got no rock, to hide under. We’ll a fish him out, like a wild opossum. Like we’s have done many times, in good old Texas! Chucks, there aint no cotton picking way, a varmint can get the best of us!” It seemed that in his coarse, and raffish language, Mr. Fuller was able to inspire the man to hold on, just yet. I had the intention to vehemently so object to his vulgar display or paucity of respect, even for a dying man of his but I realised, that it was better to see a man who was mired in megrim, regain his manhood, though be it but only temporary. I allowed Mr. Fuller to cheer up the man, whilst I looked on attentively. He then managed to chuntered, and muttered the daunting and haunting words, which would confirm our suspicions. With his eyebrows swirled up, and with his hands doddering and fritting, he managed to gain some strength enough to say to us, “I saw that darn creature the yeti, he was white all over and was fairly tall, and strong. But teeth were a long, and I am a telling you Austin that those of teeth were I reckon, three’s or four’s times bigger, than a darn Texas coyote. He came at me from a nowhere, and chucks, I didn’t have a chance to fend him off. Darn it be Austin, I guess I won’t be joining the hunt much longer! I’m sorry for a dying on you. Do tell my wife Mona and the kids, that I’s be seeing her soon in heaven; and that this old boy, won’t be a hunting no more!” He then hetted and coughed, and was on his last breath it would but appear. “The pains is a mighty hard to fight, it is a worser then when, I got bit by one of those darn good rattlers!” Sensing that his man the trapper, was quickly dying, Mr. Fuller insisted about knowing about the most important information and that, was to find out where the creature had exited to. “Now listen real close here Charley, where did that darn varmint a go to?” The man with a dying expression on his face, as the symptoms of the wounds, and the symptoms of hallucination, and hysteria were sinking in then, stared into the eyes of Mr. Fuller; and uttered in his moaning manner, as he pointed with his right finger northerly. “I reckon so, he went a that way I reckon!” He was still somehow living, but for how long? His pain was like acid being pour on him, or it was five times painful then a bullet from a Winchester, or Colt 45. He would say it in that, “Darn pain, it’s a worse than being shot, by a bullet from a Winchester; or Colt 45 I tell you!” He was dressed in fur from head to toe, much like Davy Crockett, or that like a Russian Cossack. His heavy beard, was at least some heat to his face and of little consolation to the pain, which was compounded by the blebs that turned to blisters, and rapid ascension of frost bite, numbness of the body also throughout his body and fatigue, and debility. Surprisevely ten minutes passed by, as he sang his soothing death song it appeared. He was singing an old Southern Rebel song called Dixie, which I could hear. Though his voice was crackling, and so crepitating, he somehow even at the stage of dying was capable to sing away. Sing away, his favourite song.

“I wish I was in the land of cotton, old times there are not forgotten, Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land. In Dixie land where I was born in, early on a frosty mornin’ Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land. (Chorus) Then I wish I was in Dixie, hooray! hooray! In Dixie land I’ll take my stand, to live and die in Dixie, Away, away, away down south in Dixie. Away, away, away down south in Dixie. Old Missus marry Will de Weaber, Will-yum was a gay deceaber, Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land. But when he put his arm around her, smiled as fierce as a forty pounder. Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land. (Chorus) Dars buckwheat cakes an’ingen batter, makes you fat or a little fatter, Look away, look away, look away, Dixie land. Den hoe it down and scratch your grabble to Dixie’s land I’m bound to travel, Look away, look away, look away Dixie land. (Chorus)

I would afterwards find a written copy of that song, which was kept in one the pockets of the dead man. Ten minutes would pass on, and the man still lived. It was then, the unimaginatory occurred. The dying man it appeared, was going to live it seemed. He was taken back to the dear cave, by one of Mr. Fuller’s other men. We on the other hand stayed around to continue with the search. Just as there would be no trances except that of the words of the trapper, there would be a breakthrough in our search, and trek. What we would stumble and cross upon, were there in the midst of the snow, footprints which were evident, and clear to see. There were evident footprints which unlike like the previous, lead somewhere. It was exactly, what we were praying for truly. “White eagle, over here!” The Cree uttered outloud. We all then raced to the scene. Where upon our arrival, the Cree pointed to the ground, and said, “There on the ground look, White ghost is near!” When I asked him how could he be sure, he looked at me while Mr. Fuller then, said to me, in a serious tone of nature. “Why my boy, he’s better than any hounddog that I have ever had. Why Toot, has the nose of a wolf and the ears of owl, and the eyes of a hawk! You can rest assure, that he knows what he’s talking about!” I realised, that he was most likely, telling the truth and after all, he was as good as a bloodhound. We then proceeded to follow the tracks for about a mile, before they suddenly stopped. The tracks themselves, had ceased to exist anymore. Mr. Fuller then asked the Indian, where did he think the creature had gone to. “Tell me Toot, where did white spirit go, where is the spirit of white spirit at?” The Cree looked around the area, which had a ravine near, and crevices as well. The rest was open land, encompassed by slippery and icy rocks. It was then that for the first time the Cree was stumped, and did not have a clear clue to where the creature was at. “I know now he has good sense, and good ears, he is like the wolf, who comes and go. He is like the hawk, who strikes and then flys away. He is like the owl, who from high tree sees little mouse. White spirit, must not be underestimating!” Mr. Fuller then vigorously asked him, “Are you sure Toot, that you don’t know where the creature is at?” He would just reply, “Yes, I do know not where the creature is at. His spirit dances around this land, spirits tell me, that he is strong and,” he paused before he said, “He is what the Salish in Canada call, the “Sasquatch.” I asked him what did he mean by that. “What do you mean by Sasquatch?” Mr. Fuller then addressed my question, “It’s like a big monkey!” I then looked at him, and then asked, “Do you mean an ape or a primate?” Mr. Fuller then replied, “Why if you choose to call it that then, ape it is!” We then headed back to where the incident with Mr. Fuller’s man happened at, and Mr. Fuller upon our return then asked Sizwe, who was left behind, if he had seen any sign of the illusive creature. “Did you see any sign of the creature Sizwe?” The African warrior, nodded his head, and simply said, “No!”

2:07 p.m.-We returned to camp to eat and drink; for despite our drive to find the beast, the urge for food and water, was even more greater. There was a thought of leaving at least a man behind, but I had to make Mr. Fuller acquiesce with the idea, that we couldn’t afford any more men to be killed, and attacked. Back at the hovel, the body of the wounded trapper, was gone. Once again the place had been ransacked, and this time all of our rashents and goods were token, all that was in the form of food and water. “My God, he is gone! Where did he go? And what did happen here?” Mr. Fuller then made me aware of the fact, that all the rashents were gone, except our sparingly artillery. “I am afraid I reckon, we’ve got a problem here, my Danishman. We’ve a got no more food or water!” I then asked him, “What are we going to eat, and drink now?” He then answered, “I reckon we got to go a hunting for some game, and we’ve better dig up through the ice, some water from the ravines nearby!” I queried about the trapper, “Where did your man go Mr. Fuller?” “That’s a good question there Danishman. I reckon I best go and investigate!” He then ordered his remaining men, to go outside, and investigate. When he did, they came in ten minutes later on and said, that they had located the body of the trapper, when the African was asked was he dead or alive, the African mumbled, “Put spear to his body, and with spear poke to see if man moved like cheetah; but he now sleeps like lion!” There was indeed fear, and terror in the eyes of the Zulu. It was as if, something had terrified him. I was somewhat confused, and so bemused of what exactly he was trying to convey; thus I asked Mr. Fuller to explain. “What is he trying to say I am afraid, that I don’t understand, what he said Mr. Fuller?” Mr. Fuller ignored my question, and quickly headed out of the hovel; and told Sizwe to show him where the body was at. I decided to follow, and so I did. When I arrived onto the scene it was then, that I could there about a couple of feet on the other side of the hovel see, the dead body of the trapper; or what remained of it. It was badly mauled to death, the trapper’s insides, had been opened, and partially consumed. The flesh despite the cold, had a stench that cold be smelled so, from a mile away. The body was missing a leg so, and what was more frightening, was that there upon the face of the man, was the haunting and daunting expression of fear, and terror in his dear eyes and his mouth. His eyes were clear and wide open, and his mouth as well, as if he was but terrified by what he had seen. He was found near the ravine nearby the hovel. Such a sad sight to see I almost wanted to vomit; for the mere sight of the decaying, and mangled body of the good trapper, disgust me. If it not be for the fact that I was a doctor as well I can admit, that my own entrails of my own stomach, would have come out as well. “What could, have done this?” Mr. Fuller inquired. I knew without a doubt, who was the real culprit and that was, it was that same creature who had killed my fellow colleagues, from the first expedition. I then mumbled, “The yeti!” Mr. Fuller then, rose to his feet, and then with a fury, and wrath, he said as he squeezed his right fist together, “The darn varmint, he’s a going to pay with his own blood for this, if that’s the last thing that I do. For my name wouldn’t be so, The Great Austin Fuller then!” Once again, he invoked his great name. I chose to put little attention to his selfish words, and instead put more credence to his words of threat. I too, was starting to see the creature as a bloody killer; and a murderer as well. I had come see, to seek and find the yeti, and ultimately, to bring him back alive. But now, with the deaths of the Sherpas, and that of the good trapper; and with the fact, that we were without food and water. My desire for the preservation of the creature, was now becoming a wanton, that would perhaps one day soon, burden the depth of my soul. He called out for the name of the Cree. He told him, to get the traps, and snares up and running again; the new ones. He told the Zulu to go, and get his Winchester rifle. He carried only his Colt 45 with him at his side, but this time, he was as he saids, “A fixing to go, and skin the hide out of the hare itself!” There was truly deep resentment, and anger in his eyes. There were steaming, like the fire of a furnace itself. “You can bet I’ll have the critter or one of them skin alive, that I say with utmost intent!” I could see in his eyes the malice and malevolence, as if they were vinegary, and bitter in not so being able to prevent the deaths of not only the trapper, but of the others well. He then got up, and along with his men, headed back to where the creature attacked the trapper. I asked him, if he was not going to bury the trapper. “Are you not going to bury this man?” His response was, “I’ll let you a handle that Danishman, I’ve a got a work to do!” I could see the determination in his vile eyes, which I also had and much like him, I was yearning for wanton, and for ultimately catching the creature. I was starting to loose my morality, and my humanity slowly, as I was but burying the trapper. After I buried him I deduced, that I would see the death of the creature if necessary. I was becoming vindictive and obsess in finding the creature, much like Mr. Fuller the herald hunter. I was not different then him I was in fact, becoming just like him. We both were raddled, and interwoven in the necessity and the desire to see justice; and above all, to find that bloody creature at once. I had come for scientific purposes and intentions, but I was so quickly becoming less scientific in my drive and instead much more vulgar, and raffish in my attempt to see the creature’s destruction.

I had come to these mountains in search of the creature, to find and take back a specimen alive. But now that all changed, and my purpose and desire, was sadly enough no different, than Mr. Fuller himself. I threw the shovel down, and then headed back to the hovel, and grabbed my gun; and headed with the others to find the creature. When I arrived to where the others were at, I found out that the perimeters of the hunt, were expanded, and sprewed even more. It seemed that Mr. Fuller wanted to have each man, spread out over a span of at least a mile or so apart. It was determined by the hunter, that as much ground that could be covered, was advantageous and good for us. But what pondered in my head, was the dire fact, that we were quickly running out of men; none the less he persisted. Our goods as far as food, and water were gone; but we still had our guns and our desire. But I wondered truly for how long? I had joined and teamed up with Mr. Fuller, in vigilance hoping much like him, that either one of us, could find that creature. “Do you think that we will find the creature Mr. Fuller?” I asked. Mr. Fuller’s wandering eyes, were attentive to every movement of anything moving. I was forced to ask him again and this time, I was able to get his attention at last. He then glanced at me, and chuntered, “Why do you tell me Danishman?” I then looked at him and said, “What do you mean by that Mr. Fuller?” With his sarcasm, he said, “Your the genius here Danishman, you claim to have a seen the darn critter. So tell me, you know where that darn varmint hides at? Your the scieneman here!” I quickly realised, just what he was referring to. I then replied, “Why Mr. Fuller, you do have wit my friend. And as far as your statement is concerned, your right! I am the scientist here and I must attest, that I have seen the creature, and I should know where the creature is at but this creature is, more adaptable and clever then I imagined!” Mr. Fuller then poignantly answered, “Why my good Danishman, it looks like you haven’t been on many hunts in your life. Why I have tracked the King of Jungle in Africa, and I have tracked the Tasmania Devil in Australia. I have also tracked the rare jaguar in South America. The great buffalo in America, even down to the last dying wolf in Europe, and I’ve been quite successful in my endeavours!” Despite my uneasiness and distrust in this man, I was starting to at least respect, and admire him at least for conquests; but he was still gullible in his many things. In particular those things, pertaining to science, and archaeology. He knew truly nothing of pathology, cytology, phylogeny, phylum, physiology, and even simple biology. Although there was a paucity and meagre in those things, he did know alot about hunting; and about traits and locations of where to find rare, and almost extinct animals. I was a man who had hunted back in Denmark, back in Sjælland and in Skagens Odde; but never analogous, or cognate to the Great Austin Fuller. “You would be surprise my dear Mr. Fuller, I myself, am a hunter in a way. Why as a dreng, I would go hunting, or as we say in my language, “Jage!” So, I know about what the hunt is about but I must admit, that in my years as a hunter pale, to yours of course!” It was then, that a yell could be heard coming Northwest from us. It appeared that one of the men had spotted something important, since it didn’t sound like a distress call. We then all quickly raced and scurried, to where the call was coming from. We were forced to tread through the deep and steep snow; and slippery ice somewhat. We at last were able to make it, although it be much slower in pace, than we would have wanted. I could see there infront of me, was the Cree Indian, who was standing telling us to come at once. It seemed, that he had either spotted the creature, or had some important to tell us, about the creature himself.

“What is it Toot?” The Cree again pointed to the ground surface, and upon descrying at it, we stumbled upon what appeared to be something that was apparently caught in one of the snares that, were laid down by the men. There appeared to be a vestige of a foot of a creature, that perhaps belonged to the yeti himself. “Hallelujah! It seems, that I reckon we’ve done found that critter!” Indeed we had at least proof not so much that the yeti existed, because I knew in coming here before, that he existed. The thing was on coming in this expedition, there were no guarantees, that the creature would be found, lest be captured. Although it was not a whole yeti, nor did we capture one yet still, the presence of this proof, was evidently to be for a golden and shifor clue to go from here. “It is foot of white spirit, his spirit was here; and the Great Spirits in the sky have told me that he is near, very near!” quoted the Cree. “How far from here do you reckon Toot?” asked the superior, and authoritative Mr. Fuller. He bent down, and touched the hirsute and fury white fur of the foot itself; and then touch the blood stenched in the snow, and then proceeded to sniff it like a wild dog. He proceeded to follow the bloody, and marred shabby footprints as we followed, it was then that he uttered, “He has wings like an eagle white spirit, as an eagle!” Since we were all trailing, we were not able, nor capable of seeing supposively or much contravenely what the Indian has spotted up, ahead of us. “What did you spot there Toot?” Mr. Fuller eagerly asked. It wasn’t until we reached to where he was at, that we realised that not only were we near a cliff but the fact that below us, was nothing but open landscape below; fuelled of what appeared to be hardened rocks, megaliths, all covered up with ice and snow, that would truly kill any human or creature upon fall. “You see white eagle, now you understand the ways of this white spirit; for he is strong and knows the ways of the land, from top to bottom!” I did ignorantly imposed the question to the Cree. “What exactly do you mean, Indian?” He proceeded to explain in a somewhat terse, and bardic manner of speaking. He used his hands and feet, to express his words. “He is the eagle of the sky, the wolf of the land; and he is the trout of the old river. His eyes are everywhere, he is great spirit of the sky, great spirit of the land; and great spirit of the river!” Still, somewhat confused and hashed, I had to ask whether or not, he was speaking in a literal sense, or poetic sense. “Tell me Mr. Fuller, is this Indian trying to tell us that he is a demon or a ghost, and that he is not real at all?” Mr. Fuller himself, was a bit stifled by the statement of the Indian, but he soon realised what he was trying to say. I guess since he had been around this man, he was the most risenlick one to understand his manners, and behaviour; and even his words. “Hold on there, my old boy! Don’t you see that he’s a telling us, that we’ve got to use a better tactic than the one we’ve been using upto now. Ya, why lamesakes, it’s like hearing Dixie on a soothing strings of a banjo, on a good and early Sunday morning!” If the words of the Cree did not obfuscate me then, hearing the confusing words of the Texan would. I asked him what he meant by his words. Mr. Fuller then chortled a bit so did the others, before he said outloud, “Why lamesakes, I think that you need to be around some southern hospitality and around us folks more, my fellow Danishman!” He then proceeded to explain to me his ironic words which were more of euphemism or substitution for I got it perhaps. “To make this candid and clear like ones of those crystal balls to you, I’m a going tell you, what exactly I mean by saying, it’s like hearing a Dixie on a soothing strings of a banjo, on a good Sunday morning. It means we’ve got to be more tricky and more cunning than the darn varmint itself. We’ve a gots to outflank the creature. Don’t you see that he is a playing, a game of poker with us; and he’s got a deck of pair of kings, and we’ve got but a pair of eights only!”

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

3 January-A full day has elapsed since we arrived and yet, there has been no sign, nor trance of Professor Hansen and the others. I fail to understand the reason why, I dare not think but yet say in a muttering manner, something wrong must have happened to the others. Could it be, that they are lost? Could it be, that came and suspected the worse of us, and are perhaps out there truly somewhere searching for us. Could it be what I dread, that they may be injured or worse yet, dead all of them? I cannot be gemütlich, nor comfortable with the ackward, and uncanny feeling of not knowing what exactly has befallen upon the others. I cannot even come to grips to say, that I am also solicitous, and worried about even good old Mr. Fuller himself; and his band of misfits. Instead of being shoddy in thought, I must whet and make my conviction, much more bracing although indeed, that in itself is not facile nor easy to do. Today Walters, stayed behind by himself; whilst I along with Sir Wellington and Tengri, headed out again around the area, to find the others. We did not stray far but yet, we covered quite substantial distance. “I do hope that they are not as I fear lost, or astray!” I commented. Sir Wellington, was much fixed with his binoculars, on the sights around us. He pierced at the landscape of the mountains, that begirded us. His reaction was much more unbearish, than bearish. “Egad my dear boy, must I tell you, that we must still retain our vivacity and hope. We cannot render to the thought of qualm, much easily. Though it is rather uncommon, and they should have arrived if not before us, than after us and that in itself, does trouble me. But we must retain our trust, and not be so easily bilious, in our haste!” How be it, the thought of something bad happening to the others, could not escape my mind, despite Sr. Wellington’s good words of worth. “Do you see anything, any sign of them Sir Wellington?” asked Walters. His response was simply, “No, I am afraid not!” He then handed over the binoculars to Professor Walters, who then after keeking for himself he as well, found no sign of the others. It was then when I pierced and thyrled through them, that I saw what I thought was the sight of a dead carcass which appeared to belong, to a heavy set creature. “Wait a dear minute!” I exclaimed. “What is it? What did you see my boy?” Sir Wellington asked me. I then told him that I wasn’t sure, so I passed the binoculars back to him where upon looking, he was able to see what I was referring to. “Yes, I see it now. I must have not look that much thoroughly before!” “Let me see!” uttered Walters. He was able to descry at the same thing, that I and Sir Wellington, were able to see. “Great Scot I see, what you mean!” We then had Tengri escort us to the area; for he knew how to arrive there quicker, than any other man. When we arrived at the location indeed there could be seen a large mammoth or behemoth creature, seen there laying on the ground surface, rotting away like a decaying, and carious carcass of what seemed to be no other, than a large yak. At first neither of us professors, were certain and absolutely clear about that but to Tengri, there was no doubt whatsoever. In his mind, he knew of what the dead animal was, it was a yak! And there was no qualm in his mind either, that he knew who had butchered to death this creature, no other than the yeti himself. Horrific was the ghastly sight, of the mangled body, that even the notorious brutality of even Jack the Ripper, paled in comparison to this very barbaric act. Strong was the effluvium, that the odour was enough to enter the core of our dear nostrils, even when closed. The entrails themselves, were excellently dissected.

Whatever could have done this, was obviously starving to death or hungry for that matter. From all observation and observance, one could not surmise it in any other manner. It appeared that the creature who attacked this gigantic creature, was looking for food. “Good God, I can’t believe the sight of this barbarity!” I professed. We were all forced to turned our heads around in contempt, and in disgust all except Sir Wellington who to him, this was truly better, than a wild adventurous novel itself. What was remarkable or uncouth, was that fact that even to Tengri, a man born in raised in this region he too, was so disgusted, and stunned by the sight of the dead carcass. “Incredible, indelible!” were the words of Sir Wellington. He was in awl and stupefied, by what he was seeing with his very own two eyes. It seemed rather impressive, and quite much astonishing to Sir Wellington. I guess in his eyes, even the grosteque, and ghastly sight of the old creature, was something that was normal within the normalcy of biology itself. But I must attest, not in all of my wildest years in studying biology, and anatomy in the University, did I ever come across such a ghastly, and macabre sight as this wretched creature. I wonder in my mind, did this poor fellow deserve to die, in this sickening manner; but then again, hunger is hunger. “By Jove, whatever did this must have been as strong as an ox, and as sturdy as muscleman himself!” Sir Wellington avowed. I only stared at the creature, and concurred, “Yes, by all means. Whatever in the blooding hell could have committed this act of barbarity, must have been a rather inextraordinary, and so unordinary creature; blessed with tremendous strength and versatility. For no mere man indeed, regardless of stature, could have ever equalled such a incredible display of shear strength, and barbarity. Not only is this savagery, it is hunnish; and the act of a Goth I say!” Professor Walters began to examine the creature when he noticed, that there upon whatever was left of the yak so, were huge bitemarks which were apparently, left behind by the attacker. Walters then said, “Just as I suspected no wolf or lynx, could inflict such an incredible act of strength; neither could any of those creatures, leave behind indented there, those size of teeth. I tell you, that in all my years of study in the wilderness, and in inhabitancy of the puma, mountain lion, and even the lone wolf back home in the States, I have never seen such configuration of teeth like these haunting ones!” He then paused, before he turned to address us after we ourselves glanced at the bitemarks, “I’m telling you gentleman, my fellow compeers that what we got here is a case of a calculated killer; who knows this area well, and knows the meaning of survival!” That would be something that along the way was being confirmed to us, in the way of the footprints; and unfortunately in the way of the yak as well. “You do have a point there Professor Walters I tell you, I admire a man who has brilliance and intelligence. I have to admit that I was not fond of you before, but since we have acquainted ourselves in a much better manner, I can honestly attest, that I was wrong of you my boy!” He then reached out his hands as in a sign of friendship. Walters reciprocated by saying, “I too, had passed judgement onto you my dear Sir Wellington. I must admit that in the beginning, I found you to be annoying, and rather too stuffy for my taste but like you, I have seen my errant ways!” He shook the hand of Sir Wellington, and they both said to each other, “Friends!” Despite the fact that all of us had somewhat swollen, and blained hands and feet, the touch of humanity which was the essence of our foray, was indeed touching itself. To lament or to be in threnode over our despair, was only exacerbating, truly our predicament. Indeed it was rather so puggered our situation, and to compound it with the wretched weather which was our Frankenstein; and our wretched devil. “Go away Frankenstein! Go away, and not haunt me so!” How the wretched ,and poor Victor Frankenstein must have felt, as he was being followed and trailed by, the wretched creature he had created. So wretched now, was the creature which was to us, the Modern Prometheus. But we had to be so bearish, and find a way to escape the complexities, and intricacies of our own wandering and ganging, demons inside of us. “Who do you truly believe could have committed, such a vile act of barbarity?” I asked. Sir Wellington then, uttered the unthinkable. “Why of course the yeti himself. Why he alone, is the only predator up here some thousands of feet, in altitude!” Walters, would concurred with that statement. “I must agree with that thought!” It was then, that unbeknown to us archaeologists, Tengri had stumbled upon what appeared to be footprints of the creature leading austral, but where was the question? Once he summoned us, we then all scurried to his location; and there happened to see, indeed footprints of the variation of the creature that we had seen before. There was no doubt now, that the creature called the yeti existed despite the fact, that we had not so actually seen a real, and living yeti at all. There were two nagging problems in the forefront. One was, that were in the blazing hell was the wretched creature? And the more important question, how many of these creatures were out there roaming meandering, about the landscape? I decided to save those questions for later, right now, the thought of following up on this clew, was vital and, extremely incumbent. “What is it Tengri, what do you see?” I asked the Sherpa. The footprints themselves, appeared to be leading to somekind of hovel perhaps? “Footprints, they go somewhere!” he exclaimed. “Where exactly?” I queried. He then pointed to what appeared to be, a cave of some kind. That was the only visible thing laying ahead, in that direction. The problem was so, it was at least a couple of miles away from our present position. “Are you sure that it is wise, to stray that far off from the encampment?” I asked. Sir Wellington was a man much too phlegmatic and orgulous, to let such a trivial, and doggerel thing in his mind, upset and up end his chance for fame, and tir. He was extremely knowledgeable in embarking on his organons, why they were raddled in him you can say. “We must, for the betterment and advancement of science my dear boy, go forth!” Walters agreed after all he too, had come to Nepal for glory and for the chance to attach his name, to the most illusive creature present; the yeti himself. Although I was rather leath, and more amenable to that idea, I acquiesced in the end after all I too, was an archaeologist, who had come to nith in the name of science, and archaeology. It appeared to me, that Sir Wellington was beginning to be so wrapped, and enmeshed, in a sort of osmosis. It was highly unlikely, that the tracks themselves could lead actually into a hovel, since the surface of the ground was still mired, and theeked in snow and ice. So we proceeded ahead, where we were then able to glaze thoroughly at what appeared to be indeed, a cave or cavern of some sort. Our feet ache, writhe, and blain, but this we were determined at what ever cost, to succeed, and to find the creature wherever it be, or whatever rock it hid under. For no shell, no rock, no cave, was to dissuade the minds of three determined archaeologists, from finding what would be equivalently without a doubt, the greatest discovery in the history of mankind. Indeed a creature of this nature perhaps was linked like the missing link, sometime during the Stone Age. Or at least protolithic to that time period, or descendants and offspring of the kneomagum, of the past or yore.

My God, how I could not resist to think of such gain and profit, such discovery? And what it would mean for science and for archaeology, and for humanity itself? When we reached near the propinquity of the long, and wide cave we then, noticed that there was an impediment before us; one which could not be overseen or disregarded, the cave was on the other of a cliff or precipice. “Good God, I believe that we shall not be bestowed with the chance of a lifetime!” Sir Wellington averred in such a melancholic fashion. “I do believe your right in that assumption Sir Wellington!” I responded. Walters then made the comment, “Do you think that there inside the cave, is the den or lair of the creature?” Sir Wellington could gaze ahead, there in the vaward, and only reflect in hindsight, about that particular question. Ad lib, he would be forced to thig the reality of the situation, that was beforehand. “I am afraid, that there is nothing we can do; but submit to Newton’s laws of physics!” We had started on this expedition acropetally, but the only reminder of that, was the stare at the bottom of the mountain itself. The howling, and whistling winter breeze could be heard echoing throughout the mountain itself, from the apex down below there in the valley where not even a thalweg, could be seen from this distance. How aloof and grig, was the sight of the closest remnant of human society.

3:05 p.m.-Still no sight of the others, and the more time passed by the more edging, and eager we were to find out about their whereabouts. I sat down and bit my nails, and tried to wonder and cudgel, about what had happened to them or what could be happening to them? It was so determined that we were to wait and thole, abiding to the hope that just maybe, the others would at last finally arrive. I struggled, and widdled in my mind and brain, could the same fate of the others be already sealed and doomed, much like that of the poor and earm yak? I decided to pose that question amongst the others, whilst we sat down by the campfire. “Pardon me my lord, but I must query about several things that are occupying my mind at this time!” Sir Wellington thence, adjusted his spectacles and then, proceeded to ask me, “What exactly is troubling you, my dear boy?” I then went ahead with my general questions. “Well, what I would like to impose above all is, what if the others have faced the same fate, as that wretched yak, that we found laying there mangled, and mauled to death? And what just if there are more, than one of those foul beasts roaming the area, watching our every move? And how can we be sure, where to find the animal or animals?” Sir Wellington, sighed for a moment before he proceeded to answer my inquiries. “Well where do I begin my dear boy. First above all I must say, that you do have such a brilliant and perspicacious mind, and I admire brilliance in a man! Returning to your questions, I say that you have a good point in asking such magnificent questions. If your are to query about my personal opinion and thought then, I will grant that privilege. The first question of course, it is so feasible and logical that the others have faced the same fate, as that poor creature. The second question, there is also a strong possibility, that the creature is more than one. And finally the third and last question, I strongly believe that we are closer than ever. Although, it has been only a couple of weeks, we are heading in the right direction and we must at any cost, so thring my boy there to where the boundaries and limits of man, knows no barriers or hindrances at all!” I dare not utter what went through my mind. Was he being a gander? Or was he envisioning this place as a mere Cockaigne of some manner? Was he as one saids, “Off of his gourd!” Was he being foolish and glaitkit, in aspiring to find the creature; though, it could forsake us all in the end?

Indeed I was not sceptical of my own penchant in finding the creature, but was it enough to forsake our own health? Sir Wellington was at times boastful, gascon; for he was one to truly grabble the attention, and the mind of one. But I could see that in his words, were a bit of more than fantasy and aspiration; there were words that resonated an even more deeper meaning, and connotation. What could that mean? It meant that sometimes in the bottom and depth of our own hearts exist this visionary and imaginatory state of fiction, one which can dilute and begrime the minds of the most prominent of those. From the minds of Napoleon, Anthony, Alexander, down to King George himself! How so priapic were their desire for power that they ultimately, lost the essence of their humanity. Unlike Sir Wellington, who dreamt of looking through the horizon so, Walters was less physiological, and more pragmatic in his comments. “I too have had those same questions lingering in the depths of my minds also. As far as I do believe, I think the possibility in all likelihood, that there are somewhere throughout this area, more than one creature; but how many that is the question? I must attest as well,” he then hawed a bit. “I must say, that the fate of the others has passed through my mind constantly and I too, can’t escape the ideal that the worse has happened to them. That is why I suggest, that tomorrow morning some of us whoever it be, will have to go further!” “What do you mean by go further Professor Walters?” I asked. Walters then proceeded to explain his words. “I mean that either one of us three must go and search for the others, along with someone else of course!” Sir Wellington then uttered, “I agree, though it is good to be much positive in thought, one must be practical at this point from now on!” I queried, “But who among us will stay?” Walters then mumbled, “I don’t quite know!” Sir Wellington then, suggested that he be the one the indicated one, in leading the quest to find the others. “I shall be honour, and so grateful to lead the expedition to find the others!” After a pensive thought I then, interjected by saying what I felt was the most logical to me. “I shall be the one to lead the expedition, and find the others!” Sir Wellington, interjected with his own words, “Are you sure, that you can handled this endeavour my dear boy?” I was not saying what I said out of a need for superiority or greed; or out of blatant haughtiness, but instead with a wee of thingy. “Trust me, my fellow colleagues. After a pause and a clear thought by the others, they consented and gave blessings, to my dear endeavour. “Then it is settled, I will go with Tengri tomorrow, and we shall head off and search for the others. Group A, must be found!” Walters posed the question, “What if Group A are all dead, and what if you find them so dead, and not alive?” I realised the true significance of that question. I turned to address his good question in the most solemn manner, “Let is hope that truly that, is not the case here. But if it be so, has it not entered your mind, that we would then possibly be next for I fear, that the creature would not be thwarted off by our presence merely, and not attack us. We have seen clearly and vividly, what the creature or beast, did with that poor yak!”

12:09 a.m.-We were congregated together, by the heat, and warmth of the campfire sleeping; while Tengri stood watch. The blusters, and the numbness of my body was beginning to return; and at this point, an eschar or a burn from the flames of the fire, would be indeed a soothing, and glibing comfort. I would even fancy a sword, or glaive braze my body; for the wretchedness of the cold was so gulling, and much unbearable at times especially at night, when the cold of Jack Frost permeated throughout, the skies of this area. I had spent the night thinking and hearking back, to my golden moments as a child, when I along with grandfather, would make snowmen behind the house. I could remember his words of endearment. “You must always remember my lad that your in life, one must always be ready to handle any obstacle, that stands before him!” But another poignant thing, would occur during the late night once again. I would be awakened from the eve of early morning, by the cause of a horrific nightmare. A nightmare truly one in which, I could see the ghastly, and macabre deaths of the others one by one, slaughtered and butchered to death by no other then, the wretched yeti himself. Once awakened, I could only see the pure darken skies of the region, along by that one wretched howling and gusting wind, which seemed like a haunting cry, or howl. How my body yearns and hankers, twenty or thirty bed covers to warm my aching body. The numbness, in my fingers seems to activate itself, especially throughout the night. Sometimes I dread in my mind, that I would awaken and not feel any sense of feeling in my fingers, and the nerves, would be comatosed; whilst the joints of my fingers would stiffen, and the haptic touch of senses, would be eroded. I have seen before in some cases before mainly in photographs and read in books, the wretched disfiguration and discolouring of a man’s finger by not allowing the blood to circulate; and then afterwards, leaving a residue hue of blackness in the end. I have seen, and read of the redness of the cheeks, and spots of some sort that begin to encompass the surface of one’s own face. A portion of my body felt as if symphysis was protruding my body, and that contractions or systoles of the heartbeat of my heart, would subside. I also remember coming across imaginatory portraits and even to a degree a small model of the creature which, was more of a diorama. I also could not escape these diphyodent long pairs of incisors, that were left upon the hide of the yak.

4 January-There were symptoms of bacteria of some nature, that were beginning to enter my body I felt but yet, I could not be completely accurate in my assumption hitherto, it was more of a promising theory, or generalisation the best. I was so finding myself somewhat in a state of but hypnagogia as I awaken daily and my throat or gullet, was beginning to become somewhat quite hoarse and felt, that I was coming down with some sort of infection in my throat perhaps? Truly though I was not fond of medicine, nor a complete paladin of every bacteria or disease, I knew that of the knowledge and wisdom that I knew as a doctor and medic, that the key to my strength and stealth, was to be wieldy and wight. Truly I felt as if I had been put in a strappaddo or an old guillotine, and was stramashing down my head where upon, it would chop it off by the stem. I had gathered my stuff, and got ready for the journey. The others were not to be far off or aloof in distance but the hardened area itself, was not completely flat nor levelled and even a distance of five miles or more, could be so easily be lost through the many long hills, trees, or even the long mountain ridges which seemed to encompassed the area totally. It was indeed easy to be lost here, and to forget one’s own tracks. The snow and ice, and above all the strong wind, could easily deceive a man. I was to take Tengri with me on this journey, and only I and him, were to venture and search for the whereabouts of the others. “Well good luck my dear boy, we shall be waiting!” Sir Wellington greeting with his words of hope, and friendship. I took his words with utmost respect and candour, and they resonated to me, like a cadence of great splendour. “I shall my dear Sir Wellington do not worry, I shall make in my attempt all that I can, to find or locate the others; that you can bet!” I looked at the Sherpa, and saw a worn down man but yet, he still appeared to be somewhat feisty, and eager for the adventure.

“Are you ready?” I asked him. He just pacifly nodded his head yes. I said my goodbyes to Walters, and then proceeded to embark on the journey to find the others. Just as I was leaving, I was then reminded my Sir Wellington, that I had forgotten one important thing, and that was the compass. “Wait my dear boy, you forgot the one thing, that a trekker must never forget; and that is, his compass!” I with a mild smile then replied, “I must so agree with that Sir Wellington!” He then, in such a bleak and hazy manner said, “Good luck my boy, and may God be with you. Until next time!” I then pierced into the depth of his eyes, and said in a solemnly, and almost nostalgic fashion, words of uncertainty. “Good bye Sir Wellington, I shall hope that, that be so. And that I shall find the others and return alive!” Standing infront of Sir Wellington eye to eye toe to toe, I felt or had the uncanny feeling that perhaps, I was not to see dear Sir Wellington again. I could sense although it be subtle that he too, felt the same sullen feeling that I felt also. “I can’t wait to see the faces of the press back in London, cheer up old boy, I’ll be a sprightly chap again!” I said in a cheerful way. I then said a final goodbye to Walters, and then was off. As I left, I could now feel this uncertainty in me. The fear and nerves, that I had brewing in the pits of my old stomach, superseded any feeling of writhe or ache, that was consuming me from inside out. I had only at least the comfort of a companion in the way of Tengri, and a mighty good one, if I should say so. I had come to be fond of Tengri and the Sherpas. His people were, the Great Tharu’s of this region. I had come to see indeed, a good thew in these nomadic people. From what I knew of the Sherpas, they were devoted Buddhists and descendants, of the Great Mongols themselves. Their stature was small to medium size, and their skin was a darken olive colour; and their eyes squinted from one edge of the eyebrow to the other. Their society was not advanced but instead backward, and still mired in old customs, and ways of living. Much indeed modernisation had not fully penetrated, these people, as much as other much modern societies of the world. The task and endeavour was of course, one which was arduous and extremely difficult not to mention, hazardous. I had hearken back to the obscure, and haunting thought of what if the others, were dead? There were abundant and sundry amount of trees, which encompassed the region; and ghats and knells to cliffs as well, that accompanied them. The never-ending pile, and heap of snow and ice, which enmeshed the glacial landscape of the mountains. Indeed, the area was Goth and barbaric, but still there was no other choice bestowed but to go forth. I could not refrain from my disdain and gall of the wretched weather, and especially the landscape itself but now, was not the time for second guessing, nor what ifs as well.

12:57 p.m.-We stopped for a momentarily break to rest, but also because, it seemed that Tengri had sprained one of his ankles, and what not able to walk effectively. I quickly attempted to tend to his severe contusion or sprain. It had been nearly truly three hours, since we left from the dear rendez-vous point. Although the others were supposed to be, some six to eight miles away from us still the thought was that due to the intensity of the storm itself, it was highly feasible and thus likely, that they were forced to find shelter somewhere in a cave much further, than the distance of the perimeters, that had agreed to. As I sat there, I could see what appeared to be the midst of the air which seemed to be engulfed by a certain haze or fog be it temporary or not, it was but indeed impressive.

My feet were badly numbed and I feared, that frostbite was becoming a much dreaded possibility; for the harden surface and jagged rocks, were unbearable and tremendously difficult to tread upon. I could not bare the steps that I treaded, nor could my feet endure much longer; for to dree and suffer, was the cause and effect of my predicament. I dare not mention, that it was also Tengri’s as well. I did not need to ask him; for it was of course evident in his face and in his expressions also. It did not take a tome, for anyone in their right mind to realise, just how drastic the weather, and the conditions were up here some thousands of miles up. One could find, a lost of breath ganging up here regardless of what ever physical condition, he would have been in so, previously. After an half hour we continued, but it was clearly evident to me, that Tengri could no more. After half a mile Tengri complained about his ankle, and made it known to me, that he could not go on any longer. And that it was better, to leave him behind and go on without him. It was apparent that the clumps of ice, and the cluster of hardened snow, were even so burdensome to us both but more, to the ailing ankle of Tengri. We had spotted a hot spring of some sort from our view. It was about a mile away from us, and was not on our present course but it came thus apparently clear that for Tengri, he could not go on! But, I had inspired and influenced him enough, to garnish the needed strength, to reach the hot spring. I had told him, that I would go and see myself, which way could we make it there. When I started to walk forward, I noticed that it was near a cliff. The problem was, that to reach it, one had to gingerly find a way, to avoid falling from the cliff. Though I felt, that the much hot springs were beneficent and much needed by the both of us, the risk of falling from the cliff so, was too great. I knew that I had to return and tell Tengri the news, but a tragic accident would occur next, one which I would not be able to avoid or prevent. As I slowly headed back to where I have left Tengri at upon seeing me, he would rise to his feet and all of a sudden, lose his good footing, and slip down the icy patch of ice which was infront of him. He would quickly then lose his equilibrium or balance, and tragically fall off the cliff thousands of feet onto the daunting pits below. I could only yell out his name in horror, as I witnessed his shocking death. I could feel a lump of ore in my throat and dagger in my heart, as I saw him perish into the infinity, for good. Such a terrible shortcoming, one which merited to be epically and heroically for he indeed, was an honourable and noble man. I took away that thought, that I had to at least tell his family members of how dignant was he, anent to our expedition. The only visible object was a trinket or bauble of some sort, which was left behind by him. It was a Buddhist gee gaw, one which had the sign, and figure of Budda himself enshrouded on the trinket itself. I was forced to blip the image of the Sherpa, from my mind though, I felt the need to shed a tear, for this poor soul. To fare in a situation, and dreadful predicament like the one I had soon found myself, was indelible. It had daunted on me so, to go back to the rendez-vous point and the others and forget this whole bilge, and save my own life in the end. I realised that I had made an oath and pledge of some sort, that I would at least, try to find or locate the others from Group A. I was in a fey, thinking as I made the conscious decision, to continue with the search. The lingering though was not only that I, was now alone on this one endeavour, but that I could not afford to commit any mistakes along the way for I had to be, so strong and feirie in my mind, and in my body as well. I had left the area and headed on with the search, but not before I said a small prayer in the behalf, of my fallen comrade. God bless his old soul, and give strength to his family. I had put the trinket into my pocket, and then stared ahead of what was ahead. Snow was starting to come down at first slowly but then, it started to build up quickly. It was daunting on me, that it was perhaps in all likelihood, a precursor to another wretched, and fowl snow storm. I then began to think that if it was to be anything like the previous one then, I knew that I had to seek shelter soon. It was too late to head back to the rendez-vous point, and back to where my dear colleagues Sir Wellington, and Walters were at. Treading and ploughing, through the snow and ice, could deceive a man’s own scruples. Unbeknown to me, I had lost my compass and had badly deviated from the course, and had made the trek somewhat longer, than what it was then originally planned. I had decided to walk and journey northerly. As I was walking straight, I then stumbled onto what appeared to be some objects on the ground there ahead of me, some fifty yards ahead of me. I then headed for the direction in which the strange and bizarre objects on the ground were at.

All that I knew was, that there ahead of me, were something there laying in the midst of the snow that covered the land. When I finally arrived to where the objects were at, I then would come to realisation that the objects covered in the snow were bodies, and not some tree stumps, or mounted rocks of some kind. I would be horrified to see there as the wind brazed my face, the much poor and wretched remains of what appeared to be, dead human beings. They had apparently been attacked, and mauled to death, by a creature or animal of some manner. It was ghastly, and macabre to see, their agonising expressions on their faces. What was more haunting and terrifying, were to stared at their eyes which were both wide open; as was as their mouths. They were but, inches apart from each other. After a careful look and observation of the dead and mutilated bodies, I realised that I had seen them before and it quickly daunted on me so, that these two men, were men that belonged to Mr. Austin Fuller himself. It was without a doubt, two of the men who had truly but accompanied the pompous Texan, on this expedition. One of the men, was a local paid Sherpa; and the other was, one of his trappers from the States. It appeared, that they had indeed, been visciously and ferociously, attacked by some kind of creature or animal. But the question was, by what, or who? The thought then entered, and penetrated my mind, that the only culprit and the murderer behind the killings, was no other than the wretched yeti himself. I knew, that if it was not by one then, at least it had to have been two or more creatures, who attacked the mile. It appeared, that they were so attacked for their supplies and for the mere fact, that the creature was obviously hungry as well. Because it did started to feed on the men, leaving only remnants of the men behind. I did what any God loving man would do so, I gave them a good burial. I was soon on my way, extremely fatigued and tired at that point. After another mile, I came across a cave, and headed immediately toward it. I had read and heard, about those true supposed ridged terminal moraines which occurred once the snow melted and I had so long and yearned tremendously, for the day to see that. I thought in my mind at that exact instance, that I had truly found the others. The adrenaline and the blood in my body, was circulating to the dear forefront. Not only was I suffering from numbness of my fingers, and extreme blisters also but now, I have an epistaxis or nosebleed now coming from my nostrils. As I entered into the cave, I could see no sign of any person around inside the cave or hovel. It appeared to me, that this was perhaps at one time, a cave in which the others were inside of. My theory or assumption, would be soon reinforced with the finding of scant and ramshackled supplies. The immediate question in my mind was where did they go, and where were they at now? And the most telling question was what was I, to do next?

I was faced with one out of two choices, one head back tomorrow to the rendez-vous point, before the snow became a terrible snowstorm. Or secondly, keep on searching for the others knowing, that they could be long dead by now? I was losing my strength to go on, and slowly my determination. I knew at least for the remanding of the day, I would rest here in the cave. I was extremely fortunate and lucky, that there were some wood, and broken branches laying about enough to use them, for the warmth of a nice and needed fire. I was able to stop the bleeding of my nose, and at least temporarily, some relief to my rigid, cold, and stiff toes and fingers. I tried at all cost to prepare myself, for the cold and storm, that was to lay ahead, this night. The thought of nithing forward in continuing the search was somewhat a thought, but that would soon become more of an idle one. My concern was that of surviving the night and pray, that I would not meet the same fate as the yak or that of the others. The constant thought, that the others had perished and been killed by the creature, lingered in the depth of my mind. It was so bolsted by the fact, that the place was ransacked by somebody. So many thoughts ran through my head but the nagging one was, what would become of me, if I met the same fate of the yak and that of the others perhaps.

10:15 p.m.-The snow has billowed, and the dreaded snowstorm that I feared, was upon me now. I was left with a whey-face, and with the rest of my tormented body, which seemed to ache and writhe by each, and ever passing day. How I could feel it devour and gormandise me truly, like a wretched plague of some sort. I could not help but to carry bile, and dross for the foul weather. Truly no man in his right mind, could be schwarmerei or upwinded, by such a seething and such churning predicament, that was more than a mere scud. How I dreamed for a fritter or shard of a newly fresh cooked kipper, but there were to be, no smidgens for me. For the brackish taste of my food was becoming such a foul, and wretched one. No longer was my food fresh nor recent, but it was instead mostly frozen, and hard as a bloody whetstone. Truly, it would be snide of me to hide or sleek my true feelings and thoughts adrem, to the situation I was in. I was truly swathe in the wretchedness, that was the weather outside. The wind became a williwaw, and it whewed and whistle, like a roaring lion from the African plains. I was wary of the snowstorm, and of my present location; but what I was not prevalent to, what was the outcome of the others? I argufied in my mind that predicament and in particularly so, the two options, that were running through my mind. Now was not the time to be shrewish, nor skittish of believing in the worse. For now was not the time for a shilly-shally. I had to cudgel and think swith, about what I was to do next. As I glint, I could not escape nor flee for the pain, that my body was feeling from head to toe. The temperature was by now at least somewhere below zero, and it didn’t help, that I was in high altitude neither. Whilomly, I would find myself dizzy somewhat. I realised, that I underestimated the wretchedness of the snow and the mountains. And I was truly ill prepared, for this endeavour. But now was not the time to second guess, nor question my rationality or wale. Now, was more of a time, to be strong and determined in my strength and above all, in my will and persistence. The thought of a nice silver plated hauberk would be nice about now, much akin to Sir Lancelot. The thought of being at an amort or point of death, did dwell in my mind as I did treaded and trekked, through the arduous landscape and mountainous region of the area. But I do suppose, that there is a drive in one perhaps shear will and desire, that makes a man persist and go forth.

I shall try to think positive this night, and not let the bloody and wretched cold make a coward out of me. I have had to bear some wretchedness to keep warm, and quaint. For example, I have had to do the unthinkable to many such as, by using a piece of burned wood, and placing it on my face for a short period of time, in order to not have the redness of my cheeks, or other areas consume, and devour my blood cells. I have also had to take off my shoes, and put my cold and nearly frost-bitten toes and fingers, into the very fire in which sheltered me from the cursed, and wretched cold itself. I have also been forced, to poke my ears at times, with a safety pin; in order to circulate my blood, and keep my ears from freezing to death. If what I knew as a doctor, it was extremely important for the areas that were cartilage, to be protected at once in this case, my ears. I was somewhat able to know how much I would prick or tweak them, never like the burned wood, go excessively overboard. I had to breathe in and out, the thought of faint and swooning somewhere out there in the middle of nowhere it appeared, was but a much haunting reminder.

1:08 a.m.-I was awakened by a strange noise, coming outside of the cave itself. I quickly thence jumped to my feet and grabbed my rifle where I then waited patiently, and stoically it seemed for the intruder or intruders, to make themselves known to me. From my distance, I was able to hear pretty much, an accurate account of things. I could hear, a sort of deep moaning and grumbling, accompanied by a grunting, and deep breathing sound. I was truly squeamish and wary, but my fingers doddered, and I was momentarily in a state of aphasia or palsy. I was not certain of what to do. My mind had wallowed, and plunged in a state of mild frenzy it seemed. With the grunting and moaning I knew that it was not human, but instead animalistic, and pure cabalistic. For the thought of the yeti came into my mind, like a blazing thunderbolt. I twiddled for a moment with the rifle in my hand not sure, if the creature knew of my presence. Did it truly know and sense me, through it’s olfactory senses? Had the creature sensed, and smelled so, my presence and was coming, to butcher and maim me like the others? Or was the creature simply seeking shelter from the snowstorm outside, much like I was? Whatever be the case certainly, I couldn’t just permit the animal to enter willingly and freely. It would mean instant death, for me in the end of course. I waited some more, listening attentively to the creatures, every move and step. It was then, that I could hear the creature entering into the cave. I was but twenty feet away from the entrance; hidden by a wall of the cave which was slanted, and bent. It was then, that the creature began to moan and groan, even more loudly and obstreperous. It was indeed not that of the sound of a leopard or yak as I had at first thought. It sounded much akin, to the primate class of good creatures, much like an ape or monkey. With my rifle nestled to my body, and with the dear pall outside I was braced for the worse to occur, even if it meant my death in the end. I waited and waited for the creature to get closer, or at least to where I could visibly see the old grinch. With my fingers fritting, and with the sweat of my glands perspiring, I held on firmly to the rifle. I had come across live game back home in the form of fox’s and deers, but nothing of the degree of a ferocious primate or creature of this magnitude. One in which was much more adaptable, and more intelligent than any other regular creature. The yeti was clever and cunning, and he knew his habitance well, and knew the fears of those who were his prey or foe. Either way, the rather persisting thought of not underestimating him, was by all means null and void in my mind. Now was the time to use my intellect and my human instincts. I knew that mine had to be better, than those of my opponent.

Suddenly I would make a mistake, one which would inform the creature of my presence inside. Unbeknown to me was the fact, that I was stepping upon bristle branches of a tree, which I had used for my fire. I would move my right foot, in order to ameliorate my position and view. I breathe slowly and gingerly as to not rattle the creature, but my breathing, would radically thus changed when I discovered, that I had by fritting on the branches that I had broken one of them; and causing the sound of the broken branch to be heard, and audible to the creature. I embraced myself for the worse to happen, thinking that the creature would sense my presence and but then immediately, attack me. The thought of being maimed, and mangled like the yak that I had seen, or the men as well, was something that I was not fond or keen of seeing myself, meet the same fate as them. Although I had a lantern with me by my side, but out of the view of the creature, I could not fully see much ahead with complete clarity. The cave, was enmeshed in the most parts of it, in darkness itself! It was then that the creature sensing someone, or something was inside the cave itself, slowly began to get closer into the cave. It was then, that I rushed out infront of the creature, and shot three rounds of bullets at the creature causing the creature to immediately rush out of the hovel, and depart into the midst of the night so. Thankfully it left, but not before making a loud and vociferous roar which resonated and echoed, not only throughout the hovel itself, but throughout the mountains themselves. It would frightened me a bit, and never before have I as an archaeologist, doctor, or professor, heard such a powerful and trenchant roar, like that of this beast. It’s roar, was three times that of the king of the jungle himself. I knew that I most likely had hit, and injured the creature, but what was not known to me was the fact, had I killed the creature in the end. I gingerly and slowly, began to head toward the entrance of the cave thence, crossing ramshackled remnants of what was at one time left here, by the others. When I arrived at the entrance, or orifice that lead outside with my lantern, I was not able to see nor descry at any sign of the creature around. It apparently had managed to escape and flee from the hovel, but the one question in my mind, was it alive? There was then, a second question. What was it, that I truly had shot? Was it truly a yeti? Whatever it was, it had to be abominable in nature. I scouted the area outside the entrance only due to the snowstorm, I was not able to track the wretched creature for if not, my adrelinin and my penchant, would astir a hunter’s desire to hunt.

Thinking that I was left with the prospect of being empty handed, and not left with a single bloody clew at all, it was then with the use of my lantern, that I would miraculously stumble upon what indeed seemed to be footprints but cover in blood, and fragments and pieces of hair that belonged to the creature itself. In particular, his feet! Apparently, it’s foot was trapped in a snare as well. I was extremely fortunate and lucky, that the lantern itself, was able to shine some light however strong it be, onto the footprints, and ground itself. I had a small miscrocope with me back in the hovel, but I had something that was more useful in this case, a magnifying glass. I quickly returned to the hovel to retrieve it so, and once I had return to the spot of the bleeding footprints I then kneeled to one knee, and realised after seeing the hair, through the magnifying glass that it was white and it appeared to be have belonged, to a primate of some manner. Still, I could not be certain, nor sure of my assumption, so I was forced to take it back with me to the hovel, and examine it. Once back at the hovel, and under the scope of a microscope I then was able, to reaffirm and confirm my suspicions and theories. Indeed it was pieces of hair of a dear primate which was hirsute and hairy, but the fibber of the hair, was delicate and nesh. There was also, a piece of small flesh found nearby.“Indeed, the wretched creature exists!” I said to myself.

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

4 January-It has been three days, since we left the hovel in which had been our shelter until now; for the urge to hunt for food, was prevelent and dire. I at first so scoffed at Mr. Fuller’s suggestion to leave the confines of the hovel, but then realised, that since the creature had truly ransacked and stolen our goods in particular our loving food then, we had no other choice but to find food, in whatever manner. Thankfully, Mr. Fuller and his men were excellent hunters, and knew how to find prey. But the question was, where would one find prey uphere so aloof? I knew of the yak, but beyond that I knew not much of other living creatures. Perhaps a ram, a yak of some sort, but where? What would Mr. Fuller and his men’s service mean to me, if there weren’t that much prey to hunt in the first place. I was thankful, that I had at least Sherab with me. Not only was the urge to find food and water important, but also unfortunately the need in our minds, to find the wretched creature as well. It had been many miles now, at least but some twenty to thirty miles, since we left the comfort of our last shelter. I began to wonder and truly regret in a rueful manner, my coming and arrival to Nepal, and these wretched and tormenting mountains. Was this I asked myself, just a manner in ascertaining revenge for the others, good Niedenbürger, and Björklund? Was my drive to revenge their deaths? Or was my drive for dear success in being the one to catch the illusive, and notorious creature? Was it still achievable, and not maddening? “Mit Gud! What have I done in coming out here, but to assure my painful and agonising death in the end! I quickly snapped out of my daze, and began to concentrate on the matter at hand and that was to find food and water first, and then the creature next. By leaving the hovel back there we were now distant, and afar from being reached perhaps by the others who I imagine by now, have reached the rendez-vous in which I myself, had instructed to meet at. I can only pray and hope, that they did not think of us dead but if then I pray even more, that they shall be able to leave this barren and cursed land alive, with or without the good creature. If the others knew of my poor ethics and forsaken principles, they would perhaps truly denounce my integrity, and position as an archaeologist, doctor, and above all, professor. But, I could not reveal to them completely, my secret. And even now, I cannot reveal it to Mr. Fuller as well. For as the days past, he becomes much more suspicious and knowledgeable, about my thoughts and feelings. I could sense at times, that he is getting closer to discovering, my secret. Little does he know like the others, that they will not be coming back and that this trip, was but a suicide trip for all of them. The only one to return shall be the Great, Peter Hansen himself.

2:05 p.m.-We have found new shelter near another hovel, this time this one, is near a cliff; and that itself is extremely dangerous. Mr. Fuller and his men were able to so valiantly, catch a full grown yak and kill him through bullets, and even through the dear spears of the African and the arrows of the Cree. The hunt for the yeti, was put off for the day, until food and water, were ascertained. The Yak furnished the food and the ravine nearby, furnished the water. While Fuller was on his hunt I along with Sherab, remained back at the new hovel. Sherab was there guarding the entrance to the hovel, and I in the meantime spend the day, searching arduously for anymore developments, of the specimen of the creature. I had managed to discover more details about the creature, from the mangled foot itself. I was able to find out, that the creature predated infact unbelievably, back to the Stone Age at least. “Mit Gud!” I told myself. I also discovered, that the creature belonged to a primate specie of some class of apes. I have deduced and acquiesced with the thinking of other modern day archaeologists of the time period, that the creature perhaps belongs to a relict community of Gigantopithecus; a prehistoric anthropoid known only, from a few fossilised bones and teeth. The foot itself was mammoth in size, it was at least from the crude measurements that I could take, some fourteen to fifteen inches long in length, and perhaps six inches in width. From what I could surmise, the foot had five toes much like a human, infact it resembled that of the foot of a man, but it was much wider in width. I had studied it before yet still in it’s infancy, the dear new discoveries pertaining to the creature. I had heard theories such that the creature, once existed even far off in China and India, some half a million years ago, back when man was just in his own state of evolution. I had hearken back to my good fellow scientist Charles Darwin again. His theory is all so accurate, and mindboggling. Such an injustice to commit, such a scandalous smear of reputation. Darwin would be jumping in his grave, if he had come to know about the true existence of the yeti. If I was to bring back or retrieve a living yeti, or even that of a dead one, it would bring me the fame that I dreamed and even, put me ahead of Darwin himself! 7:08 p.m.-The storm is still active, and it has render us from leaving the hovel itself. I can see the anger and fret in the eyes of Mr. Fuller. He grows weary and tired of my secretive and furtive discretion. He tolerates me, much for the same reason in which I tolerate him, the urge to find the illusive yeti. He seemed to be, me more alert and interested, in my discoveries and in my research as well. “So tell me something my good Danishman, with all that studying that you did today; and with that bright mind of yours, what have you found out, about the darn critter?” I stared at him, not showing a trace of ounce of deceit in my eyes. “Things of science my friend!” Mr. Fuller then insisted, “What sort of things of science, are you a yapping about, Danishman?” I then cordially replied, “Why they, would bore you to death!” Mr. Fuller’s intrigue and resolve, was even more persistent. “It almost seems to me, that you’ve got something to hide there dear Danishman. You know something my dear boy?” He then sharpen and whetted his long Bowie knife; and then uttered, “If I didn’t think wiser, you’d be six feet under right now!” For the first time, I felt his threats were more than mere words. It was the first time, that I noticed that, the Texan was becoming agitated, and churled by my antics. I could feel the heat of his knife, as it blazed upon my cheeks. I then, proceeded to explain somewhat my findings. I knew that, whatever I could relay to him in the way of my findings that were pertinent, would never be understood nor comprehended much by the Texan. “Well, if you need to know what I found today was, that the creature indeed belongs to a primate group of apes and most likely so, has existed here on earth; and in particular this area, for many million of years ago. He is by all means, an evolutionary product of evolution itself!” Mr. Fuller then lowered the knife, and said, “Well, I reckon all that gibberish talk, much doesn’t amuse me much. You know what does?” he then paused. I then stared into the eyes of the hunter, with my own sense of austerity. I then in a haughty manner uttered, “What?” He then became even more haughty, and austere than me as he glanced at me. He then proceeded to give me a sermon of sort nature.

“Just as long as you can help me find that darn critter. I don’t have a liking for all that scientific rubbish, the creature the yeti, is all that I care about. Why that’s the reason I a come here, to skin that creature alive and to take revenge, for the killings of my men as well. You see my good Danishman, with that studying and knowledge that you have, it don’t mean a lick if you can’t find the critter!” He then started to laugh and so did his men as well. He then padded me on my back and then said, “I was a just a joking my fellow Danishman. Why you don’t want to see me angry boy, why that wouldn’t be a pretty sight at all to see my boy!” Indeed he was becoming much more crafty, and unreliable in his mien. I knew that I had to play my cards right, using one of Mr. Fuller’s metaphors or euphemisms and not allow the American, to fiddle with my mind at all. I knew that Mr. Fuller, knew of my own feistiness and determination to succeed, But what he didn’t know fully well anent to my secret was still fully intact, and fairly concealed to him. But if there was one thing in common betwixt the both of us that was, the urge to find the creature that we were in agreement. I was fairly flinty and stern in my austerity, but his was even more greater it seemed. Although I was still in command, and my jossive was still palmary in the sense of the expedition, I was pondering in my mind itself, for how long? I could only count on the fact, that I had Sherab with me. But, I wonder what would happen if he were to be killed, and I was to be on my own at the mercy and ruth of this maniacal man. For it was clear to me, that I was no longer speaking about a civilise man anymore but that of a stalker who’s eyes were filled with wrath and his head, with madness. The demons of my past and my present were jabbing away at my soul, and my conscious, was eating away at my flesh inside. I cannot think about that dreaded day in which the others died, whilst I lived and return to civilisation. I had to eradicate and erase that memory in my mind somehow, truly at whatever cost. Indeed guilty feelings and thoughts were driving me mad at times, but my dear composture and greed to find the creature and return back with the creature, was even a more tempting, and seductive temptation. For it appealed to my mind and my greed, but my soul did seem, to be haunted by that dreadful day of before. I can never admit what really happened back there at the spot in which Niedenbürger and Björklund my former colleagues died, to the others. They must never know that I left them to die, and was an accomplice to their murders in the end. My act is of the worsest that any criminal or madmen could ever do, but my greed and obsession for the creature is like a drug itself!

12:30 p.m.-I found myself tousling and turning on the ground. I would be awakened by the cries of Niedenbürger and Björklund. The chills ran down my spine but thankfully, I was becoming more and more inconsiderate in my guilt, and my remorse was quickly fading, like a falling star from the sky. I was more concerned, with the thought of finding out more pertinent information on the creature, than any of Mr. Fuller’s antics or subtle threats, or even that of the faith of my former colleagues, and the others as well. So maddening must my scheme and will to find the wretch be, that I shall be willing to forsake the lives of all of the rest of the people of this good expedition. I must rest now for tomorrow, will be another hectic and difficult day. If the weather is not good, and the storm has not subsided then, I will be forced to hear and listen to dear Mr. Fuller’s coarse and vulgar stories of the Old West, which he is so extremely fond of. The blisters on my feet are so growing, and the numbness as well is growing. But, I am fortunate that I did bring with me, some morphine to help the numbness and swelling to be rendered painless; and some other type of medicine, that helps reduce the swelling and the causes of frostbite.

5 January-The snow storm miraculously subsided, and passed. Luckily for me it meant, that we could search for the creature. When I was awakened, I would be told of the horrific news much to my chagrin of the death of the last remaining man that I had accompanying me, and the only linkage that I had with finding the creature. I would so discover, that my fellow Sherpa indeed Sherab had been killed and badly mauled and maimed. His body apparently was discovered, nearby a mountain ridge, half a mile away. It was obvious that he had been killed, but what was he doing a half a mile away, that was the question? As I examined the dead body of Sherab, I encountered that he had been killed indeed by a large creature or animal, and only looking at the bitemarks of the creature, one would deduced without a shadow of a doubt, that the killer was the yeti himself. Still the questioned that lingered in my mind, what was he doing a half a mile away from the hovel itself? I knew that he was on guard duty. But what would cause him to flee away from the hovel? And not into the hovel, where we would have been able, to assist him. It wouldn’t take long so, before Mr. Fuller would point out the reason to me, “There you go!” He threw the bag that he was carrying with him, which contained a piece of meat of the yak that was killed yesterday, which was not much. Apparently the creature who attacked the Sherpa, did not leave much behind in food. It did not take me long to realise why Sherab, had fled from the camp. Upon looking at what was inside of his bag, made me aware to the fact, that he had stolen the food; and had planned to flee, and make off with our food. “I reckon that your man, was a fixing on scaddeling from us and a head tailing out of here, with our food. I tell you I have never seen a man, die such an agonising death for food not since my old daddy, killed a vagrant stealing some grits from the ranch back home, in Kyle!” You know the funny thing about this all is, that he seemed to not have a gotten so far! Why I tell you that I don’t think, that a hare wouldn’t outrun the critter, who killed this poor fellow!” Mr. Fuller eloquently stated. Indeed it seemed that, that was the case here. I could only mumbled, “I guess not!” Much like the others, he was so badly mauled and mangled by his dreaded assailant and attacker but there was one interesting thing so, that separated him from the rest or was distinguishable. What that was, was that Sherab had a bullet wound in his head suggesting that he had shot himself, and had committed suicide. The theory that he had much decided to kill himself before, the creature or his assailant would reach him was more feasible, and logical to me. Mr. Fuller, would soon come to that theory and conclusion himself, after detecting the bullet hole on his forehead. “Why if I wasn’t a mistaken here, I would believe that this man, put a bullet in his head to not be killed, by the critter. My my, I reckon I would have done the same that this poor soul did. I must commiserate his action!” It quickly daunted on me, that I was now at the mercy of Mr. Fuller. No longer could I count on the support of my men, Sherab’s death had sealed my doom it appeared. But if there was any consolation still left for me it was, that I still had control of the situation to an extent. After all Fuller needed me, to find the creature. But through my vainglory and arrogance, I had forgotten one important detail or fear what if he truly found the creature without my assistance or before I did, than what? Though Fuller did not mean to threaten me with his antics and display of superiority, I knew that just as he did not trust me, I did not trust him neither! It did not slip my mind to know of what he would do, in case he found the yeti without my help, or with my help. I knew that either way, he would much attempt to kill me! I had to somehow procrastinate until I could be certain of what my plan would be, in either case. My ingenuity was much greater than his yet, I could not be sure of that at all.

12:03 p.m.-I accompanied Fuller on the search and hunt for the creature. The weather was much clearer now; though there were still trickles and drops of snow truly, still falling upon the ground itself. It was still a chilly day and a frosty and rimy one as well, for rime still mildly so persisted. The rife amount of snow which fell, was still a haunting remainder, to our predicament. Despite the still harsh and bitter conditions, the storm had at least subsided enough to allow us to indeed continue in our search for the yeti. I knew that Fuller was no imp, but he did not posses my dear intelligence and knowledge of the creature’s behaviour. It was truly a contest or agon, between the both of us. An agon that only time would tell truly, who was to be the winner. Even though, I knew that either way, whoever found the creature first that wretched Texan, would not hesitate to kill me and prevent me from receiving the accolades, and kudos. It was indeed a race against time, and against the weather as well. We had scanned a ratio of five miles wide, and five miles long; with a man, at each and every point. Since there were now only five of us living, and thus pertaining to Group A, one of us, would be able to join one of the others. We had decided that the hovel would be left unattended to, and that the things and objects that we had, were a little interest to the creature itself. We all knew fully well, that what the creature wanted was simply, food or water itself. I was the one, to join the Great Austin Fuller, on his search for the yeti. Every so precaution, was taken to the full letter. There were to be no surprises or repetitions of what had happened, to the other poor souls who have perished along the way; under the hands of the bestial one. I could see the great intensity and energy in the eyes of the Texan, and his determination and will to find the creature, was comparable to mine. I wonder as I look at him, who’s madness and obsession, is worser, his or mine? Though I was fully much more advanced and educated than him, our human behaviour, was so equal and treacherous. I could sense that Fuller’s distrust and hatred, toward me was growing but I could also sense, that his admiration for me was also growing. For truly in essence, we were not really that so vastly different, despite our backgrounds. Truly if everything else separated us in that manner, there was one common thing that united us both together, the hunt for the creature! We were both willingly to forsake others, for the golden chance of finding the wretched ape. “Why I do hope, that we can find that son of bitch sooner than later. Because my toes and fingers are a aching, and rather be in the sunny comfort of my warm and beloved ranch back home, in the Lone Star state of Texas!” I had listen whistedly and closely, to what the Texan was saying. It was a sign of debility, and weakness in his eyes. I had to seize that debility, and make it be propitious to my plan. But, I too was aching and writhing in deep pain, and discomfort. Despite the fact that I was furled and cladded, with the thickest and best fur coats around and clothing around, the gusting wind; and frigid snow and rime, penetrated into the depth and marrow of my stiffen, and rigid body. I had planned ahead for the foul weather, but I underestimated truly, the magnitude and impact of the ferocity that the cold represented in this time of year. Now was not the time to feel wane, nor so frangible. Now was the time to be so strong, and vigorous. I was determined, to not be the next victim of the creature or even, that of the wretched weather itself. With my hands and gloves, I would scour away, the snowflakes and the barrage of wind at times. “Do tell me something Mr. Danishman, why is it that you can’t seem, to find nor locate that darn varmint? I would have a reckon, that a man of your stature and pedigree would have no problem, and finding the darn whereabouts, of any strange creature!”

I then looked at him, and asked, “What do you mean by that my dear friend?” He then let out another puff of his smoking cigars which happened to breeze my face, before he said then to me. “Since you’ve been here before, I kind of reckon, that you should be the expert here!” His lips curled to the side, as a clever smirk then emerged, from his mouth. Indeed he was cunning and wily this Texan, and I did not fancy his remark at all, and I made that known to him in the most obvious way. “It is true, that I have been here before, and I know about the creature’s odd habitance and dwelling. And it is true, that I am a very affluent, and well known archaeologist and doctor; but I am not God, nor am I a connoisseur of the creature’s obeisance and compliance for that matter. If we are to wonder about our progress then, perhaps I should ask you the good question of why we haven’t found nor located the creature so? After all my dear Texan, you are supposed to be the Great Austin Fuller. Why as you say, “It’s as easy, as finding a hare under a bush!” I then felt the need and compulsion, to show off my fripperous smirk. I could tell, that at first, he did not find my response to be, quite amusing and receptive. But after a serious twinge in his eye, he then began to cachinate. “Why, you son of a bitch, if I didn’t have a sense of humour and good wit, why I indeed would’ve skin you alive, like a rattler snake or worse, put a bullet in your head by now boy!” I could tell that in his subtle way of expression, he was rile and angry about my aspersing remarks toward him. It almost seemed that he was threatening me once again, and telling me to be much more careful, and squeamish with my words of rhetoric. I realised that though, I was not indeed physically intimidated nor daunted by the Texan, any man who carried a rifle and gun like him, could not be treated so lightly. I had to be at least for the moment, much more neat and spruce figuratively speaking. I could not afford to get involve in senseless syllogisms, and disputes with him. 4:02 p.m.-We ate and rested only for a half hour, talking amongst ourselves. Fuller, was much more private about his family life in particular about his experiences as a child, which from all the clacking that he does when he talks about his father, it leads me to believe, that his dearest childhood, was more but a bitter one. What a poor soul, I almost felt sorry to think that of him. Although he never mentioned his sadness as a child, I could tell, that there was hostility of some nature stay raging inside of him. All that he preferred to talk about, was his many so successful adventures and hunts along with his trophies which to him, were as divine, as God himself. I do often wonder upon looking at him, how could a man dress so poorly, and so much ill prepared for the weather? His clads, were but lighter than me. Infact so were his men also. It was indeed strange to see not only him in these crazy conditions, but to see an Indian and above all a dear African, was indeed but too unusual to see. For it was truly an incredible and indeed, indelible sight to witness. His clothing were that of fur skin itself. He wore proudly beaver and buffalo coats, and jackets along with the same made fur, for his breeches. His shoes were elegant bearskin hiking boots, which covered up almost to his knees it seemed. He wore a type of bow tie underneath his coat. He donned on, a chic gamboge cowboy hat. He was a man who was fond of shaving daily. Infact, he would send one of his men to bring him at the nearby water spring, a bucket of hot and warm water. He was perhaps, truly the last of his breed. The last cowboy, or greatest hunter left. Truly, I had never seen any man spit tobacco or chew it, like this man.

5:35 p.m.-A scream could be heard coming from one of the directions in which, one of the men would patrolling. “Darn it! What in cotton picking hell, could that have a been? It sounded like Bubba, I reckon he must have seen something!” We then raced immediately and expeditiously, toward where the man or remaining trapper’s call of distress, could be heard coming from. The others, quickly ran there as well. Once we arrived at the spot, the trapper could not be found nor seen anywhere around the area. But yet, there was something that was left behind that belonged indeed to the trapper and that, was his rifle. There it was, laying there upon the snow and the ground itself; enmeshed truly by the snowflakes which still was falling upon the surface ground. “Darn it, where in the blazing hell, can Bubba be at now? Where can he have gone to?” Fuller said in a rage. He then ordered, and instructed the other remaining to find the remaining trapper; whilst he and I then, proceeded to wait. The Cree happened to be the one, to stumble onto the next clue which was his hat, and a trickle of blood stains, left engraved in the snow. He would then proceed to summon us to where he had found the hat, and the blood stains. When we did arrive, the African was already there by the side of the Cree. “What you’ve got there Toot?” Fuller asked. The Cree then showed him, the trapper’s beaver fur hat and the blood stains, which were found nearby the hat in the snow. “Where did you find the hat at Toot?” He pointed to the bloods stains, in which he had found there amongst the snow itself. “There in the ground, blood!” Fuller then asked the Indian, whose blood could it be. After smelling it with his touch he uttered, “It is the blood of man!” The Zulu then confirmed it as well, “He is gone now, Great Spirit of the plain has took him, like the wind of the sky!” I was not sure of what he was saying for to me, the African and the Cree, spoke in riddles and much conundrums. Although they spoke in English, it was more of Pidgin English. I still found it hard to understand their manner of speaking. Fuller then proceeded to explain to me, or expound on what I had fail to understand or decipher. “Why that’s easy to understand my boy, Bubba is a dead!” I then, inquired about the body, “Then where did his body go? Where is his body at?” Fuller didn’t exactly know, but at least felt that, he had a good clue to what probably happened to the body of his dear Bubba. “His dear body was probably taken away, by the critter himself!” “Maybe, we should continue to search for him?” I asked. Fuller then stared into my eyes, with this certain look of certainty; before he muttered, “It’s no good Danishman, he’s dead by now. I reckon, that’s he’s a hunting somewhere else by now!”

Although Fuller spoke at times in riddles and conundrums like his men, he did not need more to translate what I had deduced and that was, that the cursed creature, had taken the man away perhaps back to his cave? “Hvad et fattig menneske!” Fuller then overheard my words in Danish, “What did you say Danishman?” I only looked at him and said, “Nothing that important. How sad it must be, to perish and never be found!” Fuller would reply back, “I guess I reckon so!” For the first time, I had noticed a sign of deep sadness in his tone of voice and in his mien. He seemed that this death, was that of a close brother to him. At first, I didn’t know whether or not, to indulge myself in asking his reason for sadness. So, I was leath. But, I was able to shake off my hesitance and then, proceeded to ask him about his profound sadness. “Do you mind, if I ask you a personal question Mr. Fuller?” With a teary eye it seemed, he then answered, “What’ve you got to say to me?” I asked my sombre question. “Who was this man? If I am not mistaken, it seems that he was like a brother to you!” Fuller was still choking back tears in his eyes, “Ya, you can say that, and more about Bubba!”

There was this sense of curiosity, and intrigue in my mind. Was I led to believe, that this man “Bubba,” was indeed a blood brother of his? “Tell me something Mr. Fuller, was this man a relative of yours? Because it appears that he could be related to you. Perhaps, a brother?” Fuller then chuntered, “You a hit a bucket by the barrel of a gun there, Danishman. Bubba and I, were like two bloodhounds, born in the same womb!” Once again, he spoke in his Texas dialect; but I realised in between his words that, he was indeed admitting to me, that the man was indeed his brother. I said words of comfort and alleviation, “I do feel your pain, and your lost. I am sorry that you have lost your brother. Perhaps indeed, we could at least find his body soon.” Hearing my statement and the thought of the creature being the culprit, and the one who most likely so, killed his brother Bubba. Their was a storm of rage fuming in the eyes of Fuller. Just the mere thought of the creature conjured a deep resentment, and hatred for the creature. Truly vengeance and wrath, were in his present state of mind. The memory of the dear creature was enough to trigger a chain reaction in his being of thought. “Sure, you can bet your money Danishman their’s a something that we can do and that is, to find that son of a bitch, if my name isn’t Austin Fuller the third! I tell you, I will skin the son of a bitch alive, if I find that critter!” One didn’t need translation to understand, what exactly Fuller was raving about. The rile and disgust for the creature was boiling from his skin, and fuming from his eyes, which truly were like a wild man. I did not blame him, since I would have felt the same. But it was good for me that Fuller felt this passion and rage for then, his quest for the creature would be constant and never-ending as well. And that, was to my behove I admit. However sickening or apathetic it could sound at that moment, my drive to find the creature, was just as obsessive as his was now. Despite the fact that he was a croesus, and very rich back in his state of Texas; and was a good millionaire, his comportment and speech were more than a rustic and villatic man, from the old south. What was I to make and expect out of Fuller’s madness, and loathing for the creature now, since his good brother, was one of the victims?

10:19 p.m.-We have at last arrived back to the hovel, thank God! Fuller’s madness and much obsession to find the creature, is becoming a nuisance for me. And if I did not convince him so, to return to the hovel due to the wretched cold of the night, and the chance of dying out there in the midst of nowhere, he would have not returned yet. I wonder and cudgel, whether or not, it was wise of me to instore and inject in him, more hatred and vile for the creature? My health is truly beginning to become a question now. If this man, was much so determined to search for the creature all day and all night, despite the weather conditions outside then surely, sooner or later his madness and obsession, would be detrimental to me in the end. I must think hard, to what I must do truly concerning Fuller. His madness will consume, and destroy not only him but I fear, myself as well. “We shall make the journey, at the first crack of dawn my dear Danishman, so I reckon, that you get some good and needed rest; for the search tomorrow will be, like a pack of bloodless hounds tracking a hare, from it’s burrow. Why I tell you, that until we’s a find that son of a bitch, there will be no rest for us no more!” I could see the conviction and the determination, clearly in the fire of his eyes, which looks like the fire and flames of a furnace after coal is truly dumped into it. His idiosyncrasy, was beginning to become an issue with me. I had to find a way, to restrain and hold back his madness from becoming, demence and blatant insanity. I was faced with the challenge of having to find an efficacious way in which, I could restrict it but then, how could one find a common ground, that was conducive? The creature, why of course!

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

5 January-I woke up with the joy and fortune, that the storm from a day before, was truly over and that, I was able to resume with my search for the others. It was good to see the old sun blind my eyes, and to feel the much needed warmth of it’s rays as it permeated my badgered, and so blighted body. It was indeed irrefragable, the isogram on the map. I knew of what name of place I was situated at, but truly it was jerkwater for me. I had never been in this wretched and cursed terrain before never! No longer, was the food comestible to digest or eat for that matter. Why in the bloody hell, one could only be left to rapine and snivel, like a wretched terrier I say! I do not mean to say what I say in a rackish manner nor fashion, but the smidgens of food that are worth eating, and the fashens of tea bags which I carry, are quickly becoming bleak for my taste. How can a man live on these rashents I say? I was teeming mad, and rankled with my predicament. By Jove, I wasn’t having a rant at all. Instead the lineament of my body, was slowly so becoming somewhat listless and lolled. Such a contumely I say, and dear spot close on the old hearth of my fireplace at home would do wonders for my toes, and for my fingers as well as my blushing and reddening cheeks and ears as well. I was finding myself, talking and prating to my ownself not a soul around me, to be seen. I find myself recited poetry such as Thomas Gray, Sir Edmund Goose, Thomas Fuller, and even Shakespeare himself. How fitting our the lines, from his poem, “Life’s Decay.” That time of year thou mayst in me behold, When yello leaves, or none, or few, do hang. Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou see’st the twilight of such day, As after sunset fadeth in the west. Which by and by black night doth take away, Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest. Or I would sometimes sing and whistle away, that favourite song that I read in Dickens’s Great Expectations, “Old Clem!” One which I was fond as, as a boy whilst during my studies on Dickens’s novels and classics. Despite the frigid cold and bloody gust of wind, I can recall those enchanting words.

Hammer boys round Old Clem! With a thump and a sound Old Clem. Beat it out, beat it out Old Clem. With a clink for the stout Old Clem. Blow the fire, blow the fire Old Clem. Roaring dryer, Soaring higher Old Clem.

10:02 a.m.-I was able to bear and endure the winter hell another day, but sometimes I feel just barely. After having what could be called breakfast, I tended to the gibbosity of my swelling feet and fingers. I was at times forced to swinge at my ears and toes and fingers, in order to regain the sensation and gush of my blood and nerves. There was no swithe nor qualm in my mind as I thus swivel my eyes to peek and keek at the midst of the clouds, and the horizons beyond. If my feet and hands were anaesthetic and appraxic at times, at least I could find comfort and relief in the form of the one area, which neither the cold nor frigid weather, could effect me, my brain! Truly, this was no Arcadia or Cockaigne, or any alacrity. For the alfresco of this area, was more of a direful Hades. To be so afield from the friendly and affable confines of London, was worser than a night in the so dreadful streets of East London. The thought of dying out here in the middle of nowhere, and many many miles away from my dearest England was enough, to stimulate and inurgorate my desire and penchant, for keeping myself alive. Even though my predicament roiled and led me into swivet and churning, I had to overcome all negativity in a sense, to nith and go forth in this endeavour. The truth be told, it was really the only choice at hand that was presented to me. If one were to reach the marrow and core of my heart, one would come across a torn soul; with a torn body as it’s outershell. If the only consolation or hearthy prize, that was much bestowed upon me as an advantage would be only, an empirical observation of my journey. I had gathered my things, and decided to head forward in the search for the others. The incident from last night, was still fresh and active in my mind for the hair that I acquired, was put in wrapped into a plastic bag, as I treaded onto the snow covered and icy edged landscape itself. Likewise, was the piece of flesh. The dear empyrean, was somewhat mackerel and halcyon. I did not have the luxury, nor swankiness to indulge myself with the better pickings of the milieu, that indeed enshrouded me. Although the snow be it balmy and nesh, is still a burden to plod through. I can see, to some degree the comeliness of this place in the eyes of a poet or painter, for the landscape would be no other, than a canvass with a paint brush awaiting. Indeed, this was no jaunt or short journey instead it was to be but, a long arduous, and beclouding adventure. I found my strides and steps to be, cumbersome and effete whilomly. But, I could not renounce my task at hand; nor could I allow an abeyance in my legs. I had trekked at least, five miles in distance and still, no sign of them. I had descended down a slope of some sort, and reached a small stream it seemed. It was indeed a blessing, or benison it appeared. I had come to read and been told, about somekind of berries which were common in the area. I quickly dug through the three, or four inches of harsh snow covering the ground surface where upon, I was able to find some cold and hidden berries.

I quickly grabbed a handkerchief from one of my pockets and then, proceeded to wipe and cleanse the snow from them and along with the water, from the stream. I then sat there nether to a tree, and then quietly began to eat the berries. Just as I was there sitting and tasting the very delectable and ambrosial berries, a sudden aguing and addling noise, could be heard. I quickly rose to my feet. The sound so billowed and incremented in impact, and in fright. I carried my rifle near me, pressed to my body where the trigger of my finger, was but awaiting for whatever was to truly become. My hands doddered and fritted somewhat, and despite the gelid cold, small drops of perspiration, could be seen dripping down my frighten face. There were no others around me to depend on. The only aegis that I could afford to confide in, was the very rifle that I carried by my side. I turned my head around in every direction, expecting for the worse; and waiting for the bloody creature, to attack me at any time. I could hear the grunting noise somewhat of a much stridulated noise; it’s foot movements as it glimmered. I felt a nostalgic imprecation on me, as I waited; for it seemed, that I was to meet the same fate as the others who, were butchered and maimed to death by the creature.

Although the creature was ambulatory and movable, I could not descry nor see efficaciously at the creature; for it was penumbral and hidden, and it’s cache was, behind the sundry amount of trees aligned together in endless rows. Indeed so, the creature was clever and adroit in it’s actions, and behaviour. My teeth began to shudder and quaver. So I was forced to with my teeth, to press down on my upper lip. I cadge, that this be not the day of my death. I had to prod my mind, and be bold and brave in my stance and determination. I could not be frangible or enervated, and display any show of fear. Although it be a bravura, I had to show that, I was prepared and embraced, for the worse to happen. I could still hear the grunting and deep breathing of the unknown intruder. Although it scrieved, and stayed hidden, I knew that it was without a doubt the yeti for the grunting, and grumbling noise, was not that of yak, or any other kind of animal. I knew without a doubt that it the noise was being made by no other, than the dear yeti himself. The only question running and brewing in my mind was the fact, could it be, that there were more than one of these wretched bastards? Still with my finger on the triggers, and with my teeth somewhat shivering, I waited. It was then, that I could hear the creature getting nearer; as the sounds of the creature billowed, and got nearer. I could not afford to be leath or tarry; for my actions had to be fast and swith. For if the movements and the grunting of the creature could be heard then, I was to take it as, a blatant monitory. I then felt the creature getter nearer, and felt that it would be at any time now, that the creature would try to pounce on me killing me in the end. Now more than ever, I could not be non composmentis, nor enmeshed in inanition. It was then that I took the first step, and made the conscious decision, that I was not to stand there in wait to be slaughtered like a lamb, and ultimately fall prey to this malefic predator. I raised the gun and immediately, pulled the trigger and fired ahead. After five minutes or so afterwards, it was over. Silence could be heard from the audible sound, and I was glum and so, were my good movements. I then made the bold and intrepid decision, to go forward and check if the creature or whatever was there hiding behind the trees, was still there skulking about. I felt a paroxysm or pang in my arms and legs, but I knew that now was not the time to wilt for I had to be strong, and prepared in my actions. With the barrel of the rifle pointing straight ahead of me, and at the abundant amount of trees themselves I then, cautiously and gingerly, headed ahead. When I finally arrived just infront of the trees some ten feet away, I then hawed as if to hew myself with the thought that the creature was gone. But the doubt, was still present and lurking amongst the trees. If I was not nervous and attwittered then at that very moment, an ague and chill was but running down my spine even more. It was then that I patiently waited and waited, waiting for the stalker, to make it presence known to me. After waiting another ten minutes I realised, that the creature or whatever was, behind me was gone for the grunting, and grumbling sound had thus dissipated and vanished. It was then, that I heard a bird call, and I immediately twiddled. It was then, that I would be spooked and startled by a small pika, a rodent. My heart cringed and the muscles of my heart, squeeze tautly and tightly. The moue in my face, was but a shocking one at first but after coming across the animal I then, felt a deep sigh of relief. I then gave a couple of the berries that I had found, to the rodent. Just as I was kneeling, I then heard a loud and vociferous roar echoing throw the skies. I rose to my feet, and then quickly and hastily, grabbed the trigger of my rifle. Apparently it seemed, that I had either shot and then wounded the creature or scared it away, and even worser, infuriated the animal. The noise then appeared to have been coming at least several miles away, but with the echoes that resonated through the mountains it sounded as, it was but a foot away from me. I kept my composure and restrain in tact. Once again, it was time to continue with my search and once again, it was time to trudge through the snow and ice. The question on my mind was, was it the same creature, who I had wounded before back at the hovel? And where in the cursed hell, was I to wander or gad next to? I had lost the compass, and only had the wisdom and knowledge of the map that I had brought with me along the trip from London. Even though with that, I still was lost with where to go next. I knew how to return to the hovel, but the menacing drawback to that was the fact, that perhaps there amongst the hovel itself, could be the creature or worse, creatures themselves? In hindsight, I knew that there was no other choice, but to go on despite the fact, that I was not so guaranteed of finding another cave, or hovel for the night. I had to go on, and so I did!

6:09 p.m.-My cadaverous and ashen pale face writhed, with the gelid and cold breeze of the whistling wind. I had stopped to rest by a nearby knoll of somekind, and sought to flee from the lee. For nonce, the only huff that cloistered my thoughts, were the rote of my University rowing songs; and with other old popular songs of my childhood and infancy. For a moment, as I sat down by a rock, I did have a repenting and rueful thought and feeling. I had thought deeply in my mind, was it worth the risk and peril in coming here and sacrifying my bloody life, on what could appear more likely and feasible to be, an endless and aimless search for something that in the end could bloody cost my life, not the mention that of the others who still remained, and so lived? For a moment everything that was audible, became staid and quiet. It appeared, that the world that was infront of me was squelched, and erased from my hearing completely. I had so thought that perhaps, I was slowly dying. The cold, and frigid snow and ice, was beginning to penetrate the marrow of my body; despite the clothing that I donned. For indeed, my situation was extremely bleak and stark. How wry was it to find myself, dying in something that was a part of my life, archaeology itself. The whistling and echoing wind, no longer could be heard so, and only the thumping of my heart. I put the photograph of my dearest Martha at my side, thus looking at the beauty of her face my dearest Martha! Just as I thought my situation was coming to an end, I saw out of the corner of my eye, two shadowy figures. It was the last thing that I saw.

11:09 p.m.-I found myself awaken, by the sounds of what appeared to be a foreign language, which I could not comprehend completely. It was then that my eyes were clear and limpid, and I was able to see clearly the presence of Sherpas, and the surroundings of what appeared to be, a cabin of some sort. It had been several days, since I left the others at the rendez-vous point, and had started my search for others. I was in a terrible condition one in which, rendered me listless and nearly to the point of dehydration. My toes and fingers were but near frost-bitten, and the feeling of my fingers and toes were almost gone but I was fortunate, that I was able to not suffer consequences that could have so cost the usage of my fingers and toes. Not the least, my life! I would be given shelter and food and water, by the Sherpa men who had found me. The question was, where in the bloody hell was I at? And how far away from the search, was I as well?

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

12 January-Fuller’s rage has extended now for more, than a week now. I do fear, that he is slowly losing his sanity and composure. In order to reduce and restrain his anger and wrath, he wakes up in the early morning, and takes shots at the birds that fly by the area so. I can hear his shots clearly and loudly through my ears, for they seem to deafen them completely. I wonder as each and every day goes by, and each and every mile we trek, when will we come face to face with the creature or one of the creatures. I am afraid that it must be soon or then, we will be face with the extreme possibility of starving ourselves or worse, freezing to death up here so. I have suggested, that we should seek a Sherpa village one which Sherab, had mentioned to me to be. It was as he said to be somewhere below us, but just a few miles ahead. We were able to stay at another abandoned cave last night but I fear, that unless we can find the village then so, we shall perish without a doubt! Fuller has confessed to me, that if the creature was not to be found today or tomorrow then, we would then venture to locate and find the village. I cannot escape nor can I forgot the look on Fuller’s face, as I posed that question to him. Neither can I forget his sudden moods changes and expressions. He is a Dr. Jeckle and Mr. Hyde at times. I must be careful and aware of these changes and expressions of his.

9:45 p.m.-We have spent the whole wretched day, in the search for the creature; and there was little time to eat and drink during the day. Indeed, Fuller’s madness and obsession, is becoming uncontrollable and too unbearable. Though, I am in a haste to find the creature still, my approach is much more co-ordinated and thought out, whilst Fuller’s was much more reckless, and much hazardous to us all. I fear that he will kill us all, if not by a bullet from his rifle then, by shear old deprivation and fatigue. Miles and miles we travelled, and inch and inch we covered only down to I, the Zulu, the Cree, and of course, Fuller himself. I fear that by his recklessness, we shall all die of frost bite, or disease. If it not have been for the emergence of the night, and the departure of the sun then, he would have had us like a slave or thrall bonded in chains and in manacles. I cannot forget those poignant words of his, ones which he clacked and grabbled, throughout the whole day, “I ain’t a settling for squat or second fiddle, until I can find the son of a bitch. I shall find that darn varmint, if my name isn’t, the Great Austin Fuller the third!”

13 January-Today was to be Fuller’s last day to find the creature, for as it was agreed we would try to locate the village and from there, we would stop by and get more materials, goods, that were dearly needed by all of us on this expedition. I was awakened so, at the crack of dawn by Fuller barely enough time, to catch something to eat and drink before, we were to set off, and find the creature. I had thought of staying behind and resting for at least today, or having the odd urge, to go myself and try to find the supposed Sherpa village but I realised, that either way on my own, I could be left behind, or led astray. On one hand, my body was aching to death almost, and on the other hand, I was seeking to find the village, and to warm up a bit indeed. Then I was resume the search. The only problem was if I stayed behind then, the creature would kill me. But if I went on, and continued the search from dawn to dust then Fuller’s madness, would kill me as well. I was faced with the dilemma, of having to choose the lesser devil, from the two I faced.

I was determined, that if Fuller was not to acquiesce in trying to find the supposed nearby village then I would without a doubt, venture off myself in finding it, despite any obstacle or foe I could face in the form of the weather or even that, of the creature itself! Despite my incredible determination and need to find the creature, I realised as well, that I had to be healthy and sound in order to face the creature. Since I knew pretty much really, where the creature would be then, I was confident, that I could come back, in track it within a few days or so. All during the whole wretched day, we spent waiting and waiting for the creature or creatures to be found. Despite all the traps and snares, that were put out and laid out by Fuller and his men, and despite the bait of which was employed and used, still there was no sign of the creature or creatures around to be seen. Fuller had decided that it was best, to still employ the strategy of having his men so spread out, and scattered in each direction despite the fact, that it could mean almost death to any of the men for the creature was not shy, of killing any human at all. It was as if Fuller so, was sending each and every one of his men, to their possible death! But then again, I had little to no concern about the other’s fate deep down as long as, I was not one of the creature’s next victim.

6:29 p.m.-Just as the sun was setting in the remainder of the day, a shout could be heard thence coming, from the direction in which one of Fuller’s men, was surveying the area. There when we arrived, we were able much like the trapper, to find no sign or shreds of any human remains. The only reminder of the presence of the African Zulu warrior, was his long and sharpen knife. There was also, apparent traces and vestiges, of human bloods. Once again like before, the Cree Indian would be the one, to discover the inklings of blood stains. Fuller upon looking at the stains, and realising that again, the creature was behind the seemingly death of the African, screamed. “Why that darn varmint, has struck again I am afraid!” He looked at the eyes of the Indian, and then he said to him, “Don’t worry boy, we’ll find that critter, that I can guarantee you. And when we do find that varmint, I promise you, that I have that varmint, skinned alive!” His eyes, were so filled with even more rage and fury; for his eyebrows curled up, like a devilish huckster. There, were no tracks this time to lead one for it seemed and appeared, that the creature left somehow, no tracks at all in the snow, or was intelligent and astute enough, to cover up his tracks and steps. It was obvious the creature’s sophistication and cunningness, was ever so more admirable but yet, menacing.

10:50 p.m.-We returned again back to the cave, and took shelter for the night. Fuller like before, resisted and scoffed at the idea of even, returning back to the hovel, without the creature. It did seem, that after explaining to Fuller about the need to search for the village and bring back some much needed materials and goods, along with more men, I was able to persuade and make him see the light of day in the end. The fact, that we were quickly running out of men and goods, was cause enough in the end, to make him see the reality of our present situation, and predicament. I fear that his madness has become insanity, but through the grace of my ability and my power of persuasion, I was able to make Fuller even through his great wrath and arrogance, see the need of having to wait until the tide had changed, and it would be then, to our advantage. By stating the obvious, that by reinforcing ourselves with more men, and with more materials and goods then, we were surely in route, to almost certain death. Although we were closer to find the creature, we still had the liberty and knowledge that indeed the creature existed, and was somewhere but around these mountains roaming about, like a savage beast.

14 January-We headed off today, for the supposed village sight of the Sherpas, that laid some twenty or so miles away from our present position. We had gathered our things together, and left early in the morning about, 9:00 a.m. From what I could recall from hearing from dear Sherab the village itself, was suppose to lay ahead. Indeed it was a shame and tragedy, to not have Sherab still with us but that itself, was not the problem here but instead, the fact that none of us were sure that the village even existed. After thinking and cudgelling about the matter with a fervent pensive thought I realised, that there was no other choice to select. And besides, I did need to have more men on my side. I fear that if not, Fuller would indeed drive me to the odd point of death whether it be by his hands, or by the weather or even by, the creature itself. The prospect of facing death up here all alone in a forsaken place, was one that was increasing by the minute and one in which, I wasn’t coveting nor desiring. Although, my greed and avaricity was equalled to Fuller’s at least, my madness wasn’t! I had mentioned to Fuller, that it was best to leave some sort of markings left in place, branches, twigs, etc; in order to be able to, return or find our way back to the hovel. I can only hope that the village shall be there, and that we shall not have to return to the hovel, empty handed!

2:49 p.m.-We searched and searched, and trekked and trekked the necessary amount of miles that were necessary to trek in order to reach, the supposed village. Just as everything appeared bleak and dire we at last, were able to find and locate the remote and seclusive Sherpa village. We were forced to descend downwards a bit, in order to locate the Sherpa village knowing that once again, we would have to climb up the mountains some bit. But in the end, it was something that all of us, even the stalwart and stubborn Mr. Fuller was able to accept. With every ounce of breath and strength nearly, at the stage of inanition and exhaustion, we managed truly to make it to the small, and quaint Sherpa Village. Once at the village, I was capable to communicate truly somewhat to the Sherpas, about our dire predicament. Fortunately for me, I was not forced, to explain much for our wretched condition and presence, was enough for them to know, why we had come to the village. We had trekked and journeyed to find the village, but I knew as I looked behind me, that there through hazy midst of air and the eerie and haunting snow and ice covered mountains, was the creature called the yeti. The howling wind and frigid cold, was to be escaped at least, for the moment.

8:08 p.m.-We were able to eat and drink and become warm, due to the hospitality and kindness of the Sherpas. Unbeknown to me, I had once before stumbled upon this Sherpa village, on my prior and previous expedition. And I had forgotten as well, that Sherab had been with me when I had arrived here the very first time. I don’t know how, I was not able to remember or recall, that certain detail of memory. I supposed, that through all the commotion with the creature, and with the planning of the expedition, I had totally and completely, had forgotten about this remote and distant Sherpa Village. “It seems that you’ve been here before Danishman?” inquired my dearest Fuller. Thankfully none of us were at the state, of in extremis. Indeed none of us, had suffered frostbite or any major disease, or illness. I supposed that the grace of the God that looks over us, must have been at least on our side for the time being. Indeed the warmth of the fire and the dear comfort of a cabin, and decent good food and potable water, was beyond the simple pleasure of comfort itself. Although, this was not paradise nor Denmark it was still good enough, to rest for some time and get the much needed goods and materials, that were needed to continue our search for the illusive creature. Since there were many Westerners and foreign explorers and archaeologists and anthropologists who had visited the area, the Sherpa’s villages, had become truly a haven for these people. “Why it seems that I have, it must have slipped my mind Mr. Fuller!” He asked me immediately, “How long do you reckon, that we are to stay here Danishman?” I told him simply, “I don’t know, perhaps a week or more, until our bodies have warmed up enough; and we have gathered enough materials to be prepared, for our trip back into the mountains themselves. Don’t you reckon that we should be prepared at all cost, with the necessary equipment and goods not the least, with our bodies in tact? Does that not make logical sense to you Mr. Fuller?” He would reluctantly acquiesced with my analogy. “I reckon so, after all, I reckon you’ve got a point there Danishman. Why lamesakes, now that we know that the creature exists, and where it’s territory is at why it’s going be, like picking off rodents from a snake hole and like branding a steer back home, at the ranch Danishman!” It seemed the thought of heading back up there to the wretched mountains, and getting the chance and opportunity to be able to kill the creature, seemed to truly yauld and inurgorate his energy, and verve itself.

10:09 p.m.-We were pretty much able, to recover from the freezing and rigid effects of the snow and cold, to somewhat better condition. Apparently, Fuller’s fingers were commatosed; and he was forced to warm his fingers much more than I or the Cree. Thankfully, I was able to take off my boots, and warm my much needed toes, and other parts of my body. A good hot steamy bath, was able to recover all of us and by this time, I was at least gracious for the Sherpa’s good, and warm hospitality. We spent the remaining of the night recovering, and recuperating from our old stiffen and rigid bodies. This night talk, was best left for the following morning. It was indeed so much better, that I get my necessary sleep as well.

16 January-It has been three days now, since we were able to find this Sherpa village and have been presently, staying at. I can feel the circulation of my blood, and the warmth of my dearest fingers and toes, nearly to complete recovering but still, it was best to wait at least a couple of more days before, we would embark once again on our journey and quest or as Mr Fuller saids, the “hunt!” I have had to convince Fuller that it was better for us, to at least wait, a couple of more days until we could be certain, that it was safe and sound for our bodies to begin the trek again up the mountains, somewhat. Though we were not forced, to climb up the steep mountains that we once did from our commencement of this journey, it was better to be physically and so mentally prepared, for the climb and journey. “All right Danishman, I reckon, that we’ll a wait at least a couple of more days, until we start the saddles again!”

8:19 p.m.-We spent the day, still recuperating and planning our new steps in finding the illusive creature. And we were able to ascertain, some new maps; and guides as well, in the way of some more Sherpa men. There was some comfort for Fuller at least, and it was the fact that he was able to acquire, some new type of cigars that he could smoke and have a pant. His adulation and joy for his newly acquired cigars, which I believe were English, seemed to keep him at bay. If there was one thing which he was interested in seeing, that was the sight of a newly fresh made cigar.

“Why hallelujah! I done found me, some darn good and reputable English cigars!” He then threw me one of the cigars, and then he asked me, “Have you ever tasted such a fine and exquisite English cigar like these before, Danishman? Why such a cigar like Chesterfield’s, is I reckon, the best the one can find, due to the situation here!” It had been quite a long time, that I had taken a pant, from a cigar before but then again, why not I said to myself. “No, I haven’t. But, there is always a first time you know!” “That’s the spirit there Danishman, I knew that you weren’t as lame as those, English yellow belly companions of yours. Why if I didn’t know, I would believe, that your more a man like me who knows, how to separate pleasure, from the labours of work!” said an eupeptic Fuller. “I believe, that you have a good point yourself there Mr. Fuller!” We spent almost the whole night smoking cigars whilst Toot the Cree, smoked from his ancestral pipe and danced for us, some of his native dances, and the Sherpas danced along and played their music as well. Fuller grabbed out his banjo, whilst I sang old Danish songs. Sir Bunbury’s

Journal 17 January-It has been nearly a week, since the several of the Sherpa’s of this village found me laying nearly dead, back there somewhat in the forsaken mountains themselves. I had been able to somehow in a miraculous way, able to recuperate and regain my body functions and strength and equilibrium as well. I was not able to communicate effectively, and very much efficaciously with the Sherpas themselves; for neither one of the men of this village, knew any English at all. I was forced to communicate or interact with them, using hand signs and simple and banal human gestures and expressions which I was fortunate and lucky, that they did not interpret as being, offensive or raffish. They were extremely interested in seeing an Englishman, and above all, a Westerner in their area of the country. They appeared to be eager at first to sell me, anything that they could offer or sell, whether it be fur coats, goods such as food and small canteens; and other items, which were needed and useful, in making expeditions to the enigmatic and vast mountains themselves, or around them. Since I was needing some new things in the way of new warm and comforting boots, and thermal clothing itself, along with the others items that they were offering me, I sought it best, to accept their gracious offerings; and fortunately for me their prices, were not so steep nor costly. I had come to appreciate the Sherpas, indeed. They saved me from almost, a lingering death back there in the mountains. I was of course much grateful to them, and owned them more than mere and simple gratitude. I had come to learn their ways somewhat, though unable to truly speak to them much effectively. I had learned some of their native words, primarily the needed ones which dealt with food and water, and with materials and goods. I had become fond indeed of their cooking and of their native alcoholic beverage, which could tipple a man somewhat. It was no Scottish brandy nor Russian vodka, but it was somewhat much more tame, than those type of alcoholic drinks.

Infact I was told, that along with the contents of alcohol, herbs of some sort were thrown in, and mixed up in the brewage of the drink. It seemed to be quite sour and acrid in taste, but after sipping a couple of more cups of it I realised, that it wasn’t extremely so bad or sapid infact it could stir up, a feeze in a man. After all, being nearly dead out in the cold and wretched conditions of the mountains, it was better than dying! Why at this point, the taste of anything that wasn’t water from the ravine or those old tea bags, was delectable to me. How Monty would have gave me flack, for such an unenglishman way of expression!

7:03 p.m.-I joined the Sherpas, in having what one Westerner would say, “dinner.” They had treated me for the days that I had been a guest, and visitor in their village, with utmost respect and cordiality. After the drink which literally, was like my father saying back in England, “I had a cordial to tipple, and a woman to devour!” I had no qualms nor second thoughts whatsoever, in partaking with these people. They were the locals and I was the Westerner, but in their most humble and generous eyes I was, more of their gracious visitor. The Sherpas, were extremely so religious, and devoted practitioners of Buddhism itself. They were the marrow, and core of the sacred religion of Asia itself. I had never study much about the religion itself, nor did I ever even meet a follower of Budda. I was never bestowed with the pleasure as I am now to had the chance really, to come to know and study these primitive and chthonic great individuals. Their culture much like their language, was but alien to me. Their religion, way or life, was but foreign to my concept of thought. Their homes were not stys as I had been led to read or know; and the wide squinting eyes of theirs and small feet, was but, an enlavished story of the Westerner’s own true imagination. Why yes their eyes were squinted, and some of them had small feet; but the truth be told every Asian had squinted eyes, and not every Sherpa was small in feet, and in stature for that matter. I had come to know several of them before, in the case before our departure from the first village in which we began our expedition. But, this was the first time, that I had gotten to know a whole village in itself; something of which, I had little interest, or time previously. It was indeed, an amazement and wonder, to witness and attest to personally.

Although we were on the brink of the nineteen century and an era of modernisation itself, the Sherpa’s were but totally the reverse. Despite their limited contacts with Westerners in trading, they preferred to stay in the past in the manner of their clothing, upbringing, way of living etc. Though this was not Karakorum in Great Mongolia, and I was not Marco Polo, and these people were not the Great Hordes of Mongols who roamed and conquered a great vast empire, I had this uncanny feeling much like the dearest Venetian trader of the thirteen century himself, that I had come across the presence of these still unknown type of people, who despite their contact with Westerners, were still foreign and much unknown to any Englishman let alone, a European! Their pots and pans, were not like ours truly though, they had acquired the ones that they had, through contact with the anthropologists, and archaeologists, who happened to stumble along their route. Their tables were but not even that of tables, but instead, dinner much like breakfast and lunch, were to be partaken, on the very floor itself. It was of course much different then the case with Tengri and his family, whilst they were the opposite, they had a table and their mien was much more civilise, and so modern to a degree. But I suppose that through the shear amount of western contact, they one would be much more in tune with the changes of society, though be primitive as this one.

9:40 p.m.-I had managed to conceal the specimen of the creature to myself, in a surreptitious manner, penumbral to the others for fear, that they would immediately take it from me. Although I had to trust them, and be somewhat so friendly and so amiable enough, to gain their trust and favours with them; still the fact that I had a specimen of the yeti, was something that could of cause them to react hostile toward me. I sat down in what could be called a bed, which was nothing more than a hardened cot, or something close to it. While I was there laying about, I began to wonder about whether or not, I was to ask questions or not about the yeti, to the Sherpas themselves.

I could not escape the desire and curiosity to know, if they could embellished me, about not only the exact whereabouts of the creature but also, any sightings or physical descriptions of the creature. Though, I had seen a foot of the creature, and read in books indeed, about general descriptions about it’s full appearance, I had not had the liberty, to actually see a full grown and actual yeti itself. Just perhaps I thought in my mind, they would know more about the creature, since they were the true inhabitants and natives of this area itself. Since I have been here, I have truly in earnest had the chance and opportunity, to fully studying the Sherpa’s way of living and interacting. I had described their houses as cabins, but there were several Sherpa’s who still truly preferred the way of the yurt; which was more of some sort of hut. I had heard and come across the huts of the Mongolians in Mongolia, and the wigwams of the Indians in America; but never did I ever see one in person, as I did today. Truly, it was an incredible and uplifting experience. Just as I was about to decide whether or not, I was to chat with the Sherpas, about the mystical and majestic creature called the yeti, a strange man then entered my room. The stranger was a strange sight to see. His clothing, was much more sophisticated, and modern. His hair was short and neatly cut, and so was his moustache which was neatly primed as well. His spectacles seemed to indicate, that he was donnish, and pedantic. But despite all those modern references and despite his Western and European guise, what was truly much more than astonishing and amazing was the fact, that he was a Sherpa much like the Sherpas of the village in which I was in. He stretched out his hand, and then introduced himself to me, “Good evening, Sir Bunbury, it is so good to have finally had the chance to meet you, my fellow professor. My name is Cham Kham!” I was hesitant and leath to shake his hand for the simple fact, that I did not know the man. But then again I realised so, that it didn’t hurt to at least, shake his hand. “Good evening to you, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kham. I must admit that your attire and your appearance, resembles that of a Westerner or European. But that can’t be the case, since your countenance and skin colour, shews that of a Sherpa!” Mr. Kham, would just chortle at my comments and statement for to him, it appeared to be so customary to hear such a unwheedling thing. “That is quite a common thing to hear for as you can see, despite my clothing and other apparels, and despite my studies in India, Nepal, and England. And despite that fact, that I am also a certified doctor and medic, as well as an anthropologist, I am what you say I am, a mere Sherpa!” I was a bit amazed to hear him say, that he was a doctor, but I was even more amazed by the fact that he would confess to me, that he graduated from Oxford like myself. “You say, that you are a doctor, and anthropologist. I wonder if I can ask, where did you receive your dearest credentials at? Somewhere in India, or Nepal?” I asked. “Well, you would be surprised to know, that I did not receive my credentials in neither India, nor in Nepal. Why, I received them back at Oxford, in your beloved England?” He said with a cunning smile on his face. I was left, with the shame and stupidity; and fatuity of my ignorance. “Do forgive me Professor Kham, I must attest, that my lack of acquaintance with your people, and with Asia in particular, has blinded me as an ignoramus; and made me doltish for that matter. Once again, I ask that you excuse me, for my lack of knowledge of your people!” Professor Kham seemed to be much more receptive to my apology, and more accustomed to western intrigue; and fallacies of Asia. “Why, do not worry about it Sir Bunbury, I have come to be quite wonted with these sort of reactions towards me; and besides, I do not find it offensive neither aspersing, to hear one’s man own confessions why then, we would not be human at all!”

He then said to me, “You see to us Buddhists, we put much more credence in the purity of one’s own mind and heart. If man did not speak his mind then, he could not so seek greater enlightenment through his ownself!” Although, I was not deft nor cuth in Buddhism itself, I had found some strange meaning to his words, that left me speechless somewhat. The only thing that I could say was, “Wise words indeed my dear professor!” We proceeded to have a pleasant and interesting parley with each other. We had dabbed in our studies, and our lives in general. What I had learned about Professor Kham, was that he was an orphan since childhood and that, he had been raised by an Englishman by the name of Lord Timmons, who would upon his visit to Nepal from India come across Professor Kham, and gave him the tutelage of his care and supervision. And, became his benefactor. Lord Timmons educated him in customs, education, and other so necessary things in life. He was married, and lived in the principle city of Kathmandu, where he was a local doctor there, practising medicine. He had a son and two daughters, and was but a year younger than I. “I hear, that you have begun to adapt yourself to our ways, customs, and even, our language. Is that true?” We were sitting about hoveled around what could be called a fireplace, and eating some type of Sherpa bread as well. “Well, I must admit my dear and fellow professor, that I am not even close to mastering your customs and even mastering your language for I am afraid, that I am, no connoisseur at all!” It would bring a laughter in the professor and the others as he translated to them, what I had said to the dear professor. They all cachinated together, while at first I was not certain, whether or not to laugh with them, but since it was probably the most logical, and pratical thing to do, I joined in with the laughter. It was then, that I was capable to slip in the conversation, the issue about the yeti the creature. “Tell me something Professor Kham you say, that you are an inhabitant of this area and, an anthropologist also. Believe me I do believe your credentials, but there is something which is puzzling me and something that I would love to know truly in particular, your opinion.” Professor Kham responded in curious fashion, “Well, that would all depend, on what exactly is it, that you are requesting my opinion for.” It was then, that I brought up the question of the yeti into our chat. “Well how can I ask this question?” Professor Kham told me to relax, and be free to ask him anything. “You are amongst friends here Professor Bunbury, it is quite all right for you, to ask any question that you want to ask in general. We dear Sherpas, and we Buddhists believed that, the soul of one, cannot be free unless, he relieves any sense of doubt or secret! So as a Buddhist, it is of our nature, to be open with our minds for if not, it would only limit the old mind of one. And without knowledge, man’s soul cannot thrive in earnest!” “Do you believe in the existence of the creature called the yeti?” It appeared to have left the professor somewhat speechless himself. He was not sure of what to reply, but he was a good sport; and replied exactly, what he felt from inside of him. “Well, you pose a mighty interesting and good question Professor Bunbury, and I must admit and confess to you, that I know very little about the actual presence of the creature. As an archaeologist and anthropologist, I have studied and attempted to find the creature and as small child and a Sherpa I have heard, and come across many stories about the legendary creature called the yeti.” I once again imposed my question about the creature’s existence. “Do you believe that the creature is real, or do you truly believe, that he is merely a myth or a superstition?”

Professor Kham then, at last answered my telling question. “I personally, believe that the creature does exist; and is not a mere myth, as one would believe. I tell you, dear Sir Bunbury, that I myself have never seen nor come across the yeti, before in my all my years living in this life; nor do I believe that I myself will. Although one of the men here, has seen and come face to face with the creature!” I then, inquisitively asked, “Who are you referring to Professor Kham?” He then proceeded to call the man who he had mentioned to me. It was then, that from among the crowd of Sherpa men, that were congregated and cohorted together a man stood up, and made his presence known. He was an elderly man, his hair was hoary and grey, he was small in stature and his wrinkles crumpled his forehead, and the rest of his lineament. He had what did appear to be, a small moustache accompanied by a small beard, which was nothing but a shrub of hair under his chin. Professor Kham introduced him to me, “This is Mr. Odam, and he indeed personally, has seen the creature called the yeti.” I was curious and eager to know the details of the old man’s story. Perhaps his story was actual, or perhaps, it was but an embellished version of things? Either way, I was indeed interested to hear it. “Can you ask him, if he could tell me of his tale. I am anxious to hear his story indeed.” It was then that the old and fragile man, began to narrate his story as Professor Kham, would serve as my translator. It appeared to me, as the man begin to speak, he spoke like an orator; although, he used his hands as his guide. It was finally at last comforting to find someone who spoke English. Although, I had learn a whee bit of the Sherpa language, I did not know or learn enough, to have an efficacious and fluent conversation with the Sherpas at least, not quite enough, to ask about the yeti itself. The following words are of course the translation of my dear Professor Kham himself, of the old Sherpa man’s actual words. “It was one winter day, back some fifty years ago in the year 1845, when he was but twenty six years old!” I then interjected by asking, when exactly was the old man born. “Pardon me Professor Kham, in what year was this man born in?” The man would proceed to confirm to Professor Kham the year in which he was born in. “He was borne in the year, 1819 here in this very own village.” I then told Professor Kham, to tell the man to proceed with his story and, that I would not interrupt his story no more. So, the old man did what I asked him to do, and proceeded to continue his tale. “He was with his father who has since long died and passed, onto the next stage of reincarnation.”

When I heard him say, “The next stage of reincarnation,” I cudgelled in my mind, what truly was he making reference to, when he made that statement. But, I thought to keep my good questions to afterwards; for my inquiry was more aligned to knowing as much information that I could obtain, or get from these primitive persons. “He was trying along with his father, to reach another village. He had some newly trapped deers on the back of his yak, brought from his dear village. They were about some, twenty miles from the propinquity of the other village, of which was their destination. The gust of the wind that day was so strong and bustling, and the weather was cold and frigid but still they were determined, to make it to the other village with their dear propriety; in order to trade with the other men of the village. As they were passing by a long and narrow passage through rocks and boulders, they heard indeed, a deep breathing and grunting noise, coming directly from behind them both. The sound or noise, had startled and scared the yak causing him to react unnervely and attwitterly. The animal had become too agitated, and spooked that he began to swirvel and frit about. As he tried to control the yak, a strange and horrific monster then, appeared from out of nowhere and abruptly attacked the yak and him knocking him down to his feet, with a long and sharp claw. The father grabbed his rifle, and immediately began to shoot at the creature. There could be shots being heard echoing from the mountains themselves. He along with his old father, were able to see clearly and effectively, the countenance and body of the creature before it was to scamper and scurry away dripping blood, from the wound that it had suffered. The creature made one last gesture toward them and that, was to stare profusely at them; and then lash out with a loud and obstreperous roar, before it departed into the midst of the mountains. It’s curr, could be heard echoing from miles away. How his feet trembled and fritted, as the creature was so close to him at one time. The creature then disappeared, vanished into the hazy and fogy air of the old mountains. That was the last, that they ever saw of the yeti. They never again, travelled through that route again. And in fact, not since that day back in the year 1845, has anyone of this village ever been, through that route neither. Legend say, that is the place and haven, for the old creature itself. It is said, that is where one will find the true lair of the yeti. There alone, will one find the creature but if only if one, is brave enough to venture there!” I asked my questions, ever intrigued by the old man’s account of his dreaded encounter with the horrific creature. “Ask him, if he could describe to me in details perhaps, what exactly he saw in the way of the creature’s description Professor Kham? It is extremely vital and much important, that I know exactly the general description of the creature.

Professor Kham was a bit, uncertain and unsure of my intentions, and reasoning in wanting to know about, the mystical odd creature called the yeti. It appeared that he was leath at first, but much to my amazement then, proceeded to ask the old man a very important question. After asking the question, and thence afterwards getting the old man’s reply, he then proceeded to reveal to me in essentially word by word, the actual description of the creature by the old man. Though I could not truly understand the old man’s words, I could see vividly in his expressions and conveyance he was affected; for it appeared it did tinge him in that aspect. “He saids, that the creature, was tall and long; and he had long fangs as teeth. He had white hair that was fur covering the entirety of the body, and his hands were big, as well as his feet. But there was one thing that was haunting, and menacing and that was his horrible red eyes, which were like a demon itself!” It was then, that Professor Kham inquired about my sudden interest in the yeti. “Tell me something Sir Bunbury, what is your interest in the yeti, if I may ask?” I was caught with the odd decision of having to reveal my recent discovery by the way of the specimen, of the old creature. “Well, I don’t know truly how to explain nor expound on what I know. I would be remiss, if I lied and said, that I did not have an interest in finding or locating the mystical creature. But truly, there is one thing of which I am certain, you will find it to be rather interesting.” Professor Kham then asked, “What do you mean by that Sir Bunbury?” I decided to make my recent discovery of the hair of the creature’s foot, known to the Sherpa professor. I then rose to my feet, and then headed for my knapsack in which the specimen, was so gingerly kept in. “Please come with me Professor Kham, there is something which I would love to show you professor,” I said. Professor Kham, proceeded to follow me into what could be called my guest room. Be it that or not, it was where I had the creature’s specimen of hair and flesh, kept at.

Once he arrived, I took the fully preserved and concealed hair of the creature; and proceeded to reveal it to him. It was slowly and cautiously takened out of the knapsack, and the good Professor Kham, was able to descry at it with his own observation. I had told the professor, to adress me more as his fellow professor. He put his spectacles tightly close to him, and then with an amazement, and this utmost astonishment then replied, “I can’t believe this, Professor Bunbury. Where did you exactly find this specimen at Professor Bunbury?” I then proceeded to explain my story to Professor Kham. “Well, I found the specimen of the creature somewhere some twenty or thirty miles away from here; austral from here. I was on a foray with some other of my fellow colleagues, who were on a foray of their own, to find and locate the mysterious and orphic yeti.” Professor Kham, being a qualified anthropologist, was the most indicated person to know about the hidden secrets, or meanings, that the mere hair represented. Perhaps in him, I could get some answers that I had missed, in my research of the fibbers. I truly want to know what was the outlook and opinion of an anthropologist’s point of view. “So tell me professor, what is your personal observation of the foot? Since you are an anthropologist, I must differ to you in this field of study.” Professor Kham then asked me about my personal opinion. “First tell me, what did you discover in your study and research Professor Bunbury?” I acquiesced his request, and proceeded to answer his question. “I have determined in my own personal and research and study, that the specimen of this creature is but indeed that of a primate some sort of ape; a kindred of the African gorilla perhaps. After then making a thorough investigation, I determined and came to the conclusion that the creature, was not an ape nor a mere monkey, but something of that nature.” Professor Kham, inquired how I obtained the specimen noticing, that they were samples of blood stains still fresh on the specimen. “I see there are samples of fresh blood stains still on the specimen, it appeared that indeed the specimen was severe. That is obviously what happened to the specimen, but still you have not told me, how exactly was the specimen severed and thus amputated?” He turned to address my answer. I looked at him, and replied, “It is indeed, such a bizarre story or event!” “Try me!” chuntered the professor. I proceeded to recount the infamous story itself. “It was on a cold and long night, as I was sleeping in a hovel some twenty or thirty miles away in distance. It was I believe somewhere or sometime, between the hours of midnight and dawn perhaps? I can’t off hand, recall exactly the hour in which the incident occurred. All that I can recall and remember, are the necessary details themselves. As I have mentioned all ready, I was but asleep in the hovel or cave, when all of a sudden, I was awakened by the bizarre and strange grunting noise which apparently, was just but outside of the hovel itself. I was led to believe by the distance of the din, that it’s propinquity or distance, was but just on the outskirts of the entrance of the hovel itself.” “What did you do in that situation, Professor Bunbury?” asked the professor. I responded in the manner in which I knew and that was the truth or least reply, to what I knew of the truth. “There I was worried and concerned. I immediately grabbed my rifle, and waiting for the good intruder to arrive. I must admit and confess, that at the moment in time, I still was not certain of who the intruder was, nor did I know what the intruder look like. Indeed, I was oblivious to the situation that was unfolding and begirding me, at that exact moment. Yes, you can bet that my rifle was hither to me like my right arm was. I waited and waited as the noise increased, and the creature appeared that it was seemingly going to enter the hovel. It appeared, that it had seen a flickering light, which happened to be that of perhaps my lantern or merely the fire itself. Either way, I knew that the creature would soon make the conscious decision to enter the hovel, just as I knew as well, that I would be force to make the conscious decision of what to do next.” I then paused and blimmed a bit for the memory, was still fresh in my mind.

I continued with the story knowing that either way, it was a tough pill to swallow. The haunting memory of that infamous night was but, a chilling experience. “I was faced with the old predicament of either charging and lunging at the creature, with the bullets in my rifle or play a wait and see attitude, with the creature. Hoping perhaps, that the creature, would simply be much too dissuaded and leave the area for good. I made the rational decision to wait, but unfortunately an unfortunate thing would occur unbeknown to me. Just as I was waiting near a nearby wall of the hovel, I then unbeknown to me would accidentally, step on a branch that was laying about. The crackling noise or breaking of the branch, was enough to astir the creature’s curiosity and good interest. I knew that I had to find a way to perhaps hoise or so deceive the creature, but I realised that upon it’s entrance, it would certainly come across my goods and materials not the least as well, myself. I could hear the creature then enter the hovel, and then begin, to enter even more deeper into the marrow of the cave; and that meant in the end, toward where I was situated upon. I found my fingers twitching and thriping to the extent, that to say that I was so attwitered, was a bloody understatement in itself. I had to react in the most untelling manner, and that was instead of just waiting for the creature to find me, I did totally the opposite of that. I with my old riffle at hand dashed forward like knight with a sword, and immediately began to shoot much so forwardly; attempting to kill or at least wound whatever bloody creature it was. I had the dear intentions at first of trying to thwart the creature away, but in the end, I had to do what I had to do, to bloody survive I say!” Professor Kham queried about whether or not, I killed the creature or not. “I supposed that I am led to believe, that you shot the creature and if so then, did you actually do more then just injure the creature? Did you happen by mere chance, kill the creature?” I poignantly said, “I don’t know. It is so true, that I shot the bloody thing, but when I went to investigate it was gone. And all that I was left to find, was the mere specimen of the creature that is all! I do recall one telling thing, and that was the loud and devilish roar of the creature, as it was scurrying and thus scampering away. I heard it blight, as I hit the creature with the bullets and I heard it ache, in the process of flight. Unfortunately, I was not able to see the creature’s full appearance, nor flight neither. But surely as a scientist you would understand my determination and will to find the creature, and to want to bring back a living specimen of it as well!”

Professor Kham, seemed to be a bit sceptical about my true intentions in finding the creature. It did conflict somewhat so, with his Buddhist’s principles. “What’s wrong professor, is there something that I said, that has trouble you so?” He glanced at me and said, “Budda teaches, that we must not be blind in our contumacy or greed, to seek and destroy the many life forms of the earth. But to be spry in the way of finding unity, and peace with others who live in this earth regardless of creed, race, belief, and even breed!” “But surely now Professor Kham, you must admit, that as a scientist and as an archaeologist, it is our duty to set aside our personal beliefs somewhat, and do what we must do, for the advancement of not merely just science but for mankind, and the entire animal kingdom. Let us not forget indeed Darwin’s belief and concept of evolution, though I do have somewhat reservations about it’s good understanding.” I then brought out my microscope and showed him the samples that I had found. “Here look at the fibbers of the hair Professor Kham; for the hairs are between being hispid and villous. There to the hilt, one could detect and see clearly, the evidence of the creature’s age of which, is incredibly old in age. You can concur with me with the thought professor at least, that the creature does exist and therefore, must be studied!” His response was, “Forgive me, but you have a good point!”

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)-Continued

17 January-The morning was spent examining the creature’s hair and flesh under the so keen needful eye of the microscope, along with Professor Kham. “So tell me Professor Kham, what do you see that’s new, in the way of discovery?” I queried. “I must confess Professor Bunbury that the specimen, is quite old!” I made my analysis of the fibber of the creature known and as well, the piece of flesh, “I myself, have come to the conclusion, that it could be even millions of years old in the sense of the good pathology, of the creature. The dear thought of the creature’s actual ancestry and lineage, was one that thicketed the hairs of my brain. As you can see so, the hair is extremely hirsute and quite odd, as well. If one has studied biology, and pathology as I imagine you have dear professor then you will deduce, that the hair without a doubt, is not that of any human’s but instead, that of a primate of some sort!” Professor Kham made the good comment, “Indeed, it does seem to be the case, but there is something so remarkable about this finding of yours, and about the specimen of the creature. There is something which I believe, that you have not taken to account or perhaps seen.” I was slightly bemused and somewhat confused, by his subtle remarks. “What exactly, do you mean by that Professor Kham?” He then told me to come to the microscope and see what he was referring to. “Look real close at the specimen!” When I arrived, I was not able to see under the scope of the microscope, just what exactly was he truly referring to. “I am afraid, that I fail to see just exactly, what you are indeed inferring to Professor Kham?” “Look at the blood?” he said. I did exactly what he instructed me to do. After looking arduously, and so diligently at the specimen, I still did not understand his analysis. “I confess to you Professor Kham, that I have looked at the blood and still, I fail to see what exactly am I to find in the blood sample!” It was then, he pointed it out to me, “The blood cells themselves, if you look real close then you can see how incredibly, despite the cold and frigid weather, the blood cells have thus remained in tact. That is to say, that the cells themselves have even after the cessation of the flow of the needed circulation, remained still the same. Somehow there is, a mechanism in the blood cells, which served truly as a protector for the cells and thwart off any bacteria, that could penetrate inwardly.” And after carefully making another observation. I then realised the good professor’s point. “Good God, I can’t believe this Professor Kham! You know what this means professor?” Professor Kham then nodded his head, “Yes, I do know what this means.” “Good God, not only is this a wonder for biology, anthropology, but all of science for that matter.” Dear Professor Kham, concurred with my analysis. “Yes, this is correct Professor Bunbury. But we must put this in contexts!” I then looked at him and queried, “What exactly do you mean dear professor?” He then began to say in detail, his own insight in this matter. “We must be content with the fact that the creature exist, but we can’t hunt the creature like a wild animal and disrupt, the cycle of life!” Again it seemed, that he was invoking his fervent Buddhist beliefs. I tried to understand his personal beliefs, but what was odd was the fact, that he was an anthropologist and physician. Despite the rather odd bewilderment of that irony, I attempted to enfocus in him, the scientist in him. “My good Professor Kham I must ask, if you believe in that finding the creature is totally, not only contradictory of your faith then why if I may ask, did you become a scientist or doctor?”

He then hesitated, as to reflect somewhat a bit on my question before, he then proceeded to respond to my interesting question. “Well let me say, that you do have a good point there dear Professor Bunbury and I admit, that one who did not understand the Buddhist way, would be led to that conclusion. Yes I do believe in the advancement and stride for science, but it must be for the betterment of the earth and not for selfish, and so greedy reasons and motives!” I somewhat understood his subtle explanation and words. “I think I can safely say, that I believe I understand fully well, what you are inferring to Professor Kham!” I had indeed forsakened, the essence of humanity; and by listening to his touching and benign words, I reinforced my faith as well. I then thought to myself, who was I to impose my western views and above all, ambitions onto a race of people, who would fleer and scoff at the idea of greed and vanity. Indeed the western world, had alot to learn from the Sherpa way of life. Though they were but nomadic and villatic in their society compared to the spry and industrious modern societies of Europe and that of America, there was still one little advantage of this small and quaint Sherpa society and that was, that they had whittled the throng of any recidivous behaviour or mien, of the more superior European. I had fancied to have perhaps, the good Professor Kham joining me on my resuming of the foray. But Professor Kham, would reiterate his previous position to me as before. “I am afraid that I cannot join you; for my work is here with my people, and I must return back to Kathmandu at once!” I assayed one last time, to invoke his anthropologist, and scientific nature. “Come now Professor just imagine, what it would mean if we brought back truly, a living creature. Think what it would do for the world of anthropology!” There was this staid and leath feeling in his eyes, and it appeared for at least for one moment in his eyes, there was a sense of swaying and indecision. But he quickly then quelled any ambition and whim, of joining me on the expedition. “Once again, I must refuse and politely so reject your kind and interesting offer, Professor Bunbury.” I had to swallow my pride and concede, that I was witnessing, an ironic sense of humility and frank humbleness. “It is indeed a pity to not have such a brilliant and such earnest man like you, join me Professor Kham but I respect and admire a man, like you much professor. Surely, I do hope that you thrive and nith in the name of medicine for after all, that is what we as scientists seek the betterment of the world and it’s inhabitants. Is that not so?” He would pose a gentle smile on his face as if somehow, his own words of wisdom had begun to reflect or rub on me. “I see, that you have begun to see the Buddhist way of thought!” We then shook hands as to forget about any minor quarrel or bickering, that could have existed. We decided that it was now getting late, and it was better to retire for the night but not before, he would give me one last piece of advise. “Go home and return with what you have found, and be content what you have found. But do not go on with this, for it would only lead to the arrival of many others thus seeking the creature. And it would led to the destruction of the creature, and perhaps of our way of living as well.” I took Professor Kham’s endearing words to heart, and they were rather poetic and fleeching in one aspect and yet, so haunting and daunting.

Indeed Professor Kham, had a good point when he elaborated about the arrival of many more ambitious men, who after thence learning about my discovery, would seemingly arrive at will and in abundance. His point of the destruction of the simplistic and banausic Sherpa way of living would become an actuality, and certainly that of the creature. I realised that the little change, and progress of the Sherpa way of life due, to their contact with the western world already, was something that the good professor was not to fond nor fancied much. It was quite ironic but yet humble, to see a man much like Professor Kham, a man who was fully educated in the west; and by his attire and way of speaking, was truly a Westerner in essence but despite that all he seemed to be one, who could never abandon his own roots for that matter. Indeed Professor Kham, would have been a featly fere for that matter; but his beliefs and faith, was one that one truly had to learn from. The thought of the others had penetrated deeply on my mind since my arrival but now, since a week or so has elapsed, I have come to the good conclusion, that the fate of Professor Hansen and even that of the pompous Mr. Fuller and his men had been sealed; but the fate of my other compeers, Walters and my mentor Sir Wellington was still unsure and uncertain. I was determined, to at least wait another day in order to see if the others would arrive, and be capable to find this remote thorp like I had done so. The thought of bustling and spry streets of London was but, a thought of aimless hump it seemed. I was so much whelmed by the many fain memories of London, that even the endless noise of horses in widen carriages; and a drunkard spree of wild drinking, and an huckster’s pandling, was but a pence in the bucket. To be frank, I was becoming to miss my noisy and bumptious London. Truly this was no London, but instead a mild and hind hamlet itself. The constant nightmare of the creature, and about my evolution from animal to man, was still haunting and howfing me. I had the urge and desire to write another letter to my dear good friend, and dear fellow colleague, Lord Rutherford. I also decided for the first time ever during this endeavour, to write also a letter, to my former lovely fiancée Martha. It was the very time that I would ever be thus writing a letter to her, since I thought it wiser, to leave any emotional scars or sentiments behind. I had done a pretty efficacious and a bloody good job of concealing my feelings, and thoughts throughout this endeavour, leaving behind all of that emotional gush behind in England, where good Martha was at. Perhaps my actions and concealment of my feelings for her, were cowardly and thewless. Indeed I am no thane, nor a man with extreme worth when it comes to love; but then again, perhaps it was best to be sloven in one’s own behaviour pertaining to this thing much called love.

Who am I to be a connoisseur of love, or the epitome of a man in love or even for that sake, a man who spends his days willowing in fiats and in ambages? What ever smattering of love that I knew, did not make me extremely amative, amatory, to it’s simplistic and so banal definition. I was more inclined to call it amaurotic idiocy, than anything else. If I had reached the pinnacle or spire of this relationship then, I thought that I would at least try to amend for indeed whatever defiency or lack of understanding there was, between I and Martha. Although my ink is running low, and my eyes were but needing a good rest, I still feel the need to write to the both of them one in behalf of my profession, and the other in the behalf, if I should say so, my heart! I knew pretty much well in advanced of what I would say in my letter to Lord Rutherford, but in my letter to Martha, I was completely at a lost to find the proper words to convey to her, about the misfortune of our break-up. I had come to Nepal to find some bield from my tormented heart, but with my work and my drudgery as a scientist, I was rather effective and hiding and concealing, my own pain and hurting. I had still somewhat, had harboured birse, for her decision to choose her profession over me. I suppose that it was erroneous of me to come to believe that she would forsake her own desires, and dreams of being an actress. Perhaps in my haste and the blare of the theatre, I had whirried in my rationalisation. I find myself staid and for a better lack of word less blellum at this very moment, but I must write her this letter, and I shall lay my hopes of perhaps uniting with her once again in fate, and in her hands as well? Professor Kham, has insured me that my letters shall arrive to England; and I shall be so forever grateful to him for that. I can only wonder if the others had arrived, but my heart and soul tell me, that the letters most likely, are back there somewhere; back where the dead bodies of the Sherpas, are laying there in the middle of nowhere. Although I had given my letters to a Sherpa, I was not even certain that he even made it back, to the very first rendez-vous point and village in which we started from, some three weeks or so ago.

-Letter from Professor Bunbury to Lord Rutherford London: 17 January, 1899.

Dear Lord Rutherford, 17 January, 1899

I am writing you this letter to inform you, of my continuing adventure here, in the high mountains of Nepal. I must query my dear friend, whether or not, you have been able to receive my previous two letters; and if not let me then say, that I have been to hell and back, on this one cursed adventure. Why I had nearly lost my life up here, but thankfully you can rest assure that I am doing all right now, and that I am writing to you in a remote and clandestine Sherpa village. I must report to you the news pertaining to Sir Wellington, and my other fellow dear compeers.

Unfortunately I have no news of them, at this present moment. We had split up in groups in the search of the creature, and by doing that, we unfortunately had lost communication with the dear others. I do know that it is rather difficult to understand just exactly what I mean, but let me try to convey to you the situation that was. You see, Professor Walters the American, and dear Sir Wellington and myself; including some locals who were called Sherpas, led us up the high, and steep mountains, which I must confess appear to be rather close to wretched spires, that resemble old Gothic cathedrals. Moving on, we managed to reached the appointed destination; but once we arrived there, we were surprisively so amazed, and astonished, to find another crew or group of foray, already there. The crew were a band of ruffians or brigands it seemed. They were a combination of dear Sherpas, trappers, an Indian, and an African; all lead by a pompous and orotund wealthy Texas hunter by the name of Austin Fuller. The same Austin Fuller, that the bloody London papers so report annually about and the same man, who does his hunting with that bloody Yank Theodore Roosevelt. And he is a good friend of such men as the author Robert Louis Stevenson, and Sir Arthur Connan Doyle.

We reluctantly, were forced to join up with him. It was determined so by Professor Hansen, who was to lead this expedition not only ours, but Mr. Fuller’s as well, that we would split in splitter groups two separate, and individual groups. Group A, was Professor Hansen and Mr. Fuller’s men along with some Sherpas, who accompanied us. Group B involved Professor Walters, I and Sir Wellington and several Sherpa men, as well. Hansen and his group had gotten lost and I was the one to find him, while the others remained back, at the appointed rendez-vous-point in which, Professor Hansen had agreed to meet back in the span of a week or so. After searching diligently for them, I was not able to find them and unfortunately I am much afraid, that they have perished under the harsh, and horrific conditions of the weather. I was so fortunate enough, after almost being in the extremis, to be able to be found and given shelter in a nearby Sherpa village, by the Sherpas themselves.

There are many things still, that I have to say to you; but I am running out of ink, so I shall hold on to my stories, until I reach London again! Your friend, William Bunbury

-Letter from Professor Bunbury, to his ex- fiancée back in England:

17 January, 1899. Dear Martha,

I know it has been almost or nearly several months now, since our hasted break-up, and your departure from London to New York, in the States. I am sure that you are not only indeed astonished and amazed to hear a letter from me not the least to know, that it comes from a far off and distant country in Asia. I would be remiss if I concealed the truth any longer from you, my dear and beloved Martha. I have tried so invainly to block off my thoughts and feelings of you, from the bottom and surface of my desolate heart. I have attempted to thwart off the very dear essence of my heart which I must confess, has been your deeply miss and felt love. Forgive me so, for being so knave and so errant in my hasten judgement. From the bottom of my heart, truly I ask for your forgiveness, and understanding.

I was blind in my own contumacy, and in my own stubborn and recalcitrant male chauvinism. I must confess and profess, that the reason in which I ended the relationship was because I was stubbornly against, your pursuit of the theatre and for your pursuit and love, of the arts as well. Perhaps one can deem me to be fey, and mad for such a frivolous fatuity and stupidity. I pray that you shall not turn a blind eye to my letter, and my dear heartful and sincere words of regret. I do not ask, that you give up your passion and love for the theatre nor do I ask for you to return to me, and be my beloved one. For I have learn, truly the meaning of understanding and comprehension, whilst I have been here in Nepal. I know that you may wonder, why I am writing you from this far away, and so unknown country in Asia. The truth be told, I am here on what could be called candidly so, a wild goose chase for an unknown, and legendary creature who dwells and abode, somewhere high in the mountains of this area and region. I cannot explain, nor even to begin to expound in details all that has happened since my departure from London, and my arrival here in Nepal. I have detailed my daily occurrences and happenings, here in the mountains of Nepal. I have come to know the much more docile and simplistic lifestyle of the people of the area. They have been so extremely generous and gracious to me. They have given me a hospitality, that would pale in comparison to the Duchess of York or the Duke of Wellington, but they are rather humble, and such traditional people. It would be disingenuous if I did not admit to you, that I shall go on with this endeavour, until I can find the creature but yet, the thought of returning with what I must say, can only be so known to the both of us a specimen of the actual creature, is possibly enough.

Dear Martha, I wonder if it is not best to return to England with the specimen, and claim kudos and acclamation for my discovery. Enough of my endeavours, and let me end my letter with the sincerity of my heart. If I am not to return, and if you by chance do not receive this letter whilst I am alive then, please know that my love for you was real; and that I shall always remember the countenance of your heart, as I gaze with a fix and hopeless glance, at your beloved picture which I carry with me always!

Love always, William Bunbury

18 January-Today Professor Kham and I, worked arduously and so diligently, with the histology of the creature. Although the professor, was not favourable to the idea of venturing to find the actual creature he was still such interested, in finding whatever he could in the form of scientific value and worth. At least, that was something in which, he was so willing to contribute and aid in. The thought that perhaps Professor Kham was right when he suggested, that it was perhaps better to return to England, with what I had already found and that was the specimen of the old creature. I had my breakfast already accompanied with my tea, and tea time was arriving again along with what could be called, a triffin of some sort. We were able to determined, that the dear blood of the creature was indeed unique, and one which was fully adaptable with the rigid, and cold conditions of the area. “It appears that the creature despite all of these years, has been able to adapt itself fully, to the harsh and tough conditions of this region. The evolution indeed of this creature is indellible, and impeccable! Why the blood type of the creature is closed to human in fact, my God, do you know what this could mean professor?” I emphatically stated. The good professor’s comments, were but a soothing one to hear, “Yes, this means that there is another blood type, beyond the human blood type of A, B, C, and so on!” Upon hearing the remarkable discovery, that I felt a tinkling sensation that ran from my head to my toes.” “You do agree, that upon looking at the foot, that it does indeed resemble that, of some type of primate.” He stoically with a clear expression on his face replied, “Yes, I must agree and acquiesce with that analogy of yours.” “From your observation and dear opinion, how old do you calculate the age of the foot or so I say, the creature itself?” After making a careful calculation of his own Professor Kham, would then proceed to utter what I had uttered in my own analysis. “From what I can surmise and study from the creature’s hair and flesh, I can only come to the conclusion, that the creature’s breed, must be at least millions of years ago. I have tested the fibbers and tissues, along with blood type of mammals, reptiles, etc, and I can tell you in the case of primates or apes that I have never seen before, the blood type that this creature possesses!” “Good God! Do you know what that means professor, it’s means that somewhere up there in the mountains about is a primate that somehow, has not only escape the clutches of man, but has so evolved in such a surreptitious manner and form, that science has failed to catch wind of.” I then cured, “Good God, the creature’s evolution is incredible. Don’t you know what this ultimately means beyond just the stated?” Professor Kham was unsure and not exactly keen, to what I was implying. “I am afraid, that I don’t quite follow you Professor Bunbury. Perhaps, you could elaborate on that.” I brought to the forefront, the one lingering, and nagging projection of thought that all scientists whether they be anthropologists, biologists, archaeologists, doctors, or even mere professors, Darwin’s theory of evolution. “Have you not forgotten, the essential one concept of life itself; one which we as scholarly students at the university, have been taught so to learn and analyse, Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution?”

The mere invocation of the name of Charles Darwin, was enough to spatter a mere curiosity in the mind of Professor Kham. He was truly aware of Darwin’s theory of evolution. “Yes your right, one would come to believe, that Darwin’s theory of evolution would apply here; but there is still something which baffles me a bit!” I then inquired about his bemusement, “What exactly confuses you, Professor Kham?” He then said, “Have you not thought about the fundamental issue or premise of evolution itself?” I was now even more uncertain of what exactly he was trying to convey to me. “I am afraid, that I still do not quite follow you, my dear professor!”

He then told me to come outside with me, and that only there, could he perhaps explain or define his concept and point, and so I followed him. Thankfully the weather outside, at least for the last couple of days, was favourable and propitious. For I had been accustomed to see even an alpenglow whilom. Once inside, Professor Kham would then with his own hands, begin to dig up from the surface of the snow, what appeared to be a plant or a shrub. He then tore a piece from the plant, and then showed it to me. “There, there is your answer!” I then looked at it and noticed that it was dead already. It was then that I realised just exactly what he was either trying to convey, or make me see. “Clearly, I see your point Professor Kham. With life, there is death!” He then went on to say, “Yes indeed with life, there must be death but my friend, it must be truly a natural process for if not then, the cycle of life and death will be altered dramatically!” I then proceeded to ask him, about what did he mean by, “The cycle of life and death, will be altered dramatically?” “What do you mean by that last statement of yours, professor?” He expounded on his concept. “What I am implying here Professor Bunbury is, that if we seek and kill the creature or even capture and take a creature away from it’s habitance then, you will disrupt the evolution of this creature and the geology of it, as well. But in the end, it would only disrupt the process of life itself, on this earth!” In some strange and peculiar manner, I fully understood Professor Kham’s concept. No it wasn’t any diatribe or, was it neither just a Buddhist way of thought. Instead to me, it appeared more and more to be, a humane way of inner thought. “I must admit my dear professor, that you speak with such an eloquence and candour, that is rather equivalent to the melody of a string of a harp. But is it not our task as scientist to investigate and seek the unknown and the unseen, for the advancement of not only humanity, but for the advancement of earth itself? Have you indeed not like I, taken the solemn pledge to apply our studious, and intellectual minds to the obligation of their applications?” I candidly asked. The reaction of Professor Kham was rather uncommon; for I thought that, he would reciprocate my question by injecting another round of philosophy, or theology. But instead, he would reply to my question, with his acceptance of my analogy. “Yes, your point is well taken, and well spoken, I find your words as well to be quite elucidated, and therefore I would be amiss, if I did acknowledge that your words are truthful and your point, is truly correct.” There were two things that despite our differences in beliefs and ideas, we at least had in common. The two things that we had in common were first, we were both dear scientists and both despite our backgrounds, were fully educated back home in England. Secondly, we were both sincere and straight-forward men and men, who lived upon their own principles and beliefs. We then went back inside, and decided to continue with our research. It was while we were studying some of the fibbers of the creature’s flesh, that a certain familiar voice would then became much audible to my ears. “I can’t believe how much in the way of progress we have found, and that there are many things still to be solved about this creature, why it’s bloody remarkable if I truly should say so! Why even Sir Wellington would say if he was here so, “By Jove, I think we have found a pot of a leprechaun’s gold here?” It was then, that I heard the familiar and bustling voice of my dear mentor Sir Wellington say, those actual words which I had satirically uttered. “By Jove, I think we have found a pot of a leprechaun’s gold here!” Just hearing the familiar voice, I then quickly turned around and found myself standing in the presence, of my devout mentor, Sir Wellington. My cheeks blushed and the rush of blood circulated, from my toes, “By Jove, it’s good to you see again Sir Wellington! I didn’t think I would ever, see you again my lord!”

We then embraced, “Egad, it is good to you see again as well old boy! I didn’t know what happened to you my boy. I thought the worse and thought, that you had perished so! We did look thoroughly for you all around the area but yet, we could not find, not even a trace of you at all!” “How long have you been here? Why you don’t look, as if you just came into the village. Your face and ears, do not look that gaunt or ashen-pale at all. I must say although, you do seem a wee bit wan, is that not so?” I asked. Sir Wellington, would have nothing of it for I had forgotten so, about his stubbornness and hauteur. “By Jove, that’s nonsense and rubbish my boy! I am indeed perfectly all right, except for that bloody cold, that I have received up there, in those mountains. Now about your question, I believe we arrived about five days ago and since then, we have been working on getting new materials and supplies and of course, resting for the continuation of this expedition.” I then queried about the status of Walters. “Do tell me Sir Wellington, I am indeed assuming that Professor Walters made it back with you?” Sir Wellington chuckled a bit, “Why of course my boy thankfully we were all able to find this village intact and in one piece, although with severe blusters and numbness of our fingers, and toes. But nevertheless aside from that, we were all about to arrive at this village without any major suffrage at all! As far as dear Professor Walters is concerned, why he is working on gathering up more supplies, and men as well.” “If you say that you and Walters arrived here at the village about five days ago then, how in the blooding hell can it be, that you weren’t able to notice my presence here, in the thorp my lord?” “The truth be told so my boy, we were not made aware of your presence, until Professor Kham told us so. Why you must understand that since neither I or Professor Walters, did not know how to speak the local’s tongue, why it was pretty blooding hard to communicate let alone, be aware of the news of your presence. Come now my boy, it is not exactly London where one can read the Westminster Gazette, or the Times for that matter during a stroll, in the Trafalgar Square my boy!” Sir Wellington then proceeded to explain to me in details, about what exactly happened back there, whilst I was gone. I unfortunately had to tell him, that I was not able to find nor locate any sign of Hansen and the others. He put his fingers upon his chin and then said, “It’s such a sad thing about Hansen, and the others. Why I did not care much so, for the fustian Texan; but Hansen indeed was a good man, and a good fellow archaeologist. He shall dearly be miss my boy!” “Yes indeed so!” I professed. It was then, that a stranger then entered the cabin. It was no another then, the good Earl of Kensington himself Lord Alfred Whitmore. “My dear Lord Whitmore it is good that you have arrived!” He turned to me, and introduced me to the much so honourable, Earl of Kensington himself. “Professor Bunbury, it is my utmost pleasure, that I do present to you so, the Earl of Kensington himself and the cousin of our beloved Queen Victoria, Lord Alfred Whitmore, the third!”

He then proceeded to introduce him to me, “My Lord, I present you, my dear and beloved heir to science, Professor William Bunbury, son of the well-known Sir Walter Bunbury former member of the House of Parliament itself! “Indeed it is an honour, and great pleasure to be much bestowed with this great opportunity, to meet you in person my lord.” Lord Whitmore, was a reputable hunter himself, and from what I had read in the newspapers, he had quite a collection of trophies all around his home. Upon seeing him so, I hearkened back to another familiar hunter that I had met along the way, the Great Austin Fuller himself the Southerner. Unlike Mr. Fuller, Lord Whitmore himself was cladded in much more of an English attire what one would call, so rather dilatory. He wore a Scottish glengary, and his shoes were elegant British dark, and black boots. Despite the weather here he wore like Mr. Fuller, breeches which to me made little sense.

He wore an elegant white shirt underneath under his lightly fur coat, which was made out of fox skin. I dare not utter my concern for the earl’s health, for it would mean questioning so his superiority I fear. Lord Whitmore then, commented “Yes Professor Bunbury, I have heard about your work in science, and your teachings at Oxford and Cambridge. Indeed, it is an honour to at last meet the son of the distinguished, Sir Edward Bunbury!” “Believe me my lord, the honour is all mine!” I did not know what to make out of the Earl of Kensington himself, for he was a very mighty austere and strict chap. Seeing from his expressions and gestures, he was rather not so much stiff in morality and virtue but instead, he seemed to be rather much more listless, and very orsawle in manner of expression. “Lord Whitmore, was the one who found I, and dear Professor Walters you see, Lord Whitmore is also on an expedition much like us, in search of the great and legendary creature called the yeti. He was the one who was able to lead, and guide us to this village for it seems that I owe my life to Lord Whitmore, for being able to bring us to safety.” With an orotund smirk on his face, Lord Whitmore then uttered, “Please, don’t be so modest Sir Wellington, for I was just doing what any proper Englishman would have done!” Sir Wellington then said, “I have told Lord Whitmore about everything in the way of our expedition, and he has told me, that he is quite anxious to join us on our foray Professor Bunbury.” “My my my,” I told myself, speaking only in the silence of my mind. If I had to deal with the hauteur and vanity of Mr. Fuller, now I would have to deal with another egotistical, egocentric, and indeed, an addle-patted madman. Though I preferred the elegant presence of the Earl of Kensington over Mr. Fuller, I fear that they are both the same, in their madness to find and capture the creature as a trophy, more than as a discovery of science. Perhaps I was thick-witted in saying that for after all how different was I than them, when I too sought to capture the creature although be it for the sake of science, and a more humane principle. I thought next, for the sake of Sir Wellington, I would simulate interest in our joint-adventure. “Why by all means my lord, it shall be indeed an honour!” At this time, there were doubts and qualms, about continuing with the foray at least, my participation in it. I had glinted and cudgelled hard in my mind, about what exactly Professor Kham, had mentioned to me before just last night. Was Professor Kham right when he suggested, that it was better to return to England with what I had already clearly discovered? More importantly, after facing near death, to return back to England alive and not dead? For the possibility of staying on, and continuing with the search for the creature, could ultimately lead, to my death in the end. The more and more that I began to ponder that thought in my mind, the more that it made sense to me, to reluctantly agree and thig with Professor Kham’s suggestion. After all, there was no way in disputing the originality, and the authenticity of the creature’s hair. I was determined to abandon the search, and return back to England with what I had already discovered and I was willing to let my feelings, and thoughts on the matter known to Sir Wellington, and the others. Sir Wellington then asked me about what I had discovered or found. “So tell me old boy, what was this great discovery that you were much rambling about whilst I was listening?” I then directed Sir Wellington to my microscope. “Come here Sir Wellington, I do believe you will be indeed fascinated so, by our recent discovery!” Sir Wellington and Lord Whitmore then, eagerly followed. I then attempted to introduce Professor Kham to both Sir Wellington and Lord Whitmore, but they had already met before.

Infact it was Professor Kham, who told Lord Whitmore about the sight of the village and the fact, that their were men who were on this expedition. When I queried Professor Kham, he simply stated, “Why there are many men who come and go, and to the Sherpa, who walks and plods through the snow and ice, he knows every stranger who comes into our mountains.” Indeed no one could so dispute Professor Kham’s claim, when it was not everyday that a local Sherpa, would see a Westerner in his life daily. After analysing and observing carefully, and with a deep intensity at the specimen under the microscope, Sir Wellington then made the statements. “Egad, it is incredible indeed, I can’t believe what I am looking at. Why the blood type is unique, and the fibbers of the hair, are rather so foreign! Why I have never seen such a discovery like this. It seems to belong to a primate of some sort.” I then chuntered, “Indeed it did belong to a primate, but one which can only belong to the yeti himself!” Sir Wellington apparently had no problem in hearing what I had professed. His curiosity and intrigue, billowed even more in it’s old capacity. “What exactly do you mean by those words, Professor Bunbury? I am afraid, that I don’t fully understand!” He paused then pondered, “Good God my boy!” Indeed, there was sudden amazement, and astonishment in the eyes of both Sir Wellington, and that of Lord Whitmore. The mere idea of the creature’s origins, was enough to yauld the even more interest, and intrigue with the good creature. I could see the twinkle and the glare in both of their eyes, as they appeared to be, two old chaps, who were more like Tweedledum and Tweedledee. By all means it appeared that even a lament, would twig what laid infront in a cubicle. “Great Scot! I can’t believe what I am bloody looking at my boy! Why it’s remarkable, and indelible indeed!” After making a much more clearer, and efficacious observation, with his magnifying glass he determined, “Good God, this is more beautiful to look at, than a magnolia my boy! It is primitive and cabalistic in nature, and the fibbers of the hair and the structure of the flesh, appear to be primate. Infact the flesh structure appears to be similar to an African ape, but much different, and somewhat much more human than ape after a better look.

By Jove, do you realise my boy what this all means?” Sir Wellington’s mind, was much more sophisticated then mine at times. And he appeared to be much more intertwined and enmeshed, in his own thinking world. “I am afraid that it is now I, who don’t understand what you are saying Sir Wellington!” Sir Wellington’s next words, would bring a chill and a daunting tone and theory, that would thus resonate in all of our minds especially mine. “By Jove my boy! Why it is so simple, this creature whatever you want to call it, could be in all actuality my boy, an actual originator and ancestor of the modern man. And if that be so, I dare not say that we however sophisticated and civilised we are, are a product or an offspring, of this monstrosity!”

Indeed Sir Wellington’s egregious, and stunning remarks vibrating through the wretched confinements of all of our ears. It seemed to draw out a very a huff and a scoff, in the good Lord Whitmore himself. Why it almost appeared, that he was looking at Sir Wellington, as if he was a bloody scamp. The mere uttering or suggesting of man’s derivation, and origin from some rather primitive ape, was enough to give him a heavy throe and thud to his ego, and his heart. “Good God Sir Wellington, are you aware of what you are saying. May God have forgiveness, for your soul! Why it is bloody ludicrous, and ridiculous to make such an egregious remark like that. To acquaint, and accredit man’s divine origins and background to I dare not say, to some bloody monkeys who hoof about so in four legs, like an animal is bloody mad. Why, you must be off your rocker my boy! How do you expect me to accept such a blatant remark like that my lord? Even a mind of your stature and prestige, should not utter disparaging and absurd remarks like that!” Sir Wellington was not to back down, not even to the Earl of Kensington. “Perhaps your right in your diatribe my lord. But you must understand my standing, and position on this matter. I am a scientist my lord, and it would be disingenuous of me, to turn a blind eye to my scientific and human intellect. Why it would negate my superior intelligence and above all, my creativity and responsibility to the very own belief, that I swore to uphold as a scientist that is to science itself!” Lord Whitmore, broke his cane in two, and said outloud, “Rubbish, complete rubbish I say! I can understand your position on this matter, but never in a million years will I ever thig or concede that my forefathers, the Great Whitmores of England, derived from a bloody monkey my lord!” “Perhaps we are the whelp, and not the bloody creature my lord.” Sir Wellington then uttered. I then sought it fitting to interject into the conversation; for I feared that if not, it would lead into perhaps more, than a verbal dispute. “Come now gentlemen, are we not Englishman? We are not blatant holligans nor ruffians here! I am sure we can come to an agreement of sort. Look, perhaps it is wiser to hold off to any theory of man’s own logical origin to a later time; and concede that it is better to not yerk each other with such fatuitys, and frivolities. Amour propre, let us concentrate on the research of this creature!” It appeared that my soothing words of reason, seemed to penetrate the marrow of both of their understanding, at least for the time being. They both then shook hands and made amends. “Do forgive me my lord, I do hope that we can put our differences behind and concentrate more, on what is ultimately so, the most important thing; and that is, finding the wretched creature!” It appeared to bring out a twinkle and a glare, in the eyes of Lord Whitmore. “I suppose that good Professor Bunbury, does have a point there and you also, my dear Sir Wellington. After all, it is true what you say about the creature it is after all, the only reason why I or anyone of us came here to this area!” Professor Kham politely thence dismissed himself, but not before Sir Wellington, would ask of his own personal opinion concerning, my discovery. “Do wait a minute Professor Kham if I can impose on you a simple, and banal question?” Professor Kham, would simply reply, “Why of course granted, that I have an answer to your question!” He then waited for a moment as if to make sure, that what he was going to say next, would be heard by all of us. “I tell you, that my opinion means very little in this case, but if you must know I tell you that, the creature that is dwelling somewhere up there in the mountains could be called an ape or a good primate. But someone who is an anthropologist, and an expert of orograhphy as well, call tell so from looking at this mangled flesh of the creature it is a primate. Whether or not it is an ancestor of man, is something entirely different to ponder!”

He hawed for a moment before he then said, “But this I will say, whatever is up there in the mountains, is something that none of you, would like to meet face to face!” Lord Whitmore then interjected by asking, “Are you implying that you have actually yourself come face to face with the creature himself Professor Kham?” Despite the rank and nobility of even the presence of the Earl of Kensington himself, Professor Kham was a man, who spoke with utmost frankness and sincerity. “With all due respects my lord, I must confess, that I myself have not come face to face as you say, with the creature itself. But, I have heard many stories and tales, about the good creature from those of my people; and I tell you my lord, that a Sherpa is not one to lie or to fib!” Lord Whitmore made the comments, “With all due respects to you my dear Professor Kham, I shall take my own risk and share my own personal experience, with the beast!” Professor Kham then excused himself, and left; whilst we proceeded for the meantime, to put away our research on the mangled flesh, and discuss the matter of the search for the creature and that meant indeed, renewing the expedition. And that meant, incorporating the likes of the dear Earl of Kensington himself, Lord Alfred Whitmore. I did not know fully well how the bloody creature, was to be found. The only thing that I knew was, that I had a specimen of the creature already. In reality, I did not think nor fathom the thought that even one thrum of fibber of hair, could cause truly an uproar as it did between my dear mentor Sir Wellington, and the ever so much honourable, Lord Whitmore.

9:30 p.m.-We spent the rest of the day talking and gathering supplies, I was able to see Walters again and was indeed fain, and glad to see him again. It was good to see they both Walters, and Sir Wellington, had been able to recover both. Walters was a man roughly of my age, but the gracious Sir Wellington was not, he was an old man, who despite his vigorous stature and heart, was a man who’s old age was catching up on him. He was no gaffer or an old shoe. He was still young enough to walk, and do many activities that any younger man could do or effectuate. But to continue to climb and trek through the high altitude and rough terrain of the landscape of the mountains, was rather indelible to conceive and concede him doing. Indeed, the thought of at last finding a shrew of evidence of the actual living creature was, becoming an obsession and an urge for others; including the most moderate of them all, Walters. How so unique it was to have three anxious and eager men, or participants in the hunt. Though they were not Roman gladiators nor Greek warriors going off in battle, they all had the conviction and look of a madman, gone astray. Truly, it was not hard to describe nor put in actual words, what were the expressions on the visages of the others. There on one side of me, was the pompous Earl of Kensington himself Lord Whitmore, who’s model and slogan was that in Latin, “Veni, vidi, vici!” On the other side of me, was Professor Walters, who despite being a rather bumptious American, he was steaming at the opportunity to be like his childhood hero Huckleberry Finn. And next to Lord Whitmore was my good and fellow mentor Sir Wellington himself, who by examining his mien and indeed his behaviour, he was a spitting image, of Professor Van Helsing in Stoker’s Dracula. Much like Professor Van Helsing, he was always a busy-body, and a connoisseur as well of the most strange and bizarre theories and hypothesises. We had a toast; for if the weather was to be fair then, it was determined that the search for the creature would once again, commenced. I could see truly, the glee and feeze in the eyes of the others, but the question in my nagging mind, was would I be joining them tomorrow or not?

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

18 January-Another much more tame and mild morning. It appears that the day shall be much propitious, and favourable for us. Today we are to venture back, into the depth of the mountains again. Our wait has been sufficient and ample time, for us to have recovered from our dear pains, and physical afflictions. All the equipment, supplies and goods, have been all gathered up, and prepared for the journey. This time, both Fuller and I, were prepared to find the creature and not return back to civilisation, until the creature was so apprehended. Although in essence, we both wanted so badly to apprehend the beast, our views on what to do with the creature once it was captured, were still miles apart. I was searching to capture and apprehend the creature, in the name of science; and as for Fuller, he was looking to capture and apprehend the creature, in the name of sport. Either way in essence the truth be told in the end, we weren’t much different in nature for in the end we wanted the creature to be trophied, and pranced around. Thus the dear thought of Fuller’s need to have the creature as a trophy, was not that vastly different than mine. For even if mine was much more humane and scientific, it was still despite the fact, it would be pranced before a museum. For it would still be utilised in the same manner as a freak show, as mere entertainment and spectacle. Perhaps my madness to find the creature, was just as revolting as Fuller’s own madness, to find the creature as well!

12: 18 p.m.-We left the Sherpa village but not before thanking of course the locals, and being able to recruit some more men, by enticing them with western products. Western money here, was of no usage to a Sherpa after all, they were mostly nomadic, and much backward people. We thought it fit, to stay at our present course and not move ahead any more. It was clearer to both I and Fuller, that the creature or creatures were still in this vicinity; and that it was a chance, that this was the best place in which we could truly, find and locate the creature or at least one of them, and apprehend one in the end. I knew that sooner or later I would have to deal with Fuller upon finding a yeti, and that in itself, would be the most difficult and arduous challenge, that laid before me in this journey. But for now any wrangles or disputes, that I would have with Fuller about the yeti would have to at least, be postponed until that moment would exactly arrive itself. We had the fortunate of having our compasses, and new Sherpa guides to lead us forward in this endeavour. Fortunately for us we knew where to go, and where to find shelter be it the Sherpa village or the hovel that we last left behind while we were on our search, for the creature. This time on this foray it would be Fuller, and his remaining companion Toot the Cree Indian, and several of the local Sherpa men and of course myself, who would go off and venture into the daunting and menacing Himalayas mountains themselves. Without a doubt this time, we knew where to find the creature, and we were fully prepared. It was confirmed to us by our local Sherpa guides, that the place in which we were last in, was the place in which the creature or the creatures themselves, were mostly spotted at by the locals. I realised, that the only real people who knew more about the yeti than a scientist, were the damn Sherpas themselves. After all, they were the original inhabitants of this cursed place. So, if one could not depend or confide in them then, who else could one have such meaningful and deep trust in them? I do fear that the dreary weather shall not be that kind and gentle to us much longer. It appears that perhaps tomorrow or the following day, the torment of the weather will return? At least, I have the comfort of indeed knowing that there is a village nearby, our destined route.

We began to have a conversation along the way, Fuller and myself. Though intellectually we were distant and far off in nature, we at least had the one thing in common, human greed and our determination to find the creature. Fuller was more and more doing what I had dreaded him to do, suspect my thoughts and was becoming more and more like me in thought, and I was so becoming more and more like him, in thought as well. He did not truly indeed, comprehend me in terminology or in the nature of science itself; but he did come to realise and understand so, the most civilise characteristic and trait about a human and that was, his behaviour. I knew truly that I was slowly reducing and steeping myself, to my most uncivilised nature of my own behaviour; destructive thoughts. “Why you seem to be a happy, and content now Danishman. If I was but a fibbing I could swear, I can see in your eyes that darn same twinkle, and that devilish stare of the darn devil himself!” It brought out a chuckle and an abrupt laughter in the souls of all of us, all except myself. And I let be known to Fuller, “You have very bad taste of words to use Mr. Fuller. I recommend, that you keep your compliments to yourself! Or at least to someone who is willing to hear them!” It appeared to bring out some anger or birse in the eyes of Fuller, perhaps he did not find it amusing anymore, to be under my authority. “What that’s mighty darn brave of you to say my Danishman, Why I reckon, I own you an apology sir!” He then proceeded to spit on my face, and laugh about it. I spitted back on his face. He punched me in the face, and left me on the ground, “You know, I’ve been a wanting to do but just that, even since you started to yap about being in control. Now I reckon, that shall serve you a lesson!” I then rose to my feet, and seemed submissive, “Well, I suppose you have a point!” I then proceeded to punch him on the face, knocking him to the ground where then, he rose to his feet in anger, “Why you son of a bitch! I’ll get you for this! I am a going to skin your hide, until I find bone there! Why, it would be like skinning a rattler!” I then said, “Look I well not take any disorderly conduct even from you, and if you want to go on your merry way without me and the Sherpa’s who I had employed then, please do not let me stop you!” Just as Fuller was about to reply, there was then a loud and stentorian roar, that could be quite heard from even miles away. Without a doubt, the loud roar that could be heard, was definitely the eerie and daunting sound of the yeti. Indeed with the altitude of the mountain, the roar could be heard echoing and much vibrating, like a needle of a phonograph. “Why that sounds like that darn varmint roaring! Why it sounds like a lion’s roar!” I did realise, that the creature was somewhere perhaps around our vicinity. It seemed that indeed, that the creature’s roar, seemed to unite the fervour and passion in the eyes of both Fuller and myself. At that moment so, whatever animosity or bickering that was evident between Fuller and myself, ceased to exist.

“Look Mr. Fuller whatever dispute or disliking that we have for each other, must be put off and forgotten, if we are to find the creature. Look you know very well, that you need my help; and I must confess, that at the same token I need your help and assistance as well!” I knew that I could rationalise with him on that manner. Whatever deep hatred, or argument that the both of us could have with each other, was easily forgotten when the thought of finding, and locating the creature, was the primary connection and bond that the both of us had, which binded us together. Fuller’s rage and fury, subsided and quickly turned and became into agreement, and compliance. Although he appeared extremely reluctant at first he at last acquiesced, sensing that the most rational and sensible thing to do, was to stay together. Perhaps deep down in his mind, I could feel that he himself had thought it much wiser and prudent, to have me by his side at least, for the moment.

“I reckon you’ve got a good point there Danishman, I reckon that we best be on each other’s side then, to be enemies for now!” He was quite emphatic when he said, “For now!” It almost seemed and insinuated to me quite clearly, that he wasn’t too fond of teaming up with me still; but I felt that the greed and madness that we both shared, was identical and similar to bind and bond us together in this one critical endeavour. Instead of continuing, with any harbouring resentment toward each other we concentrated more importantly, on the matter at hand. Which was after all the reason in which, the both of us were out here in this seeming wasteland of snow and ice. “Come now Mr. Fuller, listen you heard the creature like I heard the creature, let us then forget this incident and concentrate more, on what we both came here to do and that is to find that damn creature and to capture it! Is that not what you want also?” His face appeared to swell up in glee, and be bolted by the prospect of glory. There was this clear cunning, and sick grin on the face of Fuller for his expression told it all, it was the expression of a madman. “I reckon so Danishman! I reckon, that there is no harm in having a little tousle here and there for my daddy used to say, that it does a good service to one. I reckon that be so!” How strange it was for the both of us to then shake hands, and forget the heated dispute, that had happened just a moment ago, between the both of us. I had gotten the feeling as I stared into his eyes, and felt his firm shake so, that he would have as he saids, “Skin me alive!” That I do not doubt, nor do I dare to see neither. We decided that the clamour, was coming directly from the north-eastern direction in which, we were at. “I believe that the creature’s roar, was coming in that direction up ahead Mr. Fuller!”

We indeed, proceeded to head toward that vicinity and area, which was not that far off from our previous last location. Once we were able to arrive at the vicinity, we then discovered, that the creature was nowhere to be found or located. “Darn it! It seems that the darn critter, is gone my Danishman!” Fuller replied. Immediately Fuller had the Cree, seek out any vestige of the creature hoping, for any visible tracks of the creature’s whereabouts. I in the meantime tried to communicate much so effectively with the Sherpas hoping, that they could relay any such important information that could help us find, the yeti itself. Unfortunately for me, the Sherpas, spoke very limited English; but I was able to understand them, and I was fortunate enough to know a necessary amount of the Sherpa language in order, to communicate with them. It was indeed unfortunate that I did not have Sherab with me; for he was truly a good and dependable guide. From what I was able to gather up from the Sherpas, the creature had indeed been here. The scent was still fresh and active, and Toot the Cree, was able to concur and discover the same traces of evidence. There were tracks of blood found, with the footprints of the creature. “Well Toot, what did you find boy?” Fuller asked. The Cree replied. “Blood, is it a good sign!” Fuller asked him, “What do you mean Toot?” The Indian who was near the blood, replied to Fuller, “It means that the creature is dying so like a wild animal, needs to find shelter, but there is a danger with that!” I interjected, “What do you mean there is danger?” The Cree then, glanced at me and uttered, “It means that the creature has the spirit of the wolf in him, and the soul of the buffalo!” Once again speaking in riddles and conundrums was the Cree. And once again, I was forced to ask good Mr. Fuller, what exactly was his trying to say. Fuller would only smile. He had the look of one who knew, that he was close to finding his prey. “What Toot is trying to say Danishman is that the darn varmint, is not running yellow-belly. In your odd lingo it means much I reckon, but desperate. And any hunter knows fully well that the taste of blood is the sign, of a wild and truly desperate varmint!”

I began to understand somewhat Fuller’s analogy, and understood the premise as well of his interpretation between hunter and prey but the looming, and lingering question on my mind at the time was if this was so then, where could the creature be at then? If an animal was indeed wounded and bleeding perhaps profusely and profoundly then, he would not be able to get far at least, that was what tended to be the case in these sort of predicaments and situations. I thence made the inquiry about where exactly did, Fuller believe that the ailing creature could have gone to. Fuller’s response, was one rather ambiguous and subtle. “I reckon, that the creature can’t a have gotten far; bet you the creature is near the vicinity!” He instructed the Cree to determine, in which was the best way or direction to head to. I in the other hand, attempted to counsel with the Sherpas, about what was their opinion. Unfortunately neither the Sherpas or the Cree, could thus determine exactly, where the creature had fled to. The problem was, that the mountains were so unpredictable and the turrain and area that laid around us, was rather turbulent and so rough. If there was even one small consolation for us was the fact, that the ailing and wounded creature, had to be nearby. And the thought of that did indeed, titillate and inurgorate us to continue with the expedition, in a much more efficacious and effective manner. This time, we were to use our heads much more, and we had fortunately enough, had devised a plan to use the only problem was, were we to put it into action as we had agreed to? I had to convince Fuller, to actually concord and comply in accordance and compliance with my brilliant plan. I had to convinced Fuller about tackling the creature with an effective strategy and method. “I reckon, that we best set our plan to effect Danishman. I do hope for your sake, that it works for I fear to think of another failure. For I myself, I do not take kind in failing; especially to a creature who though is illusive, he is so inferior to a man such like myself, the Great Austin Fuller!” At this point in time I was not concerned, with Fuller’s ego and vanity. I was much more concerned and interested, with his interest and conviction in finding the creature. So I had to at least simulate with him, about my spurious and false admiration, for his dear grandiose persona. “Why of course my plan will work and in the end, you will have your yeti. But for now, we must do things according to the plan we agreed on. We have no other choice here Mr. Fuller, but to think for if not, the creature will out think us!” He cynically said, “Are you saying, that the darn varmint is a smarter than us, Danishman?” I thought I would boast his ego but at the same time, trying to make him see the point of view of a scientist and the aspect of the scientific aperçu, also. “Why of course Mr. Fuller, your point and argument is well taken and I am not insinuating, neither am I suggesting that the good creature is much more sophisticated, or intelligent than us. I am suggesting, that since we have been looking and searching for the creature and have not been able to find the creature then, it must be point out, that he has been able to allude and evade our search and quest for him!” At first, I wasn’t really certain that Fuller fully understood and more importantly, corroborated and acquiesced with the theory and analogy; but after a matter of a couple of seconds he then, came to the conclusion that it was best to be wiser and prudent in the end and more deft and cautious in our comportment and manner, in dealing with the creature. “I do reckon, despite that lingo of yours mind me saying it is rather boring, and it’s something which I believe has a good chance of working Danishman!” After several minutes passed by, we headed for the last hovel in which we were in previously. Our plan was to use that hovel, as our rendez-vous place from now on. After locating the hovel, we were then to implement our plan.

2:16 p.m.-Were able to locate and find our previous hovel. This time, we were better prepared and we were ready for the creature. We had come to know of his savagery and feralness, just as we had come to know about it’s unpredictability. “Now that we have the necessary goods and supplies, and our much more better prepared than we were before on our prior incursion, I tell you that we will truly find the creature Mr. Fuller!” Fuller’s reaction was to be expected, “I do hope so, for the sake of the both of us!” It was determined in our plan that I devised, and Fuller consented and agreed, that we would change our tactics, and strategy in attempting to trap and apprehend the creature. Our plan consisted indeed of a different tactic and approach; one which dealt with outsmarting the creature, simply by adapting ourselves so, to the level of the creature. Gone were the sundry amount of snares. Only a few would be used this time, in a much more efficacious manner. But instead of leaving them in the open where, they could be so easily seen or spotted by the creature the limited ones that were to be used, would be used in a much more wiser manner. This time the snares, would be concealed and penumbral from the sight or view of the creature itself. We had changed our approach of being aggressive and so blatant, about our search to find the creature instead of that I decided, that it was best to surprise the creature; and to be submissive, in our nature of pursuit.

Although it was tremendously hard and difficult for myself to convince the Great Austin Fuller, it was achieved in the end only because, I had reasoned and fully explained to him, that it was to our benefit to change our tactics, and strategy and plainly put, his tactic failed to achieve or effectuate any gained result. To put it in lament and simplistic terms, I had to steep to the dear primitive level of thinking that Fuller could understand and that was by reminding him, about the need to find the creature. I had also decided in this plan, that no longer were we to be separated and strung from one side to the other side in men, though we had the capacity and men to fully achieve such a thing, it was not prudent and it was not effective planning. For, the mere fact that we had lost valuable men, including all but except the Indian, was enough so to make Fuller see, the end of the light. Instead our tactic would involve, joint venture and joint grouping. No longer would we work in pairs or be separated. For this time we would instead, work as a unit; and as a whole group or team of eager men. Also I had determined, that at least our hours in spending in searching for the creature would be somewhat limited and bridled, to only the hours of daylight. And not so, as Fuller had recently indulged himself in having us do which was in itself, searching for the creature even, during the hours of the night. It almost appeared to make me authoritative and controlling, over Fuller and the situation in itself; but that was what after all Fuller had agreed to, when we first were introduced, to each other that night that we caught eye to eye, and stood toe to toe with each other. I had never seen such an audacious, and bold fellow. A man of his integrity as he states was only to me, a man with little reasoning and practicality; not to mention the least of his qualities, was his wretched stubbornness and stupidity. I do believe that a man such as Fuller, are born to kill and are born with the killer instinct of a madman. I do fear, that he would not hesitate to kill me, and even a man like Fuller would not hesitate to leave me behind to rot in the cold, and frigid snow and ice. His heart was as phlegmatic as a soldier, and his mind was as philanthropic as a madman. Truly, he was gutless and so cruel in his ways of approaching the hunt, for the creature. Deep down this man, had no sense of pity for any poor innocent soul. He was like a heartless man, who sought pleasure, in the discomfort of others.

But, if those were the only respectable qualities that he had then, they were so sufficient enough for me to say, that they were the only good, and admirable traits about him. Perhaps I could have chosen or preferred, any such man to be paired up with me on this expedition. But none could compare to the stature and the reputation as this vain man. I had considered and so thought of myself as an extremely haughty and knurled man, but the truth be told in that manner and in that aspect, I surely paled to the comparison of Fuller. I suppose it was harder for him just as it was for me, to deal with each other’s blatant ego and egotism. Our tactic had changed, and had been converted and altered from a predominant aggressive, and somewhat reckless thurl or campaign, into one which was much more thoughtout, and much more pensive in thought. “Are you completely sure, that this plan of yours will a work Danishman?” I paused for a momentarily pause, as if to stare into his eyes as to demonstrate the firmness of my conviction. “Indeed, why of course so Mr. Fuller! I strongly believe that our plan will work, but if it is to succeed and we are ultimately to be victorious in the end here Mr. Fuller then, we must take these measures so cautiously but still aggressively, but at an intellectual stage!” Deep down in Fuller’s ego, and his persona, that didn’t quite sit well with Mr. Fuller. “You know that all that lingo talk of yours, all that scientific nonsense, doesn’t interest me or does it, catch tail of wind with me neither! But I reckon, that we’ve best try things your way for now!” It almost seemed that there was indeed a limit to Fuller’s compliance or tolerance of my strategy and plan, and for myself perhaps. I realised deep in my mind, that Fuller’s rage or greed, was controllable to an extent; and indeed the time that I had been around him, gave me a sufficient amount of time, to dwell deep into his mind and thoughts. I had come to know his dear moods and his outrages full enough, to decipher exactly just what the good boy, was scheming. Although, I thought I knew his thoughts, still he was a rather unpredictable and uncanny fellow in his actions. I had witnessed his actions, and had calculated his thoughts somewhat to a lesser degree. But still, I did not fully understand his ways; although his pragmatic behaviour was to be expected and foreseen. I was not an expert of him, nor was he a man neither, who could be easily fully dominated or could he be, one who could be tamed to the full extent. I suppose that in a sick and pathetic way, I was no different than him; although I prided myself to be, a much more civilised man than him. Deep down despite however a civilised man can claim to be, he is no different than a filthy animal. His barbarity and ferocity, is only so equalled to that of the savage creature that he hunts for! 3:09 p.m.-Fuller and myself, sat by the campfire that was lighted and had discussed, about the matter of implementing our newly made and devised plan. After a well thought, and well much discussed interaction between the both of us, and along with some communication with the dear Sherpas themselves, our plan was now in set and it was up to all of us, to implement and execute the motion of the plan. And to see it come truly to it’s fruition, and it’s success. I had written on a piece of paper that I had brought with me, the perimeters for the area in which we were to be working in. And just as the perimeters were detailed, so were the peripheries and dimensions of the area in itself. It was as if there was this sort of perimorph, that was imposed, and perianthed around the creature itself. We were in essence assaying, to condense and surround the creature’s inhabitancy. We were looking to impair the creature from being from hither to thither so, or from moving simply in peripatetics.

The snares were surreptitiously implaced, and for the first time we had with us, a wolf a trained wolf that had belonged to the Sherpas and that they claim, was trained and domesticated by them. I felt that it would have been too excessive and too risky, to have any dogs with us; but since it was only but one, and a mighty fine dog in that I felt, that it was best to have the dog thus come along. The Sherpa master would be the one to control the dog. We were to stay all of us, behind hidden rocks or cliffs, that were but suitable to disguise all of us. This was in effect, my plan. I did have a second plan, one that was perhaps much more so efficacious and effective in planning and in purpose but I knew that perhaps Fuller, would not agreed and instead, oppose it vehemently. For it meant being submissive and in an effect, waiting for the creature to come to us completely and the hunt, would be gone. I knew that the passive and submissive gesture, truly would not be fully accepted by Fuller.

Although I did think that my second plan was much more effective, I knew that I had no other option at hand, but to stick with the first, and original plan. For I had to in the meantime, find a way or manner in which I could possibly, convince Fuller of my second or back-up plan. Now all was set, the snares, the wolf, and our patience. We now had truly, the element of surprise and the ingredient of time on our side. For if that one creature which was wounded or even if it be another, or perhaps it be but just one out of fraction of many then, it did not matter to neither Fuller and myself. I had yearned and hankered, to bring back perhaps a whole colony of these primitive and cabalistic animals back to society? But the thought of just one was enough to cloy and satisfy my thirst, for fame and ever more so recognition. No more would I be looked at as being so, a fool or a madman. By bringing back a living yeti fully in tact, I would be consider the best scientist ever. I would even supersede truly Darwin as being, the best scientist of the nineteen century. And I would be the best afterwards, of even the twentieth or twentieth first century as well. Why all the kudos and blandishment, the great prestige and even the claps of hands that I would receive, would be like that of an actor being praised for his act, and performance in the theatre. That was what fuelled my passion, and my conviction to succeed in this endeavour. We were all so hovered about, behind some nearby steep and high rocks, waiting and anticipating eagerly, for any sign of the wounded dear creature to appear. “A cat bite your tongue there Danishman?” Fuller sarcastically inferred. My response to his question was succinct in fact, it was dealt with a question of my own. “What do you mean by that comment Mr. Fuller?” He proceeded to explain to me like always, in his own terminology and lingo, “Why I just wanted to know simply, if there was something wildly so, running through that brain of yours. Why you seem to be thinking about something. Is that not so Danishman?” I myself simply smiled as to disguise my pensive and intellectual thoughts, but I did realise, that however limited sophistication, and scientific intellect Fuller had to his disadvantage, he was so getting better and more keen, on my personality. At first I had thought about deceiving him, but after second thought, I felt that I would profess and confess to the Texan, about my true, and hidden thoughts. I knew that he would grow tired and be bored, about my intellectual language that by telling him this, he would be like always discouraged by asking more questions about my hidden thoughts. I could not help but so noticed, that my intuition was telling me, that there was perhaps more behind the mere question of Fuller’s. Maybe so, he was starting to have second thoughts or suspecting that I myself was perhaps instead, having second thoughts of my own.

“Really Mr. Fuller, would you love to know what are my inner thoughts; for they are mired and drenched in personal high-fallutin, and scientific terminology and suppositions which I am sure, would only tire and bore you in the end Mr. Fuller. And besides, it is not important or relevant. What is truly important and significant here, is to be able to apprehend the creature. Is that not so?” With his devilish grin, he just smiled and replied, “Why certainly Danishman!” I think for Fuller, I was a man who although he disagreed and bickered with at times, came to see me as worthy partner, and not a despicable foe or adversary. After all to him like myself, any animosity and adversity, was best left for the creature itself.

4:30 p.m.-Hours passed by and still we waited and waited, and the more that we tholed and waited, the more it appeared, that Fuller was becoming restless and impatient with my tactic of strategy. “Are you sure that this way, were a going to find that varmint?” Just as I was about to answer the good Mr. Fuller’s question, our conversation would be interrupted, by the sound of loud clamour or din, that could be hear echoing and resonating throughout the landscape of the mountains. “What in the blazing saddles, can that be?” Fuller uttered. I then mumbled, “I don’t know, but it sounds like a creature in distress.” There was no doubt in Fuller’s mind, that the creature who made that loud and stentorian clang was no other, than the yeti itself. “There’s no doubt in my mind, that it was the creature who made that noise!” His eyes then, gloated and gleamed in effervescence and in feeze. “We’ve got him now my boy! He’s mine now, good to skin like a darn rattlesnake!” He quickly instructed and ordered the Cree Indian, to head toward the trap; whilst he encircled the area. With his Colt 45 rifle in his hand, and with the hairs of his whiskers pointed up, he then rose to his feet. Just as he was about to head toward the vicinity in which the snare had been put, and where the noise had directly originated, from I grabbed Fuller by the arm, and told him to wait a minute. “Wait one moment!” My attention simply put, was to quell any outburst of inconsistency and, blunderness in our part. Fuller abruptly, turned around to address me and uttered, “What’s going on here Danishman? Don’t you see, that we’ve got him now!” I made my point known to him, “If you do that then, you will thwart off our plan. How are you sure, that the creature is a yeti? I tell you, that the sound of the creature is not that of the yeti!” Fuller then threw me to the side and rose to his feet, and decided that he would instead, go and seek the creature. I tried to insist and pother, that he was afur and that I was correct; but he would have no part of it. I tried to prevent and stop him, but he was determined, that he indeed had captured the yeti. I then rose to my feet along with the Sherpas and then proceeded to follow Fuller, but he apparently was a few steps ahead of us. “You fool!” I chuntered. Once we arrived at where the snare had been put in place, there would be no yeti trapped by the snare, to be seen but instead a leopard of which apparently, had been trapped by the snare itself. What could be seen from afar, was only the figures and presence of both Fuller and the Indian, who were both standing infront of the good creature, staring and gazing at it. Fuller appeared furious, and he began to rave in obscenities and raffish speaking. I could see the rage and fury in his cheeks which were as red as an apple, and as blazing as a wildfire. I suppose that one who is of the stature and recognition of Fuller, is not used seldomly to fail, or be tricked easily. I had thought of screaming and yelling at Fuller, for his abrupt behaviour and recklessness, which could have ultimately cost my crusade to find the creature.

In my mind were the words, that I did not uttered publicly, “You idiot, you ruined my plan!” But I refrained and more importantly, I was able unlike Fuller, to control and restrict my anger and birse. I was a man much more sophisticated and wiser than Fuller. Instead at being furious at him completely at the stage of yelling and screaming at him, I thought it wiser and so more rational, to gently and mildly point out to him his flaw or his mistake. “Fuller, now you see what I was trying to convey to you. You see, it was not the creature, but instead a leopard; and it is better that we leave this place at once and return to our hiding place, before the creature can see or find us here. Surely, you can understand that point of mine!” At first, I wasn’t sure if what I said, had truly gotten to Fuller’s understanding, and comprehension. But just as I suspected and expected, he would acquiesce in the end citing, his fatuous blunder or mistake. I could see still the visible signs and traces of fury, and wrath in the guise of Fuller. He was a man of tremendous pride, and haughtiness. Indeed, it was difficult and extremely hard for a man like Fuller, to admit and confess that he was wrong. But what was more arduous for him to thig was the fact, that he could not come to give an apology to one for it would be like admitting his odd inferiority to me. He would instead of apologising to me for his error, put his rifle back up to his shoulder and tap me on my shoulder, and with a smirk reply, “I reckon, you had a good point there Danishman!” I could only smile myself, and sarcastically reply, “Good Mr. Fuller, I am glad now, that you have seen, and understood my point.” I threw in a snobby remark, “Next time, Mr. Fuller you will adhere to my suggestions. The next time that we hear a cry, or a loud crump then, we will wait accordingly; and then investigate the incident. Is that not the best way to do it? After all, is that not what we agreed to do, in this plan in which the both of us consented to?”

At first, I wasn’t sure nor certain, if he was going to punch me or slug me like in the previous time or if he was instead going to, reluctantly acquiesce in the end. In the end, Fuller succumbed, to my will and advise. Still ever so reluctant; for his expression hid his so concealed true feelings, and his thoughts. “But why of course Danishman! After all, you’re running the game here. I reckon that be so for now!” After that mild and tame discourse, we then did the most prudent thing to do, and that was as Fuller saids, “To scadaddle out of there!” Since the leopard was already dead, with it’s broken neck, caused by the result of it’s entrapment by the snare. Fortunately the wolf, would not give our presence away. Fuller had instructed the Cree, to pull the leopard out of the trap; and to reset the trap again. After that was accomplished I then suggested to Fuller, that it was best to retire for the day, and return back to the hovel, and start over again tomorrow. Fuller hesitated to accept that notion and reality for to him, he wanted to so continue with the hunt but once again, I was forced to convey to him, about the importance of executing the plan, even to the full letter of the plan. In the end once again, Fuller acquiesced and understood my premise. “I reckon that it’s best to stay on course then Danishman!” We all left the area, and headed back for the hovel which would be to us our base of operation, and rendez-vous as well. 8:18 p.m.-The irksomeness of the day, was put aside for the moment and left instead, for thus another day. Instead, we spent the night in a much more humane manner, and that was of course by enlightening ourselves with music, and alcohol. At least, that was to be the case for Fuller and his Cree Indian. Fuller’s conduct was indeed strange. To say that it was unpredictable, was but merely an understatement the least. For, it was hard for me to understand his manners. He then decided that it was appropriate to drown himself in alcohol to commemorate, his own brother’s memory which mind it, was still fresh and recent.

19 January-Was awakened to find Fuller again, shooting shots into the air accompanied by the Cree. I immediately reprimanded him, telling him that by shooting frivolously into the sky, it so was truly jeopardising and shending the plan. “Mr. Fuller, remember the plan. You must indeed remember, that you gave your word. Are you not a man, who stands by his word? Is not your word to be trusted and believed? Surely a man of your prestige and honour, does not betray nor go back against his own word!” It seemed, that I had made sense truly in the haughty, and the braggadocio mind of this man. If there was one thing that despite all his flaws and protuberance, was the simple fact, that to a man like Fuller so, honour and dignity was still, the law of the land even to Fuller. With his supposed humble, and rueful smile he replied, “Why I reckon that your right Danishman. You know, that despite all that scientific lingo of yours, I do say candidly that I admire a man with your traits, and qualities. Darn it, I can’t believe I find myself, a saying that I’m kind of finding myself, liking you more and more!” He then chuckled a bit, and then uttered, “You know your right, I did give my word!” He posed the question to me, “You know what an opossum is Danishman?” I looked at him eye to eye as if to wonder if he was either, trying to insult my intelligence, or was he trying to pose a serious question. “Yes, I know what an opossum is! Why do you ask me that question?” He then replied by asking me another question. “Do you’ll have opossums, back there yonder in your Denmark?” I still was not sure nor certain, whether or not he was trying to insult me; or if he was attempting to impose a relevancy behind his question. It was indeed an ambiguous question to ask. “Why do you ask me that question?” “Chucks, it’s nothing that serious to be alarm my boy! I just wanted to know that’s all?” Fuller replied. I then proceeded to answer his question. “I am afraid, that as far as I know of, there are no opossums that I have any clear knowledge of in Denmark.” I then asked him, of what was the true nature behind his ambiguous question. “Just what exactly, is the motive and inducement, behind your question Mr. Fuller?” He proceeded to explain, and thence elucidate himself.

“Well, I just wanted to make an analogy. You see in Texas, one saids although it be not oftenly used anymore, “If a man can spot an opossum a mile away, he could see into a man’s heart and soul!” In some strange and uncouth manner, I felt that I had a meaning of what exactly Fuller, was trying to convey to me. I did not take his words as an umbrage but instead, as a compliment of some sort. However it be, it was not my attention to irk the good Texan. I reciprocated his smile so, but showing my humble smile and an expression, that would make a deceitful and cunning huckster, pale in comparison. “Why that’s a rather good saying of yours Mr. Fuller. Remind me, to visit Texas one day!” I answered. Although I was so extremely angry and furious, by his poor comportment; and his violation of the terms of our plan perhaps, all was not lost. I thought to myself, that truly through Fuller’s ignorance and blatant fatuity, the plan was ruined, and doomed. But after second thought, I quickly thought that everything, was not lost, and the plan itself was still achievable. The only major problem, or obstacle to that one principle, was the simple and banal fact, that the execution of the plan, had to be executed and fulfilled to the effectiveness of the plan itself. “Now that everything is understood between the both of us Mr. Fuller, let us now have some good breakfast. And then, start up on our journey. for the day seems to be rather pleasant. The sun is out in force, and the wind seems to be tamed for at least today. But mind you, that will not be the case perhaps tomorrow or the next following days. For I am sure as well as you know, that this good weather cannot last forever, and that the prospect of the turbulent weather and hectic snow and slippery ice, can become a nuisance at all times!”

11:25 p.m.-Finished having some breakfast and some coffee with Fuller, and had a mildly good and interesting conversation, which dealt not with the creature itself; but instead with his youth and infancy, and his notorious and prominent escapades and adventures throughout the world it appeared. Indeed Fuller was good, and meticulous in the aspect of story telling. He had no real problem of even embellishing and exaggerating his triumphs, and hardships in life. I do suppose that a man with his self-centred ego had no difficulty at all, in gloating about his ownself; even at the cost of the entirety of the full truth. Though, he seemed truly in my humble opinion to be so insincere and incompasionate about things in general, he reflected a certain character of history I believe. Just who particularly, I do not know; but he seems to pride himself on two characters, which were living role models and heroes to him. One was the Great Buffalo Bill himself, and the other was a fond American patriot of the Spanish-America war, by the name of Theodore Roosevelt. From what I had read about these two particular men were, that they were both so haughty and ill-tempered in their ways and more importantly, in their behaviour. I suppose, that one can make the claim, that Fuller was a spitting image of these men at least, in their much so ill-tempered and short fused temperament. He had no problem raving and prating about his heroes; for there was no shortage at all in that aspect of his personality. Why he thrives and strives, on being almost identical and exact, as those great legends of American folklore. He called General Custer, and Davy Crockett but true American heroes; and he invoked another names such as western gun fighters as Billy the Kid, and Jesse James. There was no shortage at all of his stories or his embellishment of his stories of Cowboys and Indians, or as Fuller calls it, “The Old Wild West!” I had accoustomly, come to hear, his southern dialect daily; but he seemed to get in his southern or Texas dialect even much more, when he raved on about the legendary stories of the west and in particular, stories about Cowboys and Indians, and the Alamo as well.

If there was one interesting, and even so amazing detail about Fuller’s wild western stories it was the fact, that he seemed too precise and accurate about every little detail of the attire and the guns along with the type of bullets, and exact names and places in which all of these occurrences, and events transpired. For with Fuller, there were no minutaes none so ever. He was a very direct and upfront man. For many men would buckle and be afraid somewhat of his persona, but to me, I had seen it before somewhat, back home growing up in Denmark. He reminded me, of Lars the local bully who lived in my neighbourhood. Fuller himself, was a rather tall and debonairing man in style somewhat but he lacked substance, and flair not in his persona but much more in his intellect and intelligence. Physically I was an older man, than him, and physically and somatically, he was much taller than me and much more agile and much stronger than me it seemed. But I was like a bear, and I was no feeble and week man, and Fuller knew that of me. Many men would indeed, have been intimidated and even daunted, by the tall and lean hunter. A braggadocio and braggard he was, but a coward he was not. But, neither was I in the end. If there was one particular story or adventure, that Fuller loved to rave about it was, about the legendary battle at the O.k. Corral.

He said that he admired, the courage of a certain Doc Holiday who he claimed to have met, just as he claimed to have met both Jesse James, and Billy the Kid as an infant boy growing up, in America. Whether or not Fuller’s wild claims, were sufficiently believable and actual, did not interest me at all. What did interest me, was the need and passion, that he had in finding the cursed creature. That was all, that interested me to the full extent. I had come to brook and tolerate, his antics, stories, and above all, his defiance! Now the only concern and worry, that was constantly on my present mind was, to make him comply to my demands and plans. The truth be told I did not care, about his wild stories of folklore just as much as he did not care, about my scientific terminology and theories. However opposite we were in background and intelligence, the one common thing that united and thence connected the both of us together was the simple fact, that we both had the damn ambition, and greed to succeed; ad hoc with the yeti itself. “I reckon it’s time to go, and fetch that darn critter out of it’s burrough Danishman. I’m a mighty anxious and eager, to find that son of bitch! Why I’ve got Toot a howling, like a hound here. And like my good old daddy use to say, when he would face the Yankees, back in Chattanooga, “We’ve a fixing to fight us a battle!” Fuller was indeed full with ambiguous connotations and euphemisms. I did not care about his words, or his whids for instead, I was more concerned in finding ways to yauld, and inurgorate his interest in the creature. Even though in all essence, I did not really need to urge him on for the sheer and dear determination and feeze, could be seen in his eyes so clearly and visibly. He had that damn devilish and sinister grin or smirk on his countenance; much like I imagine, a crazy and idiotic madman. I was much more interested, in the scientific value and worth of the creature.

Fuller on the other hand, was much more interested, in the fame and recognition of the creature. I was much more interested in the evolution of the creature, and the interesting concept it posed to Darwin’s theory of evolution itself. I was interested in the biology, anthropology, and somatology of the creature; for to me so, primarily the comparative study of the creature’s own evolution, variation, and basic classification, was one so essentially and mainly the true scientific worth and essence of my conviction and drive, to see it come to it’s fruition, and to perfection. I dare not think now of failure and misery, when I have come too far to return back to Europe and to civilisation itself, empty-handed and disgraced and even taunted, as a buffoon. I will prove to the world then that the Great Peter Hansen was the best, the most talented, and the most brilliant scientist, anthropologist, biologist, somalogist, or physician ever in the modern, and the ancient world. And when that is accomplished and achieved, I shall raise my glass of fine fresh worthy Burgundy wine; and be toasted by the whole world. I Peter Hansen, shall be the great man of the hour! Again, we set off for our previous hiding place, where we would have to play the waiting game once again. Of course, it was not much to be excited about; but instead frown upon, but the tactic and strategy that I had planned had to be implemented and executed, to the full extent of the plan. I was not willingly or ready to see it go astray, or amuck. I was not so willing, or ready neither to see it dissipate and wither, such like a capricious whim. If Fuller, was strong and so committed in his determination and in his conviction, so was I But even much more I feel. It was advantageous and fortunate for us, that only one snare had to be readjusted, and put back into place. Aside from that, everything else was still left in place, just like yesterday. “How are we going to tell whether or not, the creature is still in the area, and in the vicinity dear Danishman?” Fuller intriguely asked. I then looked at him, with this non-chalant manner of expression. “Well I don’t know!” Fuller was bemused, and somewhat so fractous about my subtle comment.

“Why, what in the blazing hell, do you mean by that Danishman?” I did not see the need to speak in a pattern of conundrums and riddles myself, so I thought it wiser to speak much more clearer and effective. “Look neither you or I, are one-hundred percent sure the creature is still here, but my notion is if we stay to the plan by waiting for it to surface then, our chances in finding the good creature in the end will be alot better, than to let it think that we are searching for it, endlessly!”

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

19 January-Today we are to set out on our new expedition for thankfully and mercifully, the weather has not forsaken us. I can’t help, but to wonder and ponder about the nuisance which appears to nag and irk my mind. Indeed I could not shake off the thought the whole night, about whether or not I was to venture or not, with the expedition or not. The pestering, and pothering thought of returning back to England, with what I had already obtained and achieved, was truly rending on my mind that, it was better to depart from Nepal, with the object that I had already ascertained. Of course if I was to return back to England with only the mere sample, it was not to assure me or ascertain me the position, and status of grand recognition and fame. By returning to my beloved England with the creature’s beleaguered small piece of flesh, it was not sufficiently enough evidence and proof, to prove to the scientific and medical community that the yeti, truly existed. Indeed, there would be critics and zoiluses, who would sent me one diatribe and flack to another. I dare not mention the prospect of being called a huckster, and the mere notion of those sceptics, proclaiming and asseverately dismissing my object of science as being, merely a fraud and a sham! I cannot imagine myself being ever so more, shirty afterwards. Today I had to make up my mind, and the determination to either return back to England, with what I had already ascertained hitherto, or instead continue the search and expedition along with the others. Eitherwise the prospect of my decision being a knell, was wretched in whatever decision that I selected.

My heart was telling me to return back to London, but my mind and my brain, was saying eitherwise. I knew basically, that I was confronted with the dire possibility of failing in another situation. It was indeed a daunting and fluttering predicament. On one hand, I was so faced with the prospects of returning back home with my life in tact, but with my dignity somewhat eroded. And the other hand, I was faced with the prospect of staying still, and perhaps ending up empty handed and more importantly in the end, abandoned or worst much dead? After pondering and cudgelling deeply this decision that I was confronted with, I made the conscious and aware determination of leaving the hunt for the creature, and returning back to my England; with what I had brought back. Though I did not relish nor zest the thought of failure, and that of returning without Sir Wellington and the others but still I was ready to receive, a harden blow or larrup, that was to come my way, in the form of criticism itself. I had to be bold and brave in telling Sir Wellington of my decision. Here was a versant, eccentric, and above all, a knurled man. I could just imagine his reaction and words being, “Nay, I cannot believe your words dear boy!” For then, he would see me as being nebbish and dastardly as well. Such a poor interpretation of my avowal, it should represent in his eyes. Indeed, it is an augean, and the task in itself is aught, that I myself pratell be, cannot come to reason with a clear and effective manner of explanation. I do hope for my sake, that Sir Wellington my dear mentor, shall come to realise and view my reason, and ceasing my participation and continuation, in the endeavour to find, and locate the creature. As the hour arrived so, and Sir Wellington arrived to where I was staying at, he then queried to me, “Are you ready for the journey my dear boy! I am full of revived spirit my boy! Truly my boy, I tell you that it is a good day, for a spry search old chap!” There was glee in the eyes of Sir Wellington, but I worry for how long?

In the beginning, I was not certain nor sure of what to reply to my dear mentor for Sir Wellington himself, was a man with tremendous stature and pride. And perhaps, he would only frown and scoff at my suggestion and desire, to abandon the expedition so easily. I knew that it would be perhaps, much more than a mere disappointment to him. I feared so the prospect, of seeing my intentions be misunderstood, by Sir Wellington himself. “I am afraid, that I shall not be going along with you, my dear Sir Wellington!” I dreaded that his expression, would mear a mere hump and that he would feel hoised and hoicked, by my fraught excuse. Perhaps I was awk and facetious in my manner of reasoning. But I had truly prided myself, as being an honourable gentlemen. “By Jove! Are you pulling my leg there my boy?” I mumbled, “Nay, by all means not Sir Wellington; for I would not deceive you in that manner!” He then sighed and stared into the depth of my eyes, as I did likewise. He then uttered, “Are you certain of your decision my boy?” I then confessed, and professed to him, “I do believe so sir. I have thought out well in advanced, my decision. I do regret that I must depart from the expedition, but I have taken in account my desire to return to England. For, I feel that with what I have already obtained in the way of the specimen of the creature, that I am quite cloyed and much satisfied, with what I have already ascertained!” On the contrary, Sir Wellington’s reaction and acceptance of my intentions to leave the expedition and search, was rather much more accepting to him. In order, to relieve my burden upon him, he put his right hand on my shoulder and then, jesterly acclaimed, “Don’t wherret my boy; for I do not judge your actions, nor decision. I commemorate you, for being a rather honest and earnest fellow!” Indeed, much to my astonishment, Sir Wellington’s reaction, was but less than what I imagined. I felt truly a deep sense of shame, and disappointment in failing the great expectations of Sir Wellington but at the same time, I was somewhat relieved and fortunate, that he did not gird nor criticise me on my hiatus from the expedition. “I thank you for understanding my desire to abandon the expedition, and I do appreciate the fact as well, that you do not belittle my departure; and bestow upon me failure!” My colourful words, would produce a smirk on the face of Sir Wellington; and a chortling laughter as well.

“Good God my boy, I would not indulge myself with such fatuituous and frivolous criticism. When will you depart my boy? Shall it be so soon my boy?” I could only tell him, “I believe that I do not know exactly what day, tomorrow the next day; or whatever. But in all case, it should be very soon! You must understand that my principle in returning back to England, is to return to the halls of the British Museum, with what I have in the form of the specimen of the creature!” It was sad sorrow indeed, to be leaving and departing Nepal, and my good mentor Sir Wellington. Sir Wellington then shook my hand, and then made the reply, “Truly, I shall come to miss your daily parlays and above all, your company my dear boy!” I could see and sense a slight tear of emotion, in the eye of dear Sir Wellington; for he did come to see me in a way as a son, and I came to see him truly, as a father figure.

11:18 p.m.-It was time for Sir Wellington and Lord Whitmore along with the Sherpas, to depart from the quaint and small village; and head off into the midst of the mountains anew, to renew the quest for the creature. “I must say that I do not understand, your motives in giving up, this endeavour and heading back to England. For, you will truly come under the scrutiny and diatribe of many of your opponents. Truly if I can ask, why do you bother?” Lord Whitmore so candidly inquired. I was not sure of how to reply or reciprocate Lord Whitmore’s candidness. The thought of uttering my true feeling dwelled upon a sense of disrespect, but truly I myself had to be candid and frank in my manner of expression. If not then, it would be compromising upon my principles and beliefs. So I chose what I thought was best to do, and that was to respond to his perhaps snide remarks. “Perhaps your are right Lord Whitmore, but is that not my choice to make! After all it is I who is departing, and not you sir?” It could have been so easily interpreted, as being a frumpy response but I strongly felt, that I was conveying and heartily, saying my peace of mine. Nay, did I seek to asperse him but instead, to be rather so upfront to him. After all, it would be fibbing if not! Instead of his eyebrows curling up, and accompanied by the usual scoff of nobility his reaction was on the contrary, rather staid and non-chalant. “Well, if that is your predilection my dear Professor Bunbury then by all means, you are so entitled and granted, your leave of absence! I do suppose that he meant well, despite the typical bureaucracy and stiff talk of his kind, which was typically rather heathered and haste, in judgement.

He extended his hand, as a token of good will and good gesture. He then chuntured, “Good luck old chap, I may not fully understand well your desire to abandon the mission but as Father would say, it’s better to leave, whilst one can claim victory!” He then gave me this uppish and new-fangled look. I thought it best, to not seek to offend his ego, and his self centred persona. I thought that I let bygones be bygones, if I was willing to conceive to the thought of doing that even with the pompous, and orotund Mr. Fuller then, I was able as well to do that with even with the knurled, and prominent stature and rank of dear Lord Whitmore himself. I do not forget of his position nor his rank as a lord in nobility and I, just a mere aristocrat amongst the flock. Truly, I did not see him as being unshoddy and myself shoddy after all, if there was one thing that I truly learned about my stay here in Nepal, and much more importantly, with my stay here with the Sherpa’s just recently was the fact so, that the despite all the rank and stature of one we were all human beings, and that included the likes of even, Lord Whitmore himself.

(Rem-Must remind myself so, to thank the Sherpas for their gentle and noble hospitality and especially, the gracious and benign assistance and aid of Professor Kham. Truly he is a good man and a good doctor, and anthropologist.)

Walters then said his shook my hand, and said his goodbyes to me. I had thought just perhaps out of the group he was perhaps, to head back with me? But instead, much to my dear amazement and astonishment, he rejected my noble offer to return to Europe and he instead so, affirmed his desire and urge to continue and go forth, with the expedition itself. “Goodbye my good friend, I shall dearly miss your intellectual bavardages, and daily input for a scientist, it is never dull nor bored, when one is of course in the company, of fellow scientists! I wish you the best, and that you are able to prove to the world, that what you shall bring back to England, shall in the end, dismiss any notion of the creature’s non-existence. But, I would be remiss, if I did not tell you, what I am sure that you yourself already know fully well, in this arena. You know that despite the specimen, there would be many, who will criticise you and paint you as being a sham or a fraud!” I had always come to believe that Americans were all indeed so fustian, and irksome individuals but I was wrong indeed for Walter unlike Fuller, was the epitome I do believe of the few amongst the many of Americans, a good man.

While Fuller, was the epitome of all the good caricatures of those, that were commonly printed on the Sunday papers. Sir Wellington thence, stoically interjected, with a powerful and cogent enthusiasm, “Give them hell my boy, I do know that it will be difficult but you’ll see, everything will be all right back there, in London!” He then paused for a momentary second, as to reflect upon his own situation. “As far as I am concerned, we shall prevail in the end. You’ll see in the end we shall triumph in the name of science my boy. I will bring back to London at last, the wretched and abominable snowman that existed once in the legends, and in the minds of the feeble and light-minded, and now exist!” He then pointed with his finger to the mountains, “There up there my boy, just several miles above, we shall not only find the creature called the yeti; but bring him back alive I say, for the name of science I say!” Indeed Sir Wellington, had a knack and a way of rousing up things; for he was considered the maverick of his times. I took to heart, his boastful and rowdy words and whids of encouragement. Indeed his sturdy and yaulding avowal, brought an aufklärung to my heart and soul. His eyes leaven and permeate a sudden, and hilt glow in his eyes of enlightenment. I can not deem Sir Wellington to be spurious in his bravura. If there was one thing that I truly regretted and felt a sense of remorse it was the fact that there were several men, who were lost along the way; and that I would not be able to continue or resume with the search for the yeti. The thought that I was truly hither, and near to finding the creature and more importantly, that I was close to success and full recognition. If whatever leavings of consolation I had, it was of course the dear specimen of the creature.

12:05 p.m.-Said my last true goodbyes to the men of the expedition, and stood there in awl and in respect, as I saw the men leave and depart from the village while I remained, and stayed much behind. Fortunately today was a good day, and despite the winter cold and December snow, it was truly a good day to venture back into the mountains, and resume the search for the creature. It was indeed strange and bizarre for me to be seeing the men depart, and leave without me. But perhaps, that was to be a part of destiny and fate, though it had been truly of my own choosing and predilection. Today a chapter would end, and for Sir Wellington and the others, a new saga would begin. As I saw them depart, I found myself saying in a murmuring and churring manner, “Good luck old chaps!”

1:14 p.m.-With the others now far ahead in on their expedition, it was now time for me to exit Nepal and return back to the cradle of civilisation which to me was no other, than London itself. I was forlornly grateful and thankful that Professor Kham, was heading back to India this very day, and that he had offered me, transportation to India with him. I have gathered and garnered my traps or personal belongings, and was now set to leave Nepal and the Hades, that was this forsaken wasteland which represented in my very own eyes, the depth of hell itself. I had made quite certain and with utmost certainty, to ensconce and wrapped up with utmost delicacy and provision, the specimen of the creature. It was after all the prime jewel, that I was to take back to England with me. I knew that my chances of success were a fifty-fifty chance. Although, I had scientific proof of the creature’s existence and being, that did not assure me fully so, that there would not be sceptics and critics, who would gladly and easily, dismiss my claim of the dearest creature’s existence. “Are you ready and prepared for the journey to India, Professor Bunbury?” asked Professor Kham. I looked at him, and could only reply, “Why of course, I am ready to go at a whim! Is it now, time to go?” Professor Kham’s response was simply, “Yes! It is now time to go, and it is better that we leave now then later. Darkness will soon prevail, and it is better that we reach Kathmandu, before the sun sets professor!” He then asked, “Are you sure you want to leave?”

5:09 p.m.-Arrived at the capital city of Kathmandu, and rested for the rest of the day. Tomorrow early in the morning we were to head off to India, and attempt to reach Calcutta before nightfall. While in Kathmandu, I could not help but think about the situation of the ongoing expedition, by the others.

20 January-Left the city of Kathmandu early in the morning, and were so able to leave the city, without too much difficulty or problem. At least the weather here is much better, and has indeed co-operated for us through this endeavour. It is a strange feeling to not be amongst the Sherpas and the Himalayas, but the thought of returning to England does gaude, and bring a feeze upon me.

8:19 p.m.-Arrived at Calcutta at last. From here I am to travel to Bombay, and from the edge of India I shall take a boat to Egypt where it is suppose to take at least, four days in journey. I am not keen nor do I kindle the though of travelling through sea by boat, but it is perhaps, the more safest route to take. Tired and fatigued, from the journey must rest now. The day tomorrow shall be long; for I am to travel to Bombay!

21 January-Arrived at Bombay, sometime during the nightfall by train whereupon my arrival, I was greeted by a Professor Guntry an Englishman from Sheffield, who was now living in India working as a local professor of one of the universities, there in Bombay. Found Professor Guntry, to be a rather unique and bizarre chap. I had known of his work from what Professor Kham had told me of him, but still I was bemused, by his inducement and reasoning in leaving the comforts of England and coming here to the filthy, and impoverish city of Bombay. When I posed that one single question to him, his response was candid and frank. “By Jove! I must say that I have been asked that one single question before, and I often at times, have truly even posed that question to myself. But if you must know, I have come to expand the name of England; and bring much thus needed education to these heathens and these unbelievers!” I thought that I was back in my dear parroquial school in England, hearing about the glory and tir of the Great Crusades of yore.

I did not dare utter or profess to him, about my observations and personal views, instead I remained hushed, about the subject. Spent the rest of the time trying to rest, and think of what I was to do once I returned back home to England. While I was in Bombay, I did not make any mention of the discovery of the creature to Professor Guntry, but instead I kept it a secret. I was so grateful, that I had Professor Kham’s solemn word so, that he would not make mention to anyone of my discovery for it was to be kept, betwixt the two of us.

22 January-This morning I am about to board upon the ship called the Ralsford, where upon I am to leave this morning from the shores of India to the shores of Italy where there, I am to take a train from Italy, to England. I shall be sad to leave the continent of Asia, but I must be realistic; for I have chosen the path of returning to England. I must say my goodbyes to Asia, as I must shortly say my goodbyes to Professor Kham; and must thank him dearly for everything that he has done for me in the way of assistance and above all, his transportation. I can only hope, that success shall be awaiting me; for London is a calling! I shook the hand of Professor Kham whilst at the boat’s entrance and he said, “Good luck Professor Bunbury!” I reciprocated, “Good luck Professor Kham!” Off to England now, the boat is about to leave!

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

21 January-Two days have pass by truly, and still no visible sign or trace of the cursed creature. Fuller grows impatience, and so restless by the day. I can detect in him, anxiety and eagerness to trek for the drive to find the creature, is boiling in his skin. I don’t know what to expect of what the outcome truly shall be for I have never been one, to measure my feats on mere time and fate. I suppose that Father Time, shall be kind on us and bless us, with sufficient time enough to truly succeed in this endeavour. I can only hope truly, that the expedition shall bring fruition and also prosperity above all, to me! If truly the plan is to succeed then, I must keep Fuller in compliance; and make him see the fruition of the plan. I am sure that, if given ample and sufficient time, my plan will work. The key to succeeding is whether or not, I could maintain Fuller’s compliance, and cooperation. For if that could not be achieved then, surely I would only be left to fail, in this endeavour of mine. I spent a part of the night, thinking about the whereabouts of Bunbury, and the others. Perhaps they are still alive, or perhaps they have abandoned the expedition and have returned back to the original Sherpa village in which, we first departed from originally. But, the thought that they are dead already, is quite a reasonable and feasible possibility. Eitherwise, it is best although it be cruel to say for the accolades and kudos, are now for myself to ascertain!

10:27 p.m.-We had breakfast and coffee, along with a healthy and debatable discussion. Fuller was starting despite just two days, to crack a little in his determination to comply with this plan of mine. He posed several interesting questions, whilst we were discussing and going over the details of the plan or what was to be expected of it, today. I think that the will to continue with the plan, outweighs any notion of his abandoning the premise of the plan itself. I think that it is a tricky and cunny game, that I am playing with Fuller. For the truth be told, I am not one-hundred percent certain and sure, that the plan will, truly work in the end. I am left with suppositions and conjectures along with theories, but that is something that is much better than what was indeed previously and priorly, accomplished beforehand. We left the hovel, and headed off, to resume and continue in our search for the creature. I had calculated during our stay in the Sherpa village, the necessary details surrounding the needed steps to be taken, and interposed in this endeavour. The creature’s behaviour hitherto has been ideally in accordance, with my thoughts and proper own theories as well. From what I have able to analyse and study of the creature, it is rather so adaptable, and has been able to outmanoeuvre us uptil this point. Indeed, it is a creature with utmost intelligence, and perspicacity as well. It’s aspect of concealing and sheltering itself from our view, can be nothing more than exceptional and superb in perfection. But I wonder in the end, just how long can this creature continue so, to elude and evade us? Today, we had decided to hide behind another place of coverage. I had asked that two men, be put on the other side of the mountain ridge itself, but only a few meters away.

In dear essence, we were still applying and employing the tactic of waiting, and tholing for the creature to come. It was much like the tactic in which a predator would employ, against his prey. We were the predators, and the creature itself, was the prey. Indeed it was a risking tactic, and one which Fuller had used and was a well-known tactic, to employ. But this time the situation was different. I was quite certain, that if proper intelligence and ingenuity was imposed so wisely, it would be effective and efficacious in the end. I am convinced, that the plan will certainly work. “Why have the men, be put on the other side? What you’ve got in mind, Danishman?” Fuller inquisitively inquired. I then proceeded, to explain and tell Fuller about my intentions, and inducement and shifting the men, onto the other side of the ridge. “Look Mr. Fuller, my tactic is simple, by having two or three men on the other side of us nearby, it expands our view to see the critter. It is a tactic simplistic in nature, and one in which many great generals of before, have so employed during warfare. Is that not so?” Fuller curled his right lip over his mouth, and thence mumbled the words, “Why I reckon so!” “It is a matter of time before we find the critter, and until then we must be patience and wait. The critter will soon have to expose itself, to the good bait!” We had put out chunks of a dead yak, which we had been brought along the trip in order, to bait the creature.

I knew that we couldn’t go about looking, for any yak to shoot. Because if then the noise would only cause a commotion, and ultimately and eventually astir the creature’s awareness of our existence. It was something, which I was not looking favourably to jeopardise by mere carelessness, and ignorance. I had tolerated and brooked, Fuller’s act of disobedience before but this time, I was not going to tolerate another outbreak of that. And I felt in the end, that Fuller himself, had come to comprehend that message whistedly.

2:17 p.m.-Hours had passed, and still nothing to be found nor seen within the perimeters of the binoculars. I myself was starting to become frustrated, and upset with the lack of progress and in particularly, with the absence or the invisibility of the creature’s presence. It just couldn’t be, I ask? How could the creature continue to evade and gee us? It was something by which, I tried aimlessly and endlessly in my mind to understand but I must be patient, I cannot let Fuller detect nor know about the doubts that are slowly penetrating, into my mind. Hitherto, I have been able to disguise my frustration for the lack of progress and success, from Fuller. But I am afraid, that if the days become weeks and still there is not progress then, Fuller’s compliance and indeed his acquiescence with the plan, would falter and erode within a heartbeat. So far, my explanations and theories, have been able to quell the restlessness and anxiety of Fuller. I believe, that time itself, could only tell what the outcome will be. But I am sure that in the end, success should be so propitious and favourable to us!

4:30 p.m.-Just as we were waiting behind the rocks of the ridge, a strange noise could be heard just, a mile away from the position in which, we were all situated upon. It would be Toot the old Cree Fuller’s man, who would hear the strange noise from afar. He would quickly, signalled us both Fuller and myself, about the noise itself. He did not yell nor tell us by words instead, he did employ his method by using animal calls which were quite rife, and prevalent for Native Indians to use, while in their hunting tactics. Quickly Fuller grabbed his binoculars, and he began to look through their lens and see just exactly what the whole uproar, was about. “Great Jesus! Why I believe we’ve got a friend for dinner!” I then quickly, grabbed my own pair of binoculars, and then myself took a glance of what Fuller, was descrying at so. “What can that be, it looks like a creature a primate or an ape of somekind; but he looks to be massive. I cannot be sure of what it is for it is still too far away, to see it clearly!” Once again, Fuller’s passion, and zeal to lunge out and seek the creature, materialised itself again. “This time, we’ve done got him truly!” I quickly grabbed Fuller by the shoulder, and warned him about what could happen if he blatantly rose to his feet and went to capture, and haft the creature. “No, you cannot go just yet. You must wait! We can’t jump to conclusion just yet, for we are not sure if that is the creature or not!” At first he scoffed and frowned upon my suggestion, but then somehow, he quickly so realised my point of view.

“All right, I reckon you’ve got a mighty darn good point there my dear Danishman but if that be the critter then you can bet, that I will pounce on, that darn varmint in the end!” “We must wait before anything can be done. Let us not waste time, dally in bickering disputes Mr. Fuller! For the creature must be the focus here!” Apparently, Fuller was able to see my point. I could see the glow in the eyes of Fuller, “Why I reckon once again, you’ve got a good point there Danishman!” It was determined now, that we would wait and see what would thence become. Would the unknown looking creature, resurface from the midst of the snow and harsh mountains, that was the timing question here? If it was, I was willing to deal with Fuller’s antics afterwards. As we look on it began to snow heavily, and snowflakes began to pierce onto the ground, and upon the lenses of the binoculars as well. It appeared that the creature was thwarted off by the snow, that it slowly disappeared from sight. “Cursed it be! The damn snow seems to be thwarting off the creature!” “We should go and attack the critter before, he gets any farther Danishman!” exclaimed Fuller. He then rose to his feet and told Toot and the others, to go and investigate the matter. When we arrived at the scene, the pieces of meat of the sliced up yak were gone; but there were visible signs and traces of the creature’s own blood. Quickly, the Cree picked up on the residues of the blood of the creature, and so did the wolf. “What’ve you got there Toot, have you got the varmint’s scent already boy?” The Cree, picked up some of the moisture of the snow; as if it was telling him, where exactly the creature had gone to so. “Wet snow tell me, that it is in that direction!” He then pointed westwardly. “Good job Toot. You’ve done spot that critter quite well!” I then interjected, “Are you sure that the creature is in that direction?” Fuller then looked at me, and with a clear certainty in his eyes uttered, “Why I trust this boy, more than I trust my own mother. Why he’s like a bloodhound on the search, of a mountain lion!”

The Sherpas then seemed to confirm with the Cree. We all then, began to head westward, in the direction in which the Cree Indian had suggested and been pointing to. The snowflakes and the snow itself, began to pound heavily; and we soon found ourselves trudging and ploughing through the snow. I had suggested that we head back to the hovel, since the snow was quickly becoming, unbearable to brook and tolerate. Fuller was reluctant, and leath to abandon the search sensing so, that this was the best chance beyond any other one previously, to finally find the illusive yeti. “I’m not going to give up just yet. If you want to scadaddle back to the cave then, oblige yourself. But I came here to find that darn varmint, and I ain’t going to let my best chance to find the varmint pass me by so, like a cotton tail!” As I stared in the menacing and daunting eyes of Fuller, I could see his point and I realised truthfully that he was right. But I also knew that by chasing after a creature, that perhaps the creature, was perhaps leading us only, to a wild goose chase. But at the same time, I knew that I could not risk my affinity with Fuller after all, I still needed his assistance and aid in finding the creature. “I suppose you’re right Mr. Fuller!” We then continued with the pursuit and search for the creature, and thus we went forward. I knew that, perhaps it was the creature that I along with Fuller had seen. But on the other hand, perhaps it was not. It was a chance that I took for Fuller was right when he exclaimed, that perhaps this was the one golden opportunity to find the creature.

After a mile or so, there was no sign of the creature, and the snow that was coming down heavily, had but all covered up the drops of blood which served, as important clews. Face with the haunting prospect that we were on a frivolous and hopeless trek, I implored Fuller to dearly abandon the search and to head back as soon as possible, or we would stray off from our good previous course. Fuller would at last agree, realising that the possibility that we could be strayed off from our course was, truly a feasible hazard and detriment. “I reckon that like my daddy use to say, “You know that you had enough, when you’ve bitten enough bark, to know that you can’t bite any more bark!” The snow was picking up more and more, and it seemed, that perhaps a snow storm was approaching. It was just as we had decided to retrieve back to the hovel, that Toot the Cree along with the wolf noticed, that there was this fulsome stench, or odor of death. He quickly ran to the side of a ridge where a huge rock was infront of him; and then noticed out of the corner of his right eye, the astonishing and shocking sight of a strange looking corpse that seemed to belong to no other, than the yeti perhaps. He immediately whistled for us to come at once, sensing that he had indeed stumbled upon the dead cadaver of the creature itself. When we arrived at the scene neither I or Fuller, could fully make out just truly, what was this mysterious corpse that, was laying face front in the ground, covered up by the falling snow.

“Great Jesus! What in the blazing saddles, can this poor critter be?” It was difficult to know, since the major part of the body, had been concealed and covered already, by the barrage of snow, which was not letting up at all. Quickly, I instructed the Sherpa men to dig up the body, but they seemed to resist, as if it was sacrilege. I got the feeling and sensation so, that they knew just exactly, what type of creature was laying dead on the ground covered within the falling snow itself. Seeing that I was not able to get any corroboration nor assistance from the Sherpas, I then told Fuller to help me along, with the Cree as well. We all began to dig feverishly and arduously in a haste, and in a race of time as well. For, the snow was becoming to be burdensome on us, and darkness, was not that far off by now. As I looked up into the sky, I could see the sun now setting; and the glimpses of darkness slowly arriving. After digging as much, as we could in the way of snow from the ground with our hands, and only a sparing part of the whole anatomy of the creature, we were able to descry indeed at the anatomy, and structure of the dead body’s composition. “Is it a man?” Fuller queried. It had fur as white and ashen-pale as the snow itself; but it appeared to be human, in body formation. It was somewhat casting the hypothesis and theory, that whoever was there laying dead amongst the snow ground surface itself, was not like any other animal I had ever seen up to now. “I don’t exactly know until,” I paused before, it quickly daunted on me, that the only way that the mystery or rune itself could be solved or answer was by, descrying firsthand in person, at the countenance of the beast itself. I then quickly began to dig out the snow from the creature, who had it’s face now covered up. Fortunately for me, the cadaver was laying on it’s back; and it would not be an impediment upon me, once the creature was able to be dug up.

“What are you just a fetching to do Danishman?” Fuller abruptly inquired. I did not have time to dally with dear Fuller’s barrage of questions instead, I was fully determined to solve the mystery behind the true identity, of the dead cadaver. “You will soon see!” I answered. It was then, after having much assistance from the Cree, that I was able to at last, discover the shocking and frightful identity to the dead cadaver. Just as I along with the Cree, had finished uncovering the mouth and nose, we then uncovered at last the eyes of the creature, and there was no doubt in neither the minds of mine or the Cree of what we, were looking at. What the both of us had seen and witnessed with our own two eyes, was a monstrosity that no other human would believe. The image and the dead body that was laying on the ground surface was no other, than the yeti itself. The Cree remained still for a moment before he uttered, “Great white spirit is around us all!” I could only be flabbergasted and in awl, and left to thence chunter the words, “My God, may God have mercy on us!” Fuller then heard the commotion, and quickly ran to see, what was the whole commotion and fuss about. When he arrived you could see, the glow and radiance of glee and feeze in his eyes; for it was like if he was a child lost in a candy store on the boulevard. “Holy Jesus!” Indeed Fuller was right, and how soothing it thence appeared for the first time, to hear his euphemisms. I could wonder, what was to be done? What laid ahead for us now, now that we had located and found an actual yeti?” Was it enough I ask? Apparently not for Fuller, for he was not interested in a dead yeti; for he had come to Nepal and to the Great Himalayas to seek and hunt so, an actual living yeti, not a dead one. To Fuller, what purpose and function, would a dead yeti do for his ego? For after all, it was not stumbling upon a dead cadaver, that resembled the creature that he had sought instead it was the sport, and the game for the hunter and the huntee. To Fuller the creature was of no scientific value or worth to him for after all, he was no scientist, nor a big fanatic or loyalist of it as well.

To Fuller, the only thing which he understood whether it be behind the surface, or plainly out in the open was, the need to hunt a living yeti. I could sense that sense of anger, and birse in the eyes of the Texan. “What is it? What is wrong Mr. Fuller? Are you not content to at last, find your creature? Now, you have a trophy to collect, and to take back to America whereupon, you could hang it upon, your own living room. Is that not so?” Perhaps my remarks were condescending and sarcastically disparaging. But still I had the urge to say what I was truly thinking at the time. It would not take long for me to realise, that although he did not response to my question, just by his mere expression I could tell, that he was not pleased nor fain, about the discovery. He gained enough sense to speak, and then remark the comments, “I reckon not, there is no value in my humble opinion, to a dead yeti. I came a fixing to find myself, a living yeti. And I ain’t a fixing to leave this place, until I get myself a living yeti to hunt!” I realised that from that moment, it was pointless and feckless to convince Fuller about the relevance of the discovery of the creature, be it dead.

“Perhaps you will get your living yeti? But for now Mr. Fuller, we must do what we can to preserve this fantastic and incredible discovery. Perhaps you do not fully comprehend, nor understand, the significance and importance of this scientific discovery. And the art of science itself, but you must help me in retrieving this creature back to the village!” I then thought it wise to pamper or even so bribe in some sickening manner Fuller for I knew, that he was the key in bringing back the creature. Certainly, I would have preferred a living yeti but by all means, I was willing to settle with even, this dead body of the creature. Good God I thought to myself of what the scientific community would say, once the creature was brought back to old civilisation, and to Europe itself. Mit Gud! It would mean that I Peter Hansen, would revolutionise, the scientific community. For my name alone, would join those as Darwin, Drapper and Galton. I would thus surpass those great British scientists, and there above them all, would lay and be from amongst those aforementioned, a lone Danishman. “We need to find a way to preserve the dear creature from it being found, or covered entirely by snow!” I uttered. I was faced truly, with the dilemma of realising that either way, I was in a most difficult situation.

On one hand so, I could not take the creature back for the snow was to much, and the creature was too heavy, and could not be taken off of the snow so easily. The second thing, was that if it was left alone abandoned in the night then, there was the strong possibility, that the dear body could either be stolen, or covered in the piles and inches of snow. It was more than augean, for we would be reduced to putter at a very slow pace; for then the toils and drudgery of the task, would be almost too impossible to effectuate. It was an outstanding, and palmary endeavour to achieve. The area in which we were was no strath at all, but instead with the surrounding cliffs and mountain ridges that encompass us laterally was something in the end, that stood out than more than a mere obstacle, and impediment. The consistent thought of how to preserve and to conceal the creature’s dead cadaver was coming at me, like a barrage of bullets coming toward me. Think Hansen, think, you must think quickly! You must find a way to convince Fuller, that the body of the dead creature, was beneficial and profitable for him but at the same time, I did not want to dissuade him totally, by perhaps relinquishing his interest in staying on course, with the designed and devised plan, that I had organised! Ja, I’ve got it! I will make him see the dear importance of preserving, the dead creature. “You must help me indeed Mr. Fuller, you have alot to gain and profit in the end, by the preservation of the creature!” Fuller was a bit bemused, and so obfuscated by my words. “Just exactly what you’ve got in mind there, Danishman? You a seem, like you’ve got something, a scheming in your mind Danishman!” I assayed, to explain to him just what I was thus proposing, “Look Mr. Fuller, don’t you see that, if we can preserve this creature then, we could use the creature as bait, to bring out some more creatures out in the clear, where you could equally hunt one of them down. Do you now understand my point!” I can sense that the Texan, was indeed quite fond, and gauded about my preposition and offer. Why I could sense the effervescence in the excitement in his eyes for he seemed to be, a portrait of a joyous huckster. “Ya, I see what you mean now Danishman; and I reckon, that you’ve done found a gold nugget here!”

With the snow now incrementing and billowing in portion and amount, quickly I instructed Fuller and the men, to assist in this endeavour. “Please hurry, we must act promptly, and quickly!” “What do you want us to do?” Fuller asked. My plan was to preserve the creature, but the question was how could that be done knowing, that if left onto the ground it would be certainly, be covered up in snow by the morning? “We must make peripheries around the creature itself, and that means, by leaving behind a visible trace, in which we could easily be capable to allow us to locate the creature, in the good morning. “I don’t understand what you asking for Danishman!” Fuller responded. I immediately explained to Fuller that at once, we used boulders and rocks to build around the cadaver itself, a sort of a structure in which, the creature could be easily detected through the snow. “We must grabbed quickly some rocks or boulders, and put them around, the periphery of the creature.” Fuller inquisitively queried, “Tell me something Danishman, don’t you think, that the snow will cover up the rocks?” “Yes, but at least we shall have shovels tomorrow and by then, we will be able as well, to locate the creature and more importantly, we will be then fully be prepared and organised, to find the creatures!” I said. Quickly Fuller understood, and we all began to put rocks and boulders around the creature except the Sherpas, who were reluctant and leath to assist but after more urging, they acquiesced in the end. Time was a hindrance for even as we were indeed indulging in our endeavour, the snow was heavily coming down on us. Fortunately for us, we had enough time, to accomplish our task.

After accomplishing and effectuating our task, we then did what we all sought best to do, and that was to head back to the cave. With the burden of the snow and approaching of the night in the midst of our return, we quickly headed back to the hovel at once. I knew as the night was befalling, that the prospects of succeeding now, was ever so more real and realistic.

8:09 p.m.-Tack Gud, we were able to despite the gelid and frigid barrage of snow, make it back to the hovel with our senses somewhat all in tact. It had been several hours since our dear return to the hovel, and we had found ourselves all, hovering around the campfire, which we had been constructed for the night. “Tell me something Danishman, what you reckon you’ll do, with the dead varmint laying out there? What do you truly seek to do with the critter?” Fuller said in quite a frank but yet, astute manner. I glanced over to look at Fuller, and made mention and known of my intentions and feelings, surrounding the important discovery of the yeti. “Why I would be so remiss If I did not admit and confess to you what, I am sure that you already know Mr. Fuller. Let me tell you Mr. Fuller, that I came here to Nepal and to these Great Himalayan mountains, to not only seek and find the yeti but more importantly, to bring back a yeti with me back to dear Europe. Now that I have found at last a specimen, I am now prepared, to leave this forsaken wasteland; and return with the creature back to Europe!” Fuller could sense that in earnest, I was serious about my intention and leaving the area, now that I had found the needed specimen. But he posed onto a me, an interesting question. “You seem and appear, to want to leave already there Danishman!” “Yes!” I professed. He spitted out of his mouth, some of the tobacco that he was chewing and said, “You know truly, there is one thing that is troubling me about that thing!” “What is that one thing, that is troubling you so Mr. Fuller?” I queried. He then proceeded to ask the question, “Maybe I am a bit stupid here but my mind tells me, that it would be alot better, to want to take back with you, a lived varmint. Is that not what you scientists much call, scientific research?” I admit that Fuller the most less sophisticated and intellectual man that I have stumbled upon in recent times, posed an interesting aspect to this conversation, and upon this endeavour in itself. Why the prospects of not only discovering an actual living yeti, was indeed enticing and bewitching; and it did propel in me, the urge and crave for even more notoriety and recognition. But, there was one fundamental problem against that thought, by continuing to seek and find the creature and resuming the quest and search for an actual living creature, it could so seemingly in the end, cost my life as, it had cost the lives of my fellow colleagues both Björklund, and good Niedenbürger. The haunting nightmare of that fatal and memorable day, cannot escape me so neither. For their constant cries and pleads, still resonate in my mind. I could hear them both crying out for my assistance and see upon their face, the wretched countenances of frightened and tormented souls. “Is there something wrong Danishman, why you seem like, you a been thinking about one to many catfishes there?” I looked at Fuller and replied, “Nothing is wrong, I am just thinking about tomorrow, that is all!”

22 January-Woke up in the morning had breakfast and then journeyed back to the area, in which the creature was found. Fortunately the snow did not become a snowstorm just yet, and our good vision was clear, and though the snow was still falling and, the weather was becoming a bit cold, we still pothered. Once we all arrived back at the location of the dead body, upon our arrival we discovered, that the creature was no longer there. My only response was, “Mitt Gud!”

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)-Continued

9:35 a.m.-I could not believe that somehow mysteriously so, the dead body of the creature was gone, and that it had vanished into thin air but there would be a clue left behind to reveal, what really happened with the dead body of the creature. One which would change the course of my thinking and belief. What in the hell happened here I asked myself? I had the men quickly survey the area, and commence a search for the missing dead cadaver of the yeti. To confess that I was utterly baffled and amazed by the fact that the dead body was missing, would be simply a blatant understandment. Fuller himself was just as much so bemused and confounded, upon discovering that the dead corpse of the creature was, but gone. “Where in the blazing saddles, can that darn varmint be at?” I could only look at Fuller and respond the following, “I am afraid, that I do not know where the dead body of the creature went!” All over the area and vicinity nearby, we thus looked and searched for the dead missing body but yet, we were so ineffective in our attempt to find and locate the dead body. Just as it appeared to be hopeless, the Cree Indian appeared to quickly detect some traces of blood dripping from the supposed dead body of the creature. It was indeed a sign and trace, of the dead body it appeared. “What you’ve got there old Toot?” Fuller asked the Cree. The Cree immediately then made reference to the blood stains, and then made issue to the fact, that there appeared to be a discrepancy, between the footprints themselves. What the Indian made reference to was the fact, that there appeared to be footprints encompassing the blood stain; which was found within the stains themselves by the Cree. “Look on ground, blood is there!” He exclaimed, as he sniffed and smelled the traces of blood itself, that was found and detected by him. Apparently with the evidence it proved, that the blood itself was actually, made in all likelihood by the creature. Fuller and myself then, immediately were able to detect, that discovery and finding. It was indeed now evidently clear to the both of us, that the body of the dead creature, had been now stolen. But the question was by who? It quickly daunted on the both of us, that the culprit behind the missing body was in all likelihood, another yeti. “Why it looks like one of those darn critters, done a took the dead body away!”

It was then, that the Cree had spotted tracks of footprints and he discovered that these were recently made and so fresh. He quickly made it known to Fuller and myself. Fuller who was more of a hunter, knew about the significance of these tracks and they apparently led, to somewhere. But the question was, where to? “Holy Moses, I don’t think that we’ve done found, where the footprints lead to!” He then pointed northerly, in the direction in which the tracks, appeared to be leading toward. There was no use of standing around, and waiting for the creature’s dead body to return. Thus, it was decided and determined, that we would seek ahead and search for the creature, who took away the dead body. The snow was beginning to fall down onto the surface of the ground although mildly, it was indeed a worry for myself and the others so I thought. Unbeknown to me was the fact, that Fuller was bent at any cost of trying to find, and locate the creature. For the opportunity, of actually finding one of the creatures for sport and for the hunting, was enticing to him. It was enticing enough, to astir and awake a feeze within him. But at the moment, I failed to see that actual intention of his.

I was bit reluctant and hesitant to venture off on a wild goose chase with Fuller, but it did daunt on me that I had to not be so against the idea and the prospects of actually finding, a living yeti or more than one, was rather enticing and upwinding in itself. After it was agreed to go and seek the creature, we then headed off but I had warned Fuller, that we had to be cautious, and prudent in this search for the creature. Slowly we began to follow the footprints, but I wonder, until when would the footprints end, and what would we find in the end? From what could be seen from afar was the fact, that the tracks themselves seemed to be endless and aimless. As we treaded through the landscape to follow the tracks, the snow began to mildly increase and billow; enough to cause me some worry and concern. I could not help but wonder, about the aspect of an upcoming snowstorm or blizzard. We had travelled and trekked through the snow and followed the footprints, in an even more greater distance from our present hovel. Although, I must admit and confess that no longer would I have been content and cloy, with the mere fact of having a dead yeti. I wanted to go for the gold itself, a wretched living yeti. Much like Fuller, that had become, my goal and greedy intent as well. After another mile, we were confronted, with the realisation that the tracks themselves, had been eroded and erased, by the barrage of snow which was coming down even more. Indeed it was enough to spoil the greed of any man, let alone myself and Fuller. Fuller expressed outrage and fury, when he discovered that hard and cruel reality. But nevertheless much to my chagrin, he wanted to press on with the search. It had to be close to noon by now, and it was daunting on my head not only the time itself, but also the importance of the billowing and increasing snow that was falling that it was best, to plan ahead. I did not exactly like Fuller want to abandon the search just yet for I too, was eager and anxious to find the dead body of the creature. Fuller then along with the Cree, began to try to attempt, with their own best hunting skills, to find the creature or better locate, it’s nesting place.

But, the Sherpas thought eitherwise for to them, it was obviously clear to them, that it was best to abandon the area; not only for our safety, but the fact that what laid ahead, were steep mountain ridges and slopes so high above. Fuller rejected that theory; for to him he had a much better theory, his own. I had taken to great consideration, the Sherpa’s concern and worry but I too, was becoming just as mad and obsessed to find the creature, as Fuller himself was. “Why we’ve a got to go on with the hunt Danishman, I’ve got a good feeling, that we’re a close to snatching, that varmint from it’s den!” Although Fuller had a point, the Sherpa’s had a better point; for indeed the turrain and landscape ahead, did not offer much comfort for a mere mortal. Instead, it offered almost certain death, to a clumsy fool. “Surely Mr. Fuller given what lays ahead, surely you must come to the same sensible conclusion and observation, that it is risky and dangerous to proceed or go forth!” It was then, that Fuller vehemently resisted. I knew that however tempting and alluring it was to perhaps find the creature, the thought that I was most likely putting in jeopardy, my very own designed plan, daunting on me. By continuing to pursue the creature or creatures, it would surely make the creatures, aware of our presence; there out in the open to be seen by them.

“Come now Mr. Fuller, I want to find the creature just as bad as you do. But if we insist and go forward, why surely then, we would be jeopardising and risking ourselves to be spotted and worse, detected by the creatures themselves. Certainly, that could persuade you to not proceed!” “I can’t just let that darn critter go, when we’ve a got him or them a running, like a coat tail on a jacket!” Although it was perhaps likely that somewhere up ahead, was the domain or at least one of the domains of the creature it was useless, when what laid below us, was a massive and but haunting crevasse. It was enough, to dissuade and intimidate any sane and reasonable man. And I, wished to include myself in that category. I realised that it was feckless and useless to dissuade dear Mr. Fuller, his mind was set and bent on going ahead. It was just as he along with the Cree was about to head forward, when one of the Sherpas pointed up above, there on top of one of the mountain ridges nearby. He began to mumble in his native language, it sounded as if he had seen a ghost or worse, the devil himself. I quickly looked up, and saw there standing among the dear reflection of the fading sun, a ghastly figure who appeared to be white in nature, and so massive in size. All that I could make out of the Sherpa’s mumbling was the word, “yeti!” The figure was difficult to decipher and make out, for the creature seemed to blend and hele itself, with the huge barrage of falling snow, that pierced the ground surface. Fuller appeared to have seen the image of the creature, standing up above as well. “Is that the critter up there, Danishman?” Just as I was to address Fuller, a loud stentorian roar could be heard echoing through the valley itself. It was enough to resonate through my ears, and even into the depth of my soul, bringing a chilling and aguing feeling inside of me. Fuller’s attention was to shoot at the creature and he did, but to no avail for the creature would disappear into the midst. Fuller’s reckless shooting would infuriate and anger me, “Fuller, stop that shooting! Do you want to give away, our presence?”

Fuller then stopped his madness and glazed thoroughly into the depth of my eyes, with the eyes of the devil, and the wrath of a killer. It was difficult for him to succumb to my will and demand, but in the end somewhat for whatever reason, he succumbed unwillingly it appeared. “All right Danishman, we’ll do things your way but only, for now. For I tell you, the next time I done get a chance to kill one of those critters then, you better believe that I will try again whether or not you done, like it or not my Danishman!” I had come to know and deal with Fuller’s antics and warnings, but I did not take his threats toward me literally but still, since he was so difficult to contain and restrain, I did not feel one-hundred per cent secure, that he would not snap one day and go forth, with one of his threats. The snow billowed even more and the prospects of a snow storm was feasible, and there were telling signs that a snowstorm or even a blizzard, was but approaching. “We must go now Mr. Fuller. We must indeed return back to the hovel, before the snow becomes a snowstorm or worse a blizzard. Look Mr. Fuller, we have many days still whereupon, we could find the creature surely, that is logical for you to see!” Fuller was forced to acquiesce in the end; for the reality of the situation, was much to difficult to overcome and oversee. “I done reckon, that you’ve got a mighty good point there Danishman. And I reckon that there are many days still a fetching for me to fetch, that darn varmint!” Mercifully I accredit my wit and my dear intelligence, in swaying Fuller to co-operate. If there was at least, something to take comfort of my predicament with Fuller, was the simple fact, that I had become accustomed, to his erratic and eccentric behaviour. We then headed immediately back toward the direction and vicinity of the hovel hoping to reach it, before the snow become a blatant snowstorm or blizzard. We thus quickly and rapidly ploughed, and treaded through the snow and ice knowing, that we had to reach the hovel before the snowstorm perhaps, reached us.

I was indeed disappointed and upset about losing the corpse of the creature, and the fact that the hunt had to be abruptly terminated; but I was a patient man, and I knew fully well, that there were still many chances and opportunities yet bestowed upon us. I had come to get indeed somewhat a theory and generalisation, about the creature’s whereabouts, and about this primitive behaviour. Although it was primitive and cabalistic in nature, it did not preclude me to conclude and deduce that the creatures are quite equipped, with sophistication, intelligence which I must confess to find rather appealing, and astonishing. I could not help along the way but think, about our present predicament, the snow itself.

3:49 p.m.-Arrived back at the hovel in the nick of time for it is so apparent, that a snowstorm is about to arrive and dread I say, an outright blizzard. Thankfully we all made it, with our faculties in tact. The thought of returning instead back to the Sherpa village had been so appealing, but it was not wise, sense it meant covering more ground. And that in itself, was of considerable risk and danger. It was obviously clear for not only myself and Fuller, but to the others, that a good snowstorm was approaching. There was nothing to do except wait and thole and hope as well, that the snowstorm, would so subside dramatically in the end. Unfortunately staying at the hovel, was out of the question for the Sherpas for they strongly felt the need, to head back toward their village where they felt they would be much safer, and secure. I attempted to dissuade the men, but they would not listen; instead they ventured on back toward the village, citing their wonted familiarity with the area and landscape. Physically I could not restrain them, nor authoritatively neither for they were free to do, what they wanted to do. Luckily for us, we had enough food and supplies by our side, and inside the hovel itself. All the time that we spent on making it back to the hovel, I could not help but think about the golden opportunity, that was lost and failed to be capitalised, by the disappearance of the dead body of the creature. I could not help but think about the fact, that I was so close to actually not only examining an actual yeti but the prospect of actually, bringing a yeti back to western and European civilisation! I was forced myself like Fuller to succumb and accept reality, as it presented itself upon us. It did not take truly much of dechipering for me to see, in Fuller’s bitter and blatant expression on his face, about the anger and fury that he had, in not being able to pursue the hunt for the creature. I knew deep down inside of him, his vains and blood were boiling mad.

10:15 p.m.-The snow had become what I had dreaded it would not become a snowstorm, but not thankfully a strong blizzard. For that itself would have meant a greater delay, and a great terrible postponement in our endeavour. Though the snowstorm itself, presented the dire reality in itself, that we would not be heading out and continuing the hunt and search for the creature, at least for a day or more. It was not what Fuller had in mind to accept for he was always a fustian, and but a stubborn man to reason with but certainly the snowstorm itself, was enough to thwart off any odd idea of continuing the search, and hunt tomorrow. We had enough warmth and heat, in the way of the firewood, and other supplies warranted. We had decided that it was best not to frown and scoff at our failure in losing the dead body of the yeti, and the hunt for it. But instead, we all thus gathered around and played cards and like before, played music and sang some good old songs. The safety of the Sherpa men who abandoned the expedition, did not dwell upon my mind but it would soon present itself, in a quite horrific and chilling manner.

Just as we were all gathered around Fuller, the Cree, and myself, a sudden and abrupt event would befold upon us all; unbeknown to us at first. Out of the corner of my eye, I detected a stranger approaching moaning and agonising, in obvious pain and discomfort. At first, I did not know whether or not it was a man, or worse a yeti. I had come to stand and witness the great yeti, once before in an experience. And definitely I was not to take any risk, nor let down any precaution of mine as well. Thus, I quickly grabbed my rifle and warned the others, about the mysterious intruder, that had stumbled into the hovel. “What in the carnation, is going on here Danishman, why you seem like you’ve seen a ghost pass you by!” “There in the entrance of the hovel, there is something or someone moving, and has entered the cave!” The scant and much penumbral figure then approached further, and made his presence known. Just as Fuller, had cocked up his Colt 45, and was about to shoot, I quickly put my hand on his rifle and told him not to shoot after seeing that the mysterious intruder, was no other than one of the Sherpas who had decided to leave, and abandon the expedition. It appeared that he was most definitely injured and wounded, and his face was covered with blood and so was his hands, which were covering up his afflictions and mortal wounds. He appeared to be dying, and extremely in pain and unease. For it was clear to all of us, and to any man with a naked eye, that he had been visciously attacked and aggressively mauled by an assailant. Upon seeing us he quickly fell to the floor, and he tried to mumble or utter some words of caution it seemed. Since I was the only one who could vaguely understand the Sherpa language, I began to ask him the most important and significant question, what had happened to him, and to the others. He would compose and inurgorate, as much strength and fortitude that was possible and feasible for him to do. He looked into my eyes, like a scared and frightened child would do. His only response to my question was, that the creature had attacked him and the others.

When I pressed him on exactly what or who had attacked him and the others, he simply mumbled outloud, the word yeti! He proceeded to tell me that the others were dead, killed or murdered by the creature. Even though, there was no visible evidence to support his claim, it was plain and clear to see, that the only culprit behind these barbaric and cabalistic attacks, could only be attributed to the yeti itself. There was no doubt in my mind, that the only culprit behind these attacks, was the wretched creature itself. Not only would I come to that conclusion, but so would Fuller and the Cree. For, it was clear to us men, that the yeti had been the one to visciously attack the men, since we had had our own share of experiences with the creature or creatures themselves. Though we had yet to make firm and concrete contact and meeting with the creature, our experiences were enough to tell us about the nature of the creature. Again, we were thwarted, and shirked by the wretched creature. It had once again struck at us, and at our most vulnerable time, and moment. I had relayed the information that I had scarcely obtained from the dying and wounded Sherpa to Fuller, who upon hearing the information so, became even more passionate and hwyl, about finding the creature. “We’ve got to find that darn critter, before it goes and kills us. Why if we don’t skin the son of a bitch then surely, it will skin us in the end! My daddy once told me as a boy, that if you let the huntee gain the advantage then you’ll most definitely be, the huntee in end. And the roles much themselves, change Danishman!” If there ever was a time, or moment for fuelling and yaulding the passion and fire in the eyes of Fuller then, this was the dear time for that. He could not be such completely compromised, whilst he was in one of his furies and rages. For Fuller indeed, was too unpredictable to be, so easily tamed and dissuaded.

“Of course I do not want to see us become like this man, and have us be hunted to death by the creature but for now, we have no other choice but to wait and execute our plan. That is the only way to achieve results here Mr. Fuller. Why the snowstorm outside look, you certainly don’t expect us to go out there, when there is a snowstorm outside?” I stated. Once again there was nothing that Fuller could do, but accept and thig the present reality that was forced upon us all to accept and concede to. He reluctantly chuntered, with a reluctant smirk on his face. “Well, I reckon so then!” Unfortunately there was not much I could do for the dying Sherpa, he was doomed to death, and a daunting one. He soon died of his mortal and severe wounds, the last thing that he said, would be the word yeti. It would indeed resonate a chilling, and fearful echo into all of our ears. That night we sat by the campfire, while we waited for any intrusion from the creature with our rifles in hand; and our wandering eyes, looking straight forward. There would be no more joyous music, no more signs of frolic. Instead all that could be heard, would be the whistling echo of the harsh and strong wind, that resonated and echoed in and out of the hovel itself. It would be indeed, a sound and echo that vibrated into my ears like the devil’s whisper. I felt at that moment a certain feeling of deja vu, the same feeling I had with Björklund and dear Niedenbürger, before they died and perished.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

23 January-As I am on board of the Ralsford, I can not help but wonder, exactly of what I had left behind and what is instored, for me ahead? I have started to have a slight doubt, about thus leaving and abandoning the expedition. But for now, I must concentrate on what lays ahead for me, back home in London. The trip over the sea has been hitherto to me, quite interesting and unique for it is the first time, that I have travelled upon these waters. And indeed, this is the very first time since my trip abroad to America, that I have been so able to venture in boat. I am told, that we shall arrive sometime during the night at the port of Egypt. I spent the entirety of the day up aboard, staring at the beautiful and majestic ebbs and waves that so twirled. I spent the day, conversing in detail, with a certain gentlemen by the name of Sir Alfred Cromwell. He was quite an eccentric and knowledgeable fellow. From what he spoke of himself, he was an archaeologist who dealt primarily with the study of hieroglyphics and the Egyptian pyramids. He had generally travel back and forth from India to Egypt, and vice-versa venturing here to fro dealing, with his affairs. I had thought of revealing my secret finding to him, but I was so reluctant not knowing whether or not, it was prudent and wise of me to do that. Instead, I opted to not reveal my secret discovery to him. Nathless, we did have many things in common; and were able to have quite a charming, and amiable conversation amongst ourselves. “You have failed to mention to me, what brings you to Egypt? And incidentally you must have been on an interesting journey, for it to bring you to India as well!” “Well the truth be told Sir Cromwell, I came to India to seek for the mysterious and legendary creature called, the yeti!” I answered. It appeared that my mentioning of the yeti, brought out an intrigue and great fascination in the gleeing eyes of Sir Cromwell. “By Jove! I don’t think, I have met a man truly in quite a while, who has sought out to find the yeti!” I then explained to Sir Cromwell, about the expedition that I had been a member of and explained to him so, about my trip from London to Nepal, and the details surrounding the whole expedition itself. I also proceeded to reveal to him, about my regretful and rueful departure from the expedition, and from Nepal itself. I indeed felt compelled, to reflect as I described in details my experience.

“I must say, that I commend you for the effort that you made, and for your noble cause in the name of science. I have come across an individual, who once journeyed to Asia to search, for this mysterious, and legendary creature. His name was Sir William Coffey, a man who I am sure you have heard of.” “Of course I have heard of Sir William Coffey, why he is quite so infamous throughout the scientific world. I believe his trek for the creature happened sometime, in the mid 1860’s. Is that not so?” I queried. Sir Cromwell then proceeded to divulge to me, the year of Sir Coffey’s expedition. “I believe it was the year of 1865, that he partook on his expedition, and endeavour.” “I admire a man like Sir Cromwell, such a brilliant, and such a magnificent scientist and Englishman. It is indeed such a sorrow, to have heard of his recent passing!”

1:19 a.m.-Arrived at last to the port of Egypt and seaport city of Alexandria, just on the northern edge of the country of Egypt and on the waters, of the Suez Canal. I was extremely so tired and fagged, for my body was aching from the discomfort of the voyage, and I had fallen under truly a momentary, slight sea sickness. Fortunately for me, it was not that serious to warrant a visit to a hospital or doctor. Once I descended from the Ralsford, I said my goodbyes, to my good Sir Cromwell and asked him, for a good hotel to stay the night at. I was to but venture in the early afternoon to Greece by boat from there, I was to go on boat to Italy. From Italy, I was to travel then by train through Europe, until I so reached the seaport city of Calais in France where from there, I was to travel by ferry to England. “Well, I am afraid that this is goodbye my newly friend and colleague, Sir Cromwell!” I said as I shook his hand, in a token of good gesture and manners. He then surprised me, by offering me a stay at where he was staying at in Alexandria; thee Al Rashid Hotel located in downtown Alexandria. “You know I am staying at a mighty good hotel called, the Al Rashid Hotel. Right in the heart of Alexandria itself; and if you want I could of course, get you a room and lodging to stay the night at least as you suggest!” It did not take me long to accept his kind offer for in the end, I had no other choice since I myself did not know anyone in Alexandria. “I suppose, that you have a mighty good point there and besides, I don’t know anyone or anyone who could lead me to a good hotel around this city for I am afraid, that I don’t speak much fluent Arabic at all!” It was settled, I was to spend the night at the Al Rashid Hotel, in the heart of the city. Once we arrived at the Hotel Al Rashid, I was too spent and fatigued but to do anything but sleep; but I would soon come under the influence of some good old Scottish whiskey, and the conversation of good old Sir Cromwell. Instead of sleeping like one would think one would do, from the process of a long, and tedious trip from India to Egypt, I instead found myself sharing drinks and stories including pirate stories, with Sir Cromwell. I do believe after my tenth drink of straight brandy, I had totally so forgotten my trip for tomorrow. “Certainly Blackbeard himself a proud pirate, would have defeated the whole bloody British Armada, if he only had machine guns and much more sophitiscated weaponry, around his men. Then By Jove, he would have massacred the whole bloody British Armada, and left the king but wondering in his anger!”

After sharing these odd and old stories of legendary figures in English history, and after a couple more drinks, we soon found each other sound asleep with our heads on the dinning table, snoring and sleeping like a baby. It would be evidently clear to me, when I woke up the next morning of how dearly I was to pay for this act of stupidity and leading to the consequence of me actually, missing my boat ride to Greece. Little would I even recall nor remember, the sequence of events, that caused me to miss my boat ride to Greece.

24 January-Woke up late in the afternoon, tardy and quite late to catch the boat leaving for Greece. Unfortunately for me so, once I thus realised, and made myself aware to that tid bit of information, it was indeed too late for me to do anything so. It was good old Sir Cromwell, who awoke me and made known to me, about that particular fact. “Professor, Professor Bunbury, get up old boy, your not going to make the boat leaving for Greece!” To say that I had a little more to drink, was an understandment; for I had found myself inebriated and drenched in whiskey and like a wobbling drunkard. “What, what is it Sir Cromwell?” He then showed me the time on the clock which was in the room. “I am afraid, that the ship departing Egypt and heading to Greece, has passed by Professor.” “Good God, I must have overslept so, and missed the bloody ship!” “Indeed you did my boy!” After realising and knowing, that I had truly missed the ship leaving for Greece, I had no other choice but to accept the bitter fact and cold reality, that I would have to wait and alter my schedule and at least for the moment truly wait, for the next ship leaving for Greece. “I suppose that I have no other choice but to thole, but I wonder when exactly does the next ship leaving, for Greece depart?”

2:20 p.m.-After missing the ship to Greece, I sobered up with good breakfast though it be late and a much needed, cup of tea. I sat down at the hotel’s restaurant, which was nearby the lobby itself, with the prominent Sir Cromwell. We had quite a remarkable, and a chatterable parlay between each other mainly discussing issues of the day. Sir Cromwell, was much in nature and appearance to that of Sir Wellington; and I had come to view this man as another Sir Wellington. He was intelligent, brilliant, and above all much prominent. And much like dear Sir Wellington, he was extremely fond of long cigars for him, Turkish primarily. “So, what do you make out of these bloody Turks, they appeared to be everywhere and dominant. I don’t understand like for example here in Egypt, why the bloody Arabs don’t drive these heathens, out of their country!” said Sir Cromwell, as he sat with one of his legs crossed over the other and as he had a pant, and carried the local journal in his hand. It was quite clear to me, that Sir Cromwell himself, was not much fond or had much liking, for the Turks themselves. “With all due respect Sir Cromwell, I have found the Turks to be rather unique, and interesting people! From the little contact, that I have had, I find them to be without a doubt a forceful occupier, and army. Do not misunderstand me the Turks are ruthless occupiers, but I must confess that they are no different, than the good European occupiers of history. And I must say with all due candour, that our beloved England in itself is not excluded, from that ruthlessness and barbarity!” Sir Cromwell scoffed and frowned at my blatant remarks. “I must disagree, with your analogy and generalisation, about the Turks. I do not disagree, with your analogy of England’s bloody campaigns abroad, and it’s own colonisation. But the one thing, that I must point out to you clearly and equivocally is the simple fact, what would become of the world, if England did not bring civility and decency to the world? Why, we would be no different than the infidels and heathens, that serve this bloody Turks!”

I had come to know throughout my time, such Englishmen like Sir Cromwell, who truly justified everything that our beloved England achieved, as righteous and moralistic. But, I do not feel the need to entertain parlays, with disagreements and different opinions. I thought it better, to change the topic of conversation, by talking about something else. I was very intrigued by Sir Cromwell’s activities and work here in Egypt; in particularly, with the greatly known pyramids of Egypt. “I am extremely interested and intrigued, with your research and work here in Egypt, especially with the study of the pyramids. If I may indulge in asking you sir, could you expound on this subject?” He had another pant of his Turkish cigar, which reminded me of the cheroots that good old Sir Wellington purchased, while we were in Romania. He proceeded to answer my question. “By all means professor. As I have mentioned to you before, whilst on the Ralsford, that I have been doing research and study on the Great Egyptian pyramids, for at least some twenty years or so. And as you can see, I am a rather old man by now! But to continue, I have been along with some local Egyptian Arab archaeologists and European archaeologists, been able to decipher to some extent, the meanings and translations of the Egyptian hieroglyphics.” I then made an inquiry about his discoveries, “Do you mean exactly, that you have obtained and ascertained as well, the bloody meaning of those unique and odd symbols and hieroglyphics Professor Cromwell?” He nodded his head as to confirm the validity of his answer, “I do believe so! Although I can’t be one-hundred per cent accurate nor certain, that every bloody symbol, has been translated effectively and efficaciously.” “So tell me Sir Cromwell, how does one go about translating these strange and ancient symbols. I have often stumbled across and heard several theories and ways by some prominent archaeologists, but I must confess, I have very little expertise in that area of science. So I shall leave it up to the experts like yourself.” Sir Cromwell then revealed to me the following, “Well, that in itself is a tricky question to answer but since I have been at this for nearly twenty years or so, I can suppose that I am fully knowledgeable about this particular subject!.” He then, hawed as to reflect and cudgel his next answer. “Well as far as the analysis, attributed to the actual transliteral translation of the symbols or hieroglyphics themselves, the process in itself, is quite a simplistic and quite a banal procedure. We archaeologists, work and study and study I must say, with a deep perception and keen eye, to the many aspects of science, and of archaeology. And whilst we dwell upon, our research and our study, plus our intellect and knowledge, we attempt feverishly and arduously to achieve comprehension and understanding. And by applying these aspects and ingredients of our own philosophy and theory, we can afford to speculate and to theorise on whatever subject or study that we ourselves come in contact with be it the pyramids or even, the yeti that you were searching for. So in lament terms by studying the symbols and in this sense, with the nature of it’s contents we were able, to make sense of them. You see with the pyramids, nature can be an asset but mind me say, not in all of them for there is much work to be done, my boy!”

Sir Cromwell was indeed much like Sir Wellington, a brilliant, and a grandiose man. I wonder if he had accompanied us on the expedition then perhaps, there were have been much to learn and understand from not only having Sir Wellington’s great expertise, but having his great expertise’s abreast. “It is such a great shame, that you were not present on my last and previous expedition Sir Cromwell for indeed, you would have been quite a remarkable asset and help to our cause! I do appreciate and admire, such a brilliant mind like yours sir!”

Sir Cromwell cachinated, bursted out in a chuckle that brought out in me, a chuckle of my own. “Dear boy, you do have a way with words. I take your great compliments and great blandishment, with my own admiration. I must confess that I do myself, admire a great man like you; and another archaeologists, who strive in the name of science and archaeology!” He then asked me or posed onto to me, a rather interesting question. “Tell me something my dear boy why exactly, did you abandoned the expedition?” At first, I was reluctant to answer truly that particular question, in a much more truthful manner. So, I replied mildly in a manner in which I did not extend the truth in full details. “Well to answer the question I can only say, that I left for personal reasons sir. But if you must know, I had recently found myself stranded and nearly left to die whilst I was in the mountains. And thankfully, I was discovered by the local tribespeople called the Sherpas, who luckily were able to save me and take me back, to their village nearby. After that experience and deep consultation, I felt the need to outweigh the search for the dear creature, with my life fully intact!” “It must have been a tragic but yet, difficult decision to take and make. I do commiserate your decision Professor Bunbury!” I felt compelled to reveal my secret to him, and so I did. “I must confess to you, another reason for leaving and abandoning the expedition itself and that is one, which will shock you!” Sir Cromwell’s expression was one of dear puzzlement, “What exactly are you referring to Professor Bunbury?” I thought it be wiser, and much more prudent, to demonstrate my discovery to him in person. “Perhaps it is better, to show you then to tell you, Sir Cromwell.” I escorted dear Sir Cromwell, back upstairs to my room whereupon, I then proceeded to display my recent discovery to Sir Cromwell. I immediately brought out the artefact of the specimen of the creature, which was wrapped and concealed. “There, underneath the wrapped up cloth, lays a discovery that will certainly shock and stupefy you Sir Cromwell.” I then unwrapped the wrapped up specimen of the yeti, from the cloth which concealed it in the first place. It was then that at last the subject, could be seen so visibly by the naked eye of the professor. His immediate reaction was one of amazement, and bewilderness. On one hand, he was indeed captivated by the display but on the other hand, he did not know what to make out of what he was descrying at. I was not sure nor certain, of what his reaction meant truthfully. “Good God professor, what exactly is this specimen, that I am looking at?” I then quickly sought to clear up any misunderstanding of Sir Cromwell, by stating to him so effectively and in details, about the relevancy and identity of the object in which, he was staring at. “Let me say to you Sir Cromwell, that what you are witnessing with your very own eyes, is a specimen of the legendary creature himself, the yeti. I know that it might not seem credible and believable, but I do state my reputation and profession on the line when I tell you, that this specimen belongs to the yeti itself! I happened to stumble onto this specimen, by mere accident. You see one night, whilst I was camping in a nearby hovel, I had an intruded enter into the hovel itself whereupon I was forced to shoot at the creature, and what I had discovered, was the specimen had been sliced up in a snare laid nearby in which, it had been caught in. That is the manner in how, I had been fortunate enough, to find the specimen of the creature. I know that however mad that might so appear to be I tell you, that it is the truth sir!”

Sir Cromwell’s next expression, was one of odd ambiguity still, for the concept and thought of the specimen in which he was observing belonged to the actual yeti, was still prevalent in his mind and doubt lingered somewhat. “I still do not know what to make out this object, not so much of your story, but instead of the validity of the actual claim of yours, as being a specimen of the yeti. This does warrant of course, a thorough examination and research professor one which if you do allow me, I shall be gladly and willing, to partake in that endeavour.” I told him, that I had a microscope and plus, magnifying glass as well. “By all means Sir Cromwell. Why if you like, you may have access to my own microscope or magnifying glass to utilise at your beckon call, if you please!” He gladly agreed to my preposition, and by utilising my tools of research, he iniciated and began, his own examination and histology. Especially dealing with the fibbers of the hispid hair particles, and the flesh. I stood by, as he so commenced and worked on his examination, and the time that he had finished which was, an hour long in duration and time. I watched, and waited patiently but yet quite nervous and inconclusive as to what exactly, the dear Sir Cromwell would deduce in the end about my discovery in Nepal. When he finished and was done, I could not tell indeed completely what he had concluded for there was no telling sign nor expression, in the form of his expression. To put it quite bluntly, I have no bloody clew at all, as to what he would remark about my discovery. After a brief minute, he then proceeded to express his own finding. I stood but awaiting, “So what have you concluded from your observation, and your examination Sir Cromwell?” He hawed for a whee bit of time, making me sense and feel, that he was to lay on me a barrage of criticism and certainly I, was to be instored for a barb at least. “I would be remiss Professor Bunbury, if I did not come to tell you, about my opinion and feeling about this subject. As far as I am concern, and as far as this object is concerned, in all my years as an archaeologists, I have never found an object mind me saying to be, such a remarkable and indelible piece of artefact. Why in the bloody hell, you have found something that I don’t know if it is the flesh or hair of a yeti for I confess, that I don’t know much like other archaeologists. But this belonged to a primate or a mixture of man and ape, and that is sufficiently enough, for me to exclaim and proclaim even, that it is factual and believable!” I was of course, joyous and gleeful, to hear a man with such a prominent and reputable reputation like Sir Albert Cromwell, say such splendid and positive remarks, about the specimen that was obtained. I could not help but wonder, what would have happened if, he had come to see my discovery as a mere fraud or bogus sham. “Good God Sir Cromwell, you almost gave me a hell of a heartache sir. Why, I did not know what in the bloody hell, to expect from you. I had indeed embraced and prepared myself, for your criticism and instead, all that I hear is blandishment and kudos!” Sir Cromwell, would proceed, to rave and discuss, about the prospects of returning back to Nepal; and resuming the whole bloody expedition and trek again. And the truth be told, I was not fond of that particular idea, nor did I fancy returning neither.

“My dear boy, we must go at once to Nepal, and search for this illusive and legendary creature; for it would mean, instant success and recognition. Just think what it would mean and signify for the archaeologist’s world, and for archaeology itself my boy. Why it would mean a bundle of prosperity and importance!” I thought highly and strongly of Sir Cromwell, and I had come to appreciate on one sense, his candour and his straight talk. I had been such a starch supporter and admirer of Sir Cromwell; and great men such as his kind. But on the other hand, although my heart was telling me to accept his premise and offer; but on the other hand, my mind along with my encephalon, spoke on the contrary. I was not smickered nor glavered, with the idea of returning back to resume the expedition in Nepal and my mind is made up, I was to return to England.

“My dear Sir Cromwell with all due respects sir, I must confess, that I do not find the prospects of returning back to Nepal, a rather enticing and exciting prospect. Although I do have a part of me, that wishes that I was still active on the campaign with the others, I must be candid and frank to you sir, I do not fancy much the idea when as you have confirmed, I am quite much content and settled, with the specimen that I have obtained. Thus, that in itself, is quite enough for me. And I intend, to return back to London and to England, with the specimen that I have discovered; and soon will display it of course, upon my arrival at the historic and Great British Museum. I will make plans and needed arrangements to have this object, displayed throughout the museums and universities of Greater England. Not only London, but Liverpool, Sheffield, Birmingham, Leicester, Southampton, Wimbledon, Tottenham, Cambridge, Oxford, Newcastle, and so on. Just think of how science and Professor Darwin’s theory of evolution, would be much impacted and viewed in the end!” Apparently, my greatly enthusiasm and attempt of conquest of the London journals, would quickly be dashed and erased so, by Sir Cromwell words of reality. Fortunately for me, I was well aware and cognisant of the drawbacks, and criticism of the flip side of this discovery. “I must be candid and frank to you Professor Bunbury, surely you have thought about the other aspect of this equation and blatantly, that is bitter and harsh criticism. Surely my dear boy, you have prepared yourself for the possibility of those zoiluses or critics, that well certainly so, chastise your claim and equate you to a fraud; and equate your discovery as a bloody sham in the end!” His admission and observation was one, well taken and known to me but yet, I knew and realised, that I had hardened proof and evidence to suggest eitherwise. “With all due respect, Sir Cromwell, with this piece of evidence, surely it shall be so adequately and sufficiently enough, to disprove any notion or concept that the specimen, is a sham. Surely I realise and know, that there will many who will attempt and assay, to disprove my claim and discovery and will thus consider me an impostor or a charlatan. But I am confidently certain, that whatever shall arrive in the form of criticism, shall be disapprove by me in every attempt, and in every opportunity. That I promise and shall always attempt to do!” He then patted me on my back, and solemnly said to me, “For your sake, and for the sake of science, I do pray and hope that be the case my dear boy. I will be the first then, to congratulate you my dear boy!” I smiled and replied, “I pray for the sake of science and archaeology, my discovery, shall bring forth a wonder unknown to modern science, and to the modern era!”

10:09 p.m.-After having a glass of sherry with Sir Cromwell, he left and said goodbye. I was to catch the ship leaving for Greece tomorrow in the afternoon. I spent the remaining of the night, thinking arduously about the proposal posed to me, by Sir Cromwell himself. If there was one lingering aspect to this situation with the specimen, it was the fact, that perhaps I had lost indeed the principle and cause of the scientist in me; and had forsaken the principle of sacrifying one’s own life for the sake of science. I had taken a vow as a scientist, that I would attempt to strive and nith, in the name of science itself. I had taken to heart, the words and good advice of dear Sir Cromwell. Perhaps he was correct in his assumption, and analogy of what could become if, we were to actually not only find and locate the yeti. But to bring it back, where it would astir quite a noticeable fervour back in the scientific community. All through the night I have walked, and I have paced my room. By Jove, I shall return to Nepal and this time, I will bring back indeed, a living yeti! I shall inform Sir Cromwell about my decision and soon, we shall head off to Nepal!

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

25 January-Three days have passed, and the mild snowstorm that I prognosticated and stated, persisted for two extra days more. It left behind so, about ten inches of hardened snow and ice. Much to Fuller’s chagrin, and it was definitely much to mine as well. In the end, there was very little that either Fuller or myself, were forced to do except wait and wait. Mercifully, the bloody snowstorm had seized and mercifully, we were able to survive and make it relatively, without much true affliction, nor discomfort. Of course it was cold and gelid outside and at random, the cold air from outside could be felt from inside the hovel, as it penetrated into the hovel. But at the same time, we had become so accustomed to it, that it appeared to be innated in our genes. Today was as Fuller would say so, “A darn good day for a hunt!” I did not have to ask Fuller himself about the hunt for today, it was evidently clear and seen in his eyes so. To Fuller on the surface any waiting period was something, reluctantly accepted by him. But inside of him at the very core and marrow of his ego, he was steaming and sieving at the edges of rage and fury. The thought during the duration and ordeal of the snowstorm, was no different but the same as but, before the snowstorm. What was exactly on my mind and thought, was that one single thought and concept, of what was truly lost and what could have been, if the dead cadaver of the creature had not be stolen.

9:45 a.m..-Weather at last cleared up, whereupon the last remnants of falling snow, had halted itself. Fortunately for us, Mother Nature had complied with our demand, and request. After we had our usual breakfast, we immediately gathered up the equipment, and we were on our way to resume the search again for the illusive one. Our strategy and our plan was still to be the same. It was determined despite the snowstorm and the fact that the creatures most likely had known of our presence, it was still effective and efficacious. Despite losing our most credible and golden opportunity to at last perhaps lure out in the open the creatures, the present course was the best to take; regardless of what was lost or forsakened. Fuller had boldly suggested, that we should expand our perimeters; and then perhaps by doing that, we could cover more ground and turrain. But I on the other hand, thought otherwise. I did not in any pratical sense or manner, see the dear necessity in changing our tactics and besides as I had stated to him, we could not simply afford to lose any more men. The perdition of one more man, would result fatal, to my plan. The fear was that once one single life was lost, meant that there would surely be, much more in the end. I was not ready or fully prepared to gamble, nor risk that chance. When, I fully in concise details explained this to Fuller himself his response was, “Lamesakes, I’m a gambling man Danishman, and we’ve got to roll the dice, and hope for a lucky pair of sevens!” Once again, dealing with Fuller’s antics and mood swifts, meant employing antics of my own in this case, a sudden dose of reality. “Mr. Fuller surely you are not blind, for outside awaits us a pile of snow that one could barely tread upon; and perhaps just perhaps if we are extremely lucky, we could be able to truly plough through the heavy snow and ice, and actually achieve or accomplish, something major!” Fuller appeared and seemed quixotic and pensive, as if to reflect and ponder on the meaning and validity of my last statement which to me by all means, was quite understandable. After quietly mulling over the situation, he thought it best at least for now, to concede.

“All right my good Danishman, we’ll do things still your way I reckon!” He hawed, before he said the unthinkable which I could only interpret and understand it to be, a compliment. And that in itself, was absolutely a rarity on the part of the Great Austin Fuller. “You’re a mighty darn old unique fellow Danishman, but on the other hand, you’re a wise and bright one indeed why I but reckon in all my years of living, I’ve never found a kind thing to say about any doctor at all!” He chuckled and chortled, before he said the following. “You know what’s a strange as well my old Danishman, I haven’t up to this day had a mighty good word to say about the doctor, who pulled me out of my mama’s womb. You see to me they’re all rascals, but your different it appears so Danishman and I reckon, I like that!” 11:25 a.m.-Were forced to plough and tread through the harden landscaped of the accumulated snow and frigid ice. I wonder how long and how much, can the thick insulation of my boots last before, they wilter and erode? This time or at least for today, we could not use truly, our present position. Thus, unfortunately for us all, we were forced to take perimeter around another row of rocks much to the dislike of Fuller. After a couple of hours more, we were forced to return to the hovel, without any telling sign of success. Fuller was soon becoming, impatient and restless with our failures and lack of success. There were telling signs of that evidence; for he was not such penumbral or surreptitious about his demeanour. My legs were tired and extremely fatigued, as we ploughed, and treaded through the harden snow. The amount of the fallen snow, had thwarted and prevented us from truly, reaching our destined point. It was evidently clear to me, that there was the impediment, of the fallen snow to deal with tomorrow. I suppose, that only in time will we be able to measure definitely, the pending factors that encompass, and surround our wretched predicament.

Surely the thought of another upcoming snowstorm was one in which, I could only scoff at. I suppose, that if there is one salient thing that I can not control, it would be without a doubt, the wretched weather.

11:05 p.m.-Found Fuller and the others indulged once again, on their typical carousing, and their drinking spree. Since there was no way in stopping or preventing him nor the others in frockling, I realised that I would as usual, join in their festivities. Truly it was either that or succumbing, to the bitterness and wretchedness of the cold and frigidness, that encompassed me internally as well as externally. Whilst we joined in our endeavour, a serious thing would befold and betide, the familiar din of the creature itself. The noise or clangour itself, would be loud and stentorian enough, to resonate and echo over the very own loudness and clang, of our own enjoyment and festivities. There would be complete silence and hush, coming from all of us, inside the hovel. There would be enough silence in the hovel, to hear a dew drop drop onto the surface of the hardened ground. As clarity and sense returned to us, and our composure and faculties, were regained, the haunting and daunting thought that, the familiar cry or howl of the anonymous one once again, could be heard from afar as it entered into our frighten ears. Our jaws and mandibles fell to the ground literally, and the excitement was astirred rising the perfervid fervour and much ardent desire, in good Mr. Fuller. “I reckon gentlemen, that we’ve a got ourselves visitors nearby perhaps.” He then proceeded to say the following in eloquency and clarity, “I reckon we’ve a better welcome, and accommodate our guests!” It was then that, I interjected with a wry, and bitter irony at hand; for I sensed otherwise. I posed the question in but an almost, tergiversated manner. “Perhaps just perhaps my dear and good Mr. Fuller, you have got it all wrong and it is us who are the visitors in fact one can even say that we are all perhaps the intruders here, and not the wretched creatures themselves.” Just as I posed that very interesting aperçu and observation to Fuller, he did not seem nor appear amused nor charmed, by my grandiose remark. At the time, he was blowing another pant out of his accustomed cigars. He took another pant before, he then calmly proceeded to say, “Chucks, I reckon that I haven’t thought much, or have seen it that way Danishman. Intruders you say, why I reckon so perhaps. But that way of talking of yours, why it doesn’t fly like a spit of tobacco onto a rusty old tin cup! But, if you say it is true then, I reckon I’ll have to live with that!”

I had no rebuttal, nor did I beseech to rebuke him, I merely looked so into the depth of his quixotic and scheming eyes, and saw all that I truly needed to see in them. Fuller was not sheepish nor bashful, about showing or displaying his true emotions, and feelings. He had the distinct look and impression of a chameleon, for his colours so changed and were so ever deceptive as the night. He is indeed, a strange and eccentric fellow this Fuller. I must admit and dearly attest, that I have never really met a man like him before. In all of my years of living, he is one of a kind. However misleading or misunderstanding it appeared on the surface to be, I am quite certain itself that they are quite a sundry amount of others, who have deduced and surmised, that very own observation and opinion. From night on, there is an even more eerie, and inconsistent feeling and sensation, creeping over me more within the depth, but of my very own soul. Fuller’s words, would be the last words to be spoken for the night. There were ever so poignant and so extremely memorable. “If we don’t a find the varmint or varmints then, I must say the following with utmost discretion!” He then paused for a moment to address us all, especially myself. I out of mostly curiosity and the basic need to know, impatiently I queried with the following, “What is it, that you have to tell us about that is urgent and above all, critical?” Not only, was Fuller’s response odd and uncouth but so, was his strange expression as well. “Why I reckon that, I ought to tell you this, cause it’s been on my mind for a spell. I reckon that I don’t see any other way but, to say this!” He stared even more into the depth and core of my studious and whisted eyes, and then uttered the following to me in plain English. “You see my fellow Danishman, if we don’t a find the critters then, they will most likely, surely find us! And what that could mean in the end to us my boy, is certain death!” At first my stare was one of a blank stare one in which ultimately, left me so pensive and thoughtful for the remainder of the night. I could not help but to realise, and come to understand fully well, the significance and above all, the meaning of these telling words of his. They were words indeed to heed, and they were words that truly, resonated inside of me. I can only hope and wish, that Fuller’s tantalising prophecy or apocalyptic vision, does not come to it’s fruition. I can not forsake the thought, for it would certainly mean in the end, death to all of us amongst this expedition, including myself! 25 January-Awoke to an astiring but yet, eerie and unkent feeling and premonition. I had but thoughts of telling, or revealing this uneasiness of mine to Fuller; but I rather chose not to. We were now reduced to just the three of us, Toot the Cree, Fuller the reputable hunter; and finally myself, the great Danish scientist. There was the thought of returning back to the Sherpa village nearby and seeking for more men, but the falling snow and ice, surely impeded and obstructed that prospect. I had suggested that since we were reduced presently down to only the three of us, that there wasn’t any fantastic and great chance, to accomplish much in the way of dear success. Fuller immediately scoffed and rejected that premise and notion citing that, it would be senseless to waste a day of the week, in searching for the creature.

He was quite adamant and direct, about his words and emotions. I believe in Fuller’s sincerity and seriousness; for if it had been another man who was standing infront of him then certainly, there would be intimidation and fear in the eyes of that person but I who was accustomed to his antics and behaviour, thought otherwise. It did not take any words of mine so, to have to dissuade or convince Fuller of this for the reality outside, said it all. Be although he be a stubborn and unpragmatic fellow, he was indeed mostly, a fairly reasonable man. I suppose that one must be always careful and attentive, in dealing with Fuller’s mien. I was forced once again to explain and point out clearly and obviously, the discrepancy along with the reality of our present predicament. “Really Mr. Fuller you are a rather so pratical man, for surely you can see with your own eyes, the reality of the heavy snow outside!” Once again, Fuller had no other clear choice, but to acquiesce and accept the reality of the situation. I could tell that his obstinacy and impatience, was starting itself to billow by each, and every passing day. Like the previous day, we were so forced to alter our previous position; due to another day of heavy snow and ice. There had been a thought in my mind of postponing or delaying, the search and hunt at least, until the snow had melted quite a substantial amount. But I knew that idea, would not be fully embraced nor accepted by Fuller himself, and deep down inside by me neither.

9:40 a.m.-Left the hovel after having what could be call breakfast, and after gathering up the equipment. Thankfully, the snow during the night had melted somewhat considerably. I believe because of the rain that poured down yesterday, during the rain storm in which in itself, was a rarity in itself. The falling snow had partially, become mush. But on the other hand, it did indeed dismiss the fact, that there was still hardened snow and ice, on the surface of the rigid plateau. We were forced to dig up the snow that had gradually accumulated, if we were actually and truly to utilise our previous position and location. We had brought with us picks and shovels, despite the appearance of the melted snow. We were not guaranteed nor assured, that the snow would be in all essence, just as melted as the surroundings around the place. Once we arrived at the much appointed spot and area much to our chagrin the area itself, was still so covered up in snow but mercifully, not as much as the day before. “I reckon there’s one thing fortunate about this whole ordeal,” Fuller exclaimed. I looked at him and asked, “And what is that, Mr. Fuller?” He then turned and addressed me by saying to me, “What I was trying to suggest, was simple my good Danishman. You see that the less snow there is, the lesser our drudgery shall be!” I suppose if there was really any consolation, or succour from those words of his, was that one telling fact.

Since there was only the three of us still intact on this expedition, we would have to do the toils and labour of the digging itself; one which none of us indeed, so relished any thought of doing. But, there was no other way. After an hour or so, we were able to uncover and unhele, as much of the snow as possible. We knew of course that we would not be truly able to, dig up all of the snow that had unfortunately, been accumulated from the snowstorm. After the toil was so accomplished, we got our positions and waited, but with some degree of fatigue. As a prudent provision of ours, we had each man rotate or alternate each other as a guard. It was best to have a man always at hand, to survey the area for any possible or feasible sign, of a yeti. There was another misfortunate reality and that was the simple fact, that due to the snow left by mostly, the wretched snowstorm, it would be necessary to set up the traps again. That in itself meant, having to see and survey the landscape for any signs of deep snow and ice left. Of course if there was to be a sundry amount of falling snow still left as a residue then, without a doubt it meant, that the areas themselves in which the snares were to be placed, would have to be dug up as well. Fuller had instructed and ordered the Cree, to go and see the surface ground. “You go and see Toot, if the area where we put our traps at, is good enough to set them up again!” Fuller instructed. The Cree Indian nodded his head, as a token gesture of acquiescence, and submission. “Yes, I will go!” he chuntered. If there was ever so a brave but foolish and knave man then, this indelible Indian, was this man. In a sense it meant, that we would be separating. The thought of any of us separating, was concerning and troubling for me. “Are you quite sure that it is wise and prudent, to have the Indian split up with us?” I asked Fuller. Much to my dismay, Fuller did not seem in the slightest to be, rather preoccupied or so worried with the Cree’s departure. “Don’t worry my dear Danishman that boy there, can take good care of himself. Why I’ve done seen that boy, skin a rattler with his bare hands, and even tackle a buffalo head on. Why lamesakes, he’s a feisty one!” Just as I and Fuller were discussing the Cree, a shot could be heard from a mile away or so. The shot itself would immediately, grab both the attention of Fuller and myself. “What in the hell was that?” I said. Fuller quickly responded, for he knew, what the whole commotion was about. “Carnations, that sounded like a gunshot. Toot! I reckon that he must be in trouble. We better go and see. Why he’s too vital for me, to lose!” We both scurried and scampered toward the vicinity in which, the Cree was in. As we finally managed to make it to the area itself in which the Cree was at, we found him in what could only be described as, utter silence. He appeared to be in a trance or fixation of some sort. Fuller despite being around the Cree and familiar with his ways, was at a complete lost himself. He could not be certain of was the Cree was expressing or emoting. “What’s wrong Toot? You seem as if a cat got your tongue!” Fuller responded. There would be no real reaction coming from the Cree. Why his behaviour was still the same, hushed. “Is that fear in his eyes Mr. Fuller?” I queried. Fuller’s response was only the most obvious, “I reckon I just don’t know!” It was at that precise moment, that the Cree began to hum then chant.

He appeared to be chanting in his native language I believe. I quickly posed that question to Fuller. “What is he chanting? Is he chanting, in his native tribal language?” Fuller paused a moment as to hear, and genuinely to reflect upon the foreign words, chanted by the Cree Indian. I was forced once again, to ask him a second time. “My God Mr. Fuller, if you know what he is chanting about then, please tell me so at once!” I said in an authoritative manner. The Indian kept chanting, and Fuller remained aloof. After a minute or so, Fuller then spoke, “I reckon it must be something a mighty darn important, for him to be chanting the chant of the Great Spirit Danishman?” Fuller’s reply to my question was, “I reckon it means something; for it is rare to hear a Cree call out the Great Spirit, unless it is extremely important!” “Can you elaborate Mr. Fuller?” I insisted. Fuller appeared to be just as obfuscated as I, but to not a greater degree as I but nevertheless, he himself did not fully understand the situation completely. “ I reckon that, I don’t really have a clear answer, for that particular question. But you can rest assure, that I’ll find out!” Fuller then proceeded to wait for the Cree to finish with his chanting but I thought clearly, that it was extremely significant and pejorative, that we got direct answers from the Cree. “Why do you wait Mr. Fuller? I am afraid that, I frankly don’t understand this delay of yours!” Fuller then proceeded to say to me, “Why in all actuality it’s considered impolite and rude to interrupt an Indian, when he’s in the process of commuting with the Great Spirit!” I pointed out a reality, one in which however, blasphemous and aspersing it was to the customs of the Cree, it was vitally important and much critical, that whatever pertinent information he could reveal to us was above all, the most important thing to consider. “However insipid this might sound, now is not the time to dispense, in tribal and native cultures. My God Mr. Fuller, we are on a mission or have you forgotten that reason? Must I brush up your memory?” My criticism and flack, appeared to motivate Fuller enough or should I say, astir the fervour and passion in him. It was enough to compel him, to interrupt at once, the so-called sacred chanting of his dear Toot. “Certainly, I do understand your way of seeing things Danishman.” He then called on the Cree, “Toot old boy, what in carnations did you see? What caused you to chant the Great Spirit’s chant? Was it a yeti, that you saw my boy?” Toot halted and seized, with the chanting just like that. He proceeded to point out there up in the mountains nearby as if, he knew of what exactly he was alluding to. “There you see up there, you will find your answers!” He then proceeded to speak, in a gloss and in senseless bumpkinness. “Many many years ago, my father once told me a story, a story about the one who walks among us near the mountains. He told me that one day when the sun was setting, and while he was hunting like the mountain lion, he stumbled onto an animal, which he had never seen. He told me that, the animal did not attack him like the wolf but instead it looked at him, and then walked away. And today I have seen the one, who walks among us!” Fuller appeared to tolerate and brook the Cree’s senseless frivolity. But I, did not have the time for enigmatic childhood stories. However tactless and insolent it was to admit, my only desire and wish was simply, to find one of the creatures. Other things to me, were of prodigality and plainly, a waste of my time. “Who is the one, who walks among us?” I asked the Cree. The Indian seemed, to be quite whisted when I posed that one single question upon him. His response was rather short and brief. “He is white spirit!” Somehow apparently, my memory and that of my recollection appeared, to have forgotten that particular definition and connotation. “What does he mean by white spirit?” I deferred my question to Fuller. Fuller had no explanation needed, to decipher in all essence, the meaning of white spirit. In all actuality indeed, it was a coded word a euphemism, for the word yeti. “Yeti, that’s what the word, white spirit means!”

It was clear that the Cree Indian had indeed, seen a yeti. But the most important question was, what happened and above all, where did the creature venture or escape to? “What happened here? Why did you shoot my boy? And if you had a confrontation with the yeti then, where truly exactly did it leave? In what direction my boy?” I strongly and urgently queried. Perhaps it thus appeared on the surface to be, a barrage of continual questions and inquiries? The Cree thence, began to recall and describe to us in earnest, the thrilling and breath-taking account of his great supposed encounter, and confrontation with the infamous yeti. It almost at first appeared to be, too real to believe. And what was even more unbelievable and incredible was the plain fact, that he appeared to not have been wounded or even worse, killed or mauled to death like the others. It was indeed a mystery in itself and basically, answers in which I was anxious and thus eagerly, wanting to know. “I was digging up the snow from the ground when I knew next, that there was an animal closeby. I could sense and smell, the presence of the white spirit nearby me. It then came out of it’s hiding and walked next to me. It then came charging at me, and I got my gun and shot him, but he did not die!” I immediately queried, about that tid bit of information and occurrence. “Then where did it go, and what happened to the creature?” The Indian only uttered an utterance that was an appropriate ending to his story. “White spirit leaves, like the wind of the earth and,” he then paused a moment before he then next pointed with his right hand, the general direction and vicinity in which to him, supposively the creature disappeared to. Truly no words were needed to comprehend the Cree’s reaction, for it was obvious to what he was pointing to. but the question on my mind as well as Fuller I imagine so, was where exactly in the mountains were we to find the creature or creatures themselves? “But where exactly in the mountains can we find the damn creatures?” I asked.

The Indian would be futile in serving me any purpose; for although he had pointed clearly to the general direction, and vicinity in which the creature had vanished to, the mountains themselves appeared to be an endless row of but towering buildings. Fuller looked at me with a devilish grin or smirk on his face and said to me, “Snow’s a falling on the Rio Grande. I reckon, that we ought to go and do what’s a fitting to do!” Once again Fuller employed his familiar euphemisms and connotations, to express his thoughts and meanings. It forced me as an ignoramus, to ask him to elucidate, his rather unconventional words. “What are you saying Mr. Fuller? I am afraid, that I don’t quite understand!” Fuller’s eyes thus appeared to glow in effervescence, and in greed as well. For to him it meant, but another golden opportunity to finally perhaps, find and hunt down the illusive creature. He posed, that familiar sarcastic and self-maniacal grin on his face. “That’s Texan talk Danishman. Forget about trying to understand my way of talking now and let us instead, concentrate on finding that darn critter pronto; before it gets away!” Fuller was correct, now was not the time truly, to dwell in senseless bavardages or semantics. “Ja, your right Mr. Fuller, now is the time in which, we need to indeed concentrate and think hard about, locating the creature. Certainly, it must be wounded and that means, “I glanced over at Fuller and uttered, “There must be blood, or signs of blood at least!” My analogy and theory, seemed to arouse and even more passionate, and perfervid emotion and fervour in him. “I reckon so my good Danishman! We’ll find that varmint, like a pack of hounds would!” It would not have to take us long before, the signs of the trickling blood, would be then quickly detected and found by us. Infact Fuller quickly instructed the Cree, to search the area closeby, for any telling signs of the wounded and ailing creature.

In a matter of a minute, Toot would discover the trickles of blood drop by the wounded animal. “What you’ve got there Toot? You’ve found the varmint’s blood have you not?” Fuller asked the pensive Cree. The Cree’s answer was succinct, and to the point. “Yes, blood of white buffalo!” Fuller then investigated the discovered blood, and he himself was fully convinced, that it was indeed the blood of a yeti. “It’s the critter’s blood indeed!” I then posed an interesting but yet important question, upon Fuller. “What if Mr. Fuller, the creature is dead or has simply died along the way?” Fuller along with the Cree thought too; for they did come to share my opinion that perhaps it was most likely, that the creature was already deceased. “I reckon, that be the case here Danishman. Why from where the traces of blood appear to be coming from, I reckon to say, that the critter is just as dead by now! Perhaps just perhaps you’ll learn, to take lessons in the art and skill of hunting one day my good Danishman.” The decision was taken so, to go forth and search for the wounded and ailing creature. “What do you suggest we do then, Mr. Fuller?” Fuller’s response was, “By all means, we need to go, and find the varmint. We can’t afford to spend anymore time, scaddadling in talk my friend!” We all began to search for the ailing and wounded creature, with the Indian in the lead. We had the advantage of time and the weather on our side but yet, the actual location of where this supposed creature was presently at, was very much unclear and unknown to us. The towering mountains were of course, an hindrance and an impressive sight. After an hour passed by, we stumbled onto what was without a doubt, the wounded creature but except the fact, that it was no longer alive. There was no movement at all coming from the dead creature. To be much cautious and prudent, Fuller had the Cree checked his vital signs as if to see whether or not, the creature was truly dead. After that was accomplished, it was now safe to check and examine the creature entirely. This was of course, another great opportunity to retrieve a body of a yeti. And to me it simply was above all, a moment to seize and grasp for I am close and near, to perhaps solving the mystery behind the illusive and mystical one. A dear hundred thoughts passed by my mind, as I stared profoundly at the cadaver of the one called the yeti. “It’s dead as can be!” was Fuller’s reply. My immediate plan and presumption was, to have the dead cadaver brought back to the hovel, but Fuller thought on the contrary. “We should immediately at once, take the dead cadaver with us, back to the current hovel!” “Hold on a minute there Danishman, that idea of yours why, it don’t fly straight with me! We’ve got to go forward and look for any of the others roaming about this area!” Fuller boldly stated. Once again, I found myself between a pebble, and a rock with Fuller. I certainly did not relish or desire much at all, these bitter and quarrelsome discrepancies and feuds with the Texan. But on the other hand, I was not willing at all to forsake the chance of a lifetime in examining it, in it’s entirety. Again, I was forced to use and employ, logic and practicality in my argument of persuasion.

“Come now Mr. Fuller, if we continue with this search then surely, we will be only falling into a trap or an ambush, set up by the creatures. Let us not forget, two important things here. One, that they are very intelligent beings and second, with the commotion and the hectic turbulence that was caused by the gunshot, they are fully aware, and cognisant of our presence nearby. I am sure and certain that at this very moment, they are watching us from somewhere closeby perhaps. And one last thing my dear Mr. Fuller, have you not forgotten the most obvious of all these pending factors? Look around, we are only but three, certainly that is good enough reason to convince you and beside, we know where they are hiding at!” It did not take long or much, for Fuller to see the day of light, pertaining to this situation. Despite being another egregious and unconventional man, he was certainly a reasonable man above all. He smiled and then replied, “Why I reckon as many times before, you make good sense to me Danishman. Even a great hunter like I, knows when he is outflanked and much truly outmanoeuvred. But grant it, we shall certainly find the critters, mark my word we shall find the darn critters!” Perhaps I was taking another risk and gamble and a misleading calculation, in my analogy and assumption. I was basing my theory and my concept, on the mere precept that the weather for tomorrow, would be much more favourable, and much advantageous to us. After the decision was made to abandon the search for any other possible living creatures, we then left the area then at once, headed back to the hovel. Once we returned back to the confines of the hovel, I immediately began to examine the creature. Thankfully and much to my fizz, I had the needed equipment in the way of a microscope, magnifying glass, and medical supplies and other much pertinent objects needed to commence, and handle an examination like this. Truly for a scientist like myself, the chance to study and examine a dead corpse of a yeti, was indelible and quite so incredible. I would have preferred alive yeti, but this was a most worthy substitute. Fuller then deferred any scientific study and research to me, whilst he concentrated more in depth, on the formulations on how to actually, seize and capture a living yeti. To Fuller a dead yeti was of no pratical and idealistic value, or worth to him. To a man like Fuller, a living yeti meant without a doubt, a much desirable trophy and the allurement and recognition, that so drove and thrusted his ego. For a man like Fuller, it was the game and the prize that matter; for to him, the science and biology of the creature, was senseless and frivolous prodigality. He was in all pratical sense, a man of greed and aimless penchant. I suppose or I do guess, that deep down looking at Fuller, was like looking into a mirror, and staring at my own self standing before me. If there was ever a man who best suited my qualities and ambitions, it was certainly Fuller. Although I was not so evident, and visible with my own personal greed and desire like him, I was no different than him. For deep down inside of me, was that selfish, and egotistical maniacal desire, to succeed at whatever cost. Even if, it meant sacrifying any poor or wretched soul, along the way. I can not forsake in the name of science, and the fame and kudos that surely would be granted and bestowed to a man of my stature and position, the capture of a yeti. I can not permit nor allow the haunting memories of Niedenbürger and Björklund, to spoil and defeat my plans and ambitions. I will not brook any failures, nor would I permit anyone even Fuller and the Cree, to interrupt any of my plans for success. I am forced to concentrate if I am to succeed in my endeavour. I know that time is of importance, and significance. I am prepared for everything.

10:09 p.m.- Finished with my research, and study of the creature or specimen, and report the following with utmost discretion. The examination, lasted for two whole hours and the research and thesis, prolonged for about another three hours. My anxiety and excitement, is to know more details about the creature, particular in examining alive yeti. The answers and information, that I have obtained, are incredible and extremely fascinating. Remarkably, is that this specimen of nature, is greater even than the Tasmanian Devil or thee Scandinavian Ice man. There is still much to study and to know about this unique, and strange creature. What is so remarkable, is that the findings themselves are quite so similar, to the physicality of that of a human being. For only I and this journal, know the true contents of what is written. The following, are the reported and found discoveries, that I was able to ascertain and formulate.

Measurements of the Yeti

1. Length-2 metres and 2 centimetres in height.

2. Weight-110 kilos.

3. Texture- extremely hairy and hirsute. Fibbers of hair are delicate, resemble the hairs of an African ape, or jungle guerrilla.

4. Feet and hands-15 inches feet by feet. 8 inches in hand, extremely long and rough.

5. Blood type- Yet unknown. Insufficient data, until now to classify. Comments Creature is indeed apelike, and resembles the traits and characteristics of an ape or guerrilla. I have finished with my calculations, and measurements but still, unable to decipher or clearly resolve with clarity, the other facts of data that are needed, in these endeavours. Although I have obtained and accessed the information that I needed, there is still much more to be truly accomplished, and sought. What that in itself curtails, is capturing a living yeti! That is the heart of my plan.

(Professor Bunbury’s Journal)

25 January-Left the port of Alexandria in Egypt, and I am presently in the waters off Africa, heading for the shoreline of India. I am truly accompanied by the honourable presence of Sir Cromwell himself, who has joined me on this endeavour. I am one of the many passengers on aboard, a total of fifty I believe all heading and destined, for the country of India it seems. The passengers on board, are mostly aristocrats, and people of affairs. The name of the ship in which I am on board, is called the Explorer.

2:05 p.m.-Find myself nearing the straits of the Arabian Sea. All up to now is quaint and cozy; for I am rather fain to have such a remarkable and chattering companion like Sir Cromwell. He does reminds me in all essence of Sir Wellington, for our conversations, are indeed identical in nature, and so ironic and wry in contents. Along the trip, I have had the liberty to freshen up my memory and thought about what I had left behind in Nepal. It was mainly about my dear fellow compeers, and what I was about to find once I returned to the enigmatic country of Nepal and about, the alluring and mystical mountains of the Himalayas.

6:15 p.m.-Sunset was nearing, as the blazing and scorching sun, could be seen setting from afar. I had a nice glass of sherry along with Sir Cromwell, and found myself on the deck of the much spacious, and commodious Explorer. The Explorer I was told, was the property and possession of an English company thus, called the Pinkerton. The company, dealt with interactive trade with both India, and Egypt mainly. The empire itself, was indeed the benefactor of this so interactive trade. Although I was British by birth and by citizenship, I had somewhat come to resent truly the heavy influence, and interference by England. Sir Cromwell himself, thought differently. To him it was nothing more, than mere progress and destiny somewhat.

11:15 p.m.-Was so awakened, by the movement of the ship and in particular, the sounds of the waves. Went aboard, to take some leisure time. I happened to be so, the only lone passenger or living soul on the deck. Everyone else, was simply asleep as expected. Whilst on the deck of the Explorer, I stared ahead at the beautiful blue night skies, and beautiful moon, that so hovered by from above. The sound of the splashing and gushing water and waves, were like echoes of the night. Indeed the night was sheen, and majestical. I do wonder at times how does the earth itself, reflect’s it’s beauty and radiance onto the earth? I often wonder and believe, that there is much in life, that we do not fully understand nor comprehend.

26 January-Arrived in the morning off the shoreline of the Arabian Peninsula, and was seen but passing on the Red Sea; and ultimately to our pointed destination of India. The Explorer does travel fast; for it travels at knots much more advanced, than most usual ships. I suppose, that it is to our advantage; for surely it would mean a quick arrival, into the seaport of Bombay. The wind today is blowing and the weather is satisfactory. To my calculations I believe, that we shall truly arrive off the shoreline of India in no less, than nightfall itself. I had tea, to spruce up my dearest morning and to astir my faculties. Sir Cromwell accompanied me as before and like before, we indulged ourselves in, intellectual parlays and discussions. “So how was your sleep, from last night. Professor Bunbury?” Sir Cromwell queried. My reply was, “Well to be candid and frank my dear sir, I did not so sleep much in the way of sleep for I was awakened sometime, before midnight I believe!” Sir Cromwell then, inquired about my uneasiness to sleep. “If you do not mind, and if it is permissible for me to ask, what prevented you from having a wonder of a good sleep?” There were no real details to explain nor were there, any true words to express my clarity about my lack of sleep except to say only the truth which in itself, was not clear or much of but anything. “To be honest sir, I slept not well, due to a minor, and unimportant detail.” “And what pratell, was that my dear professor?” Sir Cromwell kindly asked. “I looked at him, and simply replied, “The wretched sounds of the boat, and the waves of the water themselves. Really, it was not really much to acknowledge except to say, that it does rather become monotonous and so tedious to hear from down below; but from up above on deck, it’s spectacular I say!” We soon changed subjects, and began to indulge ourselves, with other general topics to converse about. 1:12 p.m.-Had lunch and a glass of sherry along with the presence of my new dear friend, the Great Sir Cromwell.

We shared an interesting conversation with each other, one which dealt with the expedition in Nepal itself. “So tell me my dear boy, what do you believe, we will find once we arrive to Nepal and of course, to the Great Himalayas themselves? Surely, you must have an ideal picture of what is to come, once we arrive there?” Sir Cromwell poignantly then questioned me. I was at first confounded and truly surprised, by the intriguing question imposed on me. But I supposed, that when one is truly asked about matters such important as these then, one has a duty, to expound on his own personal insight.

7:15 p.m.-Found myself playing a good game of chess with Sir Cromwell. “I am afraid, that I’ve got you where I want you my dear boy!” Sir Cromwell professed. I could only scratch my head and admit, that I was cornered and on the verge of the ultimate defeat checkmate. “Truly it looks like that sir! I do detest and abhor losing, but even defeat is respectable and humble, when it is at the hands of a most honourable foe.” “Checkmate my dear boy!” said a victorious and joyous Sir Cromwell. If there is one thing to be learnt about dear Sir Cromwell it is, that he is a rather much eccentric man. I do suppose if one is to travel or venture, than let it be by ship most so definitely. For how marvellous the view, one obtains. (Rem-Must venture more, in ship.)

10:25 p.m.-Finishing the final touches of my last entry. I have found myself at random, thinking and hearkening back, to the fate of the others. The prevailing idea and thought, that they might be lost or even worse dead by now, is rather evident in me. I do pray and hope that for the sake of all, that there is a glimmering hope, that they are all alive and intact. I do not know so, what to fully expect upon our arrival into Nepal for the thought of coming face to face, with the illusive one, is utmost aguing. I dare not imagine, the thought of failure and above all, death!

27 January-Had arrived late last night into the port of Bombay luckily, with all my all faculties intact. I had brought the specimen with me so, along with other pertinent objects including of course my own private journal for it is there, that my adventure to Nepal is chronicled. I had managed to get room and boarding at the Bombay Inn along with my good fere, Sir Cromwell. The bed was rather quaint and my sleep, was rather on the contrary on what one would be led to believe, staid as well. Although the voyage was tiresome and I was tired, it still despite the drabs of the trip was at least, advantageous in the way of conversation. If it had not been for the dear and gracious company of Sir Cromwell, the trip indeed would have been, tedious no doubt. 1:20 p.m.-Had breakfast and a nice glass of tea to accompanied the food. Sir Cromwell and I then proceeded to, make our plans for the journey and expedition to commence. “So what do you recommend we do next my dear boy?” Sir Cromwell, asked. I looked into his eyes, and replied, “Off to Calcutta!” He paused before he answered, “Off to Calcutta it shall be!” We proceeded to make our arrangements, for this trip to Calcutta thereafterwards.

9:45 p.m.-Passed the remainder of the day, in the drudgery of our plans and preparations for the trip tomorrow. Now as I write this entry, the thought of what shall become or betide is, but truly pending on my mind. I wonder and think much of England indeed, and of my beloved Martha in particular. There is no doubt in my mind whatsoever presently is the decision, that I have indeed embarked on, is the correct decision. Though the course in which it shall take me, is still but yet, a daunting and unknown one. I shall not wilter nor falter, for my attempt must be fruitful and it must not be in vain. Whatever is to befall upon me once we arrive to Nepal, I shall have the dear comfort of knowing at least, that my cause was just and noble.

29 January-Left Bombay, and arrived at last to the city of Calcutta, sometime during the night. The trip like before on the previous expedition, was rather long and so arduous. But in the end, all was good and quite satisfactory. I do find it extremely fastidious and chary, to dwell and to indulge myself in senseless waste. Perhaps it is best left for poets such as good Lord Byron and Whitman. Whilst I was to stay in Calcutta, I sat up and designed in my mind, what was I to say to my beloved Martha. I was determined heartily as I held a photograph of hers in a small trinket that I cherished and carried with me, to send her a much needed letter. It had been a while since I last, wrote to her. I shall take the letter to the post office, before we are to depart from Calcutta. I do not know, if I shall receive a correspondence from her, or if I should ever have the pleasure of seeing my beloved Martha.

29 January-Left Calcutta and arrived at the border between India and Nepal, and soon passed the border, without any incident at all. The Nepalese, were rather strict and so reserved about Westerners entering their beloved country. But much to my amazement, they permitted us to but enter. I was told by Sir Cromwell, that once he gave the lads some materialistic goods, such as pots and pans, along with other type of objects including, some cigars and some tobacco, all was settled. I do suppose one could call it bribery or simply, good bartering!

2:15 p.m.-Had lunch in an unknown clandestine area of the country on the way to Pokhara, our final destination point. From here on, I shall seize to write in my journal, until I have but reached Kathmandu for it is better to concentrate and to cudgel, on the pending matter of the expedition itself. I must spend my time thinking, about what shall become of our foray. I wonder, what shall be effectuated or accomplished in the end? I do hope for the sake of science, that Mother Nature shall be kind to us.

31 January-Arrived in Kathmandu, the heart and capital of the country. From here we are to travel onto our final destination point, Pokhara itself, and what lays beyond it so, the Himalayas themselves. I suppose it is there, where all possible answers will be discovered, and known. The stay in Kathmandu is to be brief, only a day. Whilst we were to be in Kathmandu, we were to gather up the much needed equipment and goods, which were extremely vital, and necessary for the oncoming expedition. I was capable to catch eye of the surroundings, and environs of the city itself. Off now to Pokhara for the journey shall be long, and rather tiresome. I do fear, that this drudgery is a task, that no man truly fancies!

2 February-Arrived at last, to the remote place of Pokhara. Despite the arduous journey and travel, the travail was still to be so taken. Looking at the towering Himalayas once again, was a bitter sense of deja vu. Indeed the feeling was remarkable and indelible, even causing a tingling sensation in the entirety of my body. Once again, I found myself within the presence of the good nomadic Sherpas; and it was indeed refreshing to see the descendants of the Great Genghis Khan again. If there was one peculiarity about this unique and strange country, it was it’s stock in true diversity and difference in cultures from the Gurkhas, Hindus, down to the meagre nomadic and primitive Sherpas. We were to travel to the same village in which, I had last departed from. My heart and soul, cringed at the restless thought of the peril, and memory of close death, that I did nearly found myself, entrenched and enmeshed in not too long ago.

1:15 p.m.-After breakfast, we decided to spend the rest of the day, in deep preparation for the journey ahead. I was fortunate enough, to find the lodge in which I first met Professor Kham, and was mercifully regained to full strength. It was but a coincidence that my fellow good friend and colleague, Professor Kham was present, and on hand. Indeed it was good to see my dear fellow compeer again. We gathered all around Sir Cromwell, Professor Kham, the Sherpas, and myself of course around the campfire nearby. We were all seated, so abreast to each other. “So tell me something Professor Bunburry, what brings you back to Nepal after, what you had stated to me before?” Professor Kham truly, was more than surprised to see me again in Nepal, he was more puzzled and befuddled. He did have reason and inducement, to be surprised for I had told him upon my departure from Bombay, that I was yearning to return back at once to England. I sighed for a moment before I acknowledged my penchant to return. “I have returned to Nepal, to once again resume my search for the yeti!” Although Professor Kham, may have not fully understood my desire to return and seek the yeti, he was never one to quarrel or wrangle, about one’s own principles. “I believe that since the yeti is a scientific cause then, to not study and examine it so, would be unfair and so impractical to impede, or dissuade. But I must point out one thing, in life itself generally, preservation and conservation, must never be forgotten nor forsakened!” The Professor’s words were of course, words of reflection and to take heeding. But as I pondered and cudgelled his pensive words, I could not whittle in my mind, the objection to the question. After all for the sake of science, it was only the correct to do. As I sought to answer his question, Sir Cromwell proceeded to offer a straight rebuttal. “With all due respects, my dear Professor Kham, surely as a man of science and as a scientist itself, the need to discover, and know outweighs all that stands before it. Certainly you must concede to the thought, that no dear impediment must forsake science itself!” I was not certain of what Professor Kham would reply in return, but I knew whatever reply he would give, would truly be one in accordance, with his nature and deep-rooted beliefs. “You present a good point in argument Sir Cromwell, and your point is valid and genuine. I do not argue your point of view, I simply convey the thought of the cycle of nature itself. You see Sir Cromwell, there is much to be learned so, about our ways of thinking; for the Buddhist way of thinking, teaches us to respect the cycle of nature itself!” Sir Cromwell, quickly prepared his own rebuttal. He was ready to invoke and elicit his conviction and perception.

“Perhaps it is wiser and better, to not intertwine nor mix religious dogma or doctrine into science for Darwin, so elicited that objection. And he proved that, his concepts and analogies, were indeed correct and actual. Surely that in itself is enough to accredit the argument of science. And besides Professor Kham, Budda himself sought for the enlightenment of humanity. Then I must query, who are we to truly reject that theory!” Indeed Sir Cromwell was an excellent debater; for his words were hardly so rhetorical, and mere rhetoric. But Professor Kham was never a man, to underestimate or doubt. He was not a man to fire up a sermon like an indomitable Sunday preacher, but he always had a bloody good rebuttal, which was always reflective. Professor Kham, was of course a wise and prudent man. “It is true that Budda sought for the enlightenment of humanity, but he did not seek to disrupt it!” At first I had thought that Sir Cromwell, was quickly going to respond, but he did not instead he chuckled and said, “Perhaps the truth itself, lays amongst our answers.”

9:46 p.m.-Body is tired and fatigued, for the journey from Kathmandu was long and tiresome; and the trek tomorrow, shall be even more I am afraid. The feeling of deja vu is one, that lurks amongst the back of my mind for I do not know, what is to be expected. In this one predicament, words are not empirical nor is a whimbrel needed. The night shall be short and chet, but the days ahead shall be long and shank. The thought of failure twists and twirls the depth of my brain. I must reach and obtain success at least, for the sake of my dear profession. Cheer up my dear boy, you must not be so down on yourself but instead, much more uppity and clear-minded I say.

3 February-Woke up prepared and yare for the events of today, and of the days ahead, shall be chronicled in the depths of my own private journal. I do not know what is to become of my dear journal, for I often at times certainly wonder, if it shall be of any great worth or value, if the dear creature is not located and then brought back to London. “Are you ready for the trip Professor Bunbury? I am sure and quite certain, that the expedition shall be long and difficult. Is that not so old chap?” Sir Cromwell queried. I could only profess, and confess the same, “Indeed, the expedition shall be long, and quite difficult!” We were about to leave the great accouchements and confines of the village, and were ready to embark on the journey of a lifetime. I felt like a child weaned from the wombs of his mother, with utmost uncertainty and doubt. I imagine, that drama like this, is perhaps best left for the many in the theatre.

9:45 a.m.-After we finished breakfast and had tea, we at last headed off into the eerie depths and heights of the Himalayas. They were mountains of course which were, long and extremely vast and tall. As I once again stared and profoundly looked into the Himalayas themselves, I could not help but be impressed and without a doubt, enthralled by it’s remarkable appearance and shape. Indeed Van Gough, would have found this place to be paradise. I can not help but think, about the present situation and location of my dear mentor Sir Wellington; and my fellow good compeer Professor Walters. I hope and pray, that luck and the almighty, are on their side. The weather today is rather receptive and tame, but there are telling signs of course, of it’s possible changing. Do not be mistaken so, it is still cold and dank up here but compared to other bitter frosty days, it is relatively quaint and mild. If there is one thing, which is to our advantage, and benefit from this wretchedness it is, our determination and knowledge. It is indeed an asset and a benefit, which we dearly shall behove, and crave.

1:20 p.m.-Fortunate enough to have started the trek from where and whence we started. I was content and glad, that I has at least a slight knowledge and recognition of the area in particular. At whilom, the feeling and thought of being here, was one equal or so equated in my sense of a miff, to a slip on the Royal Court watching a drama or a play, preferely that of Dickens’s Oliver Twist. I often thought that by coming here and being away from London itself, was like wreaking or inflicting punishment onto me. I can not fashion nor wrought that idea, for it would only put me in a shell or shuck. We had made it to the location in which was best suitable and proper for the stay for lunch. I had the strange feeling that be it somewhere around the area, we would find the illusive and enigmatic one!

Our conversation was rather so interesting and so unique. I sometimes believe, that Sir Cromwell could be a stealthy and guileful man, but he exudes on the contrary. We talked and prated about an array of topics, but mainly we conversed about the matter of our search for the creature.

10:05 p.m.-No hair or hide of the yeti. We looked and searched the area and vicinity thoroughly, and found nothing; no visible sign of the creature. Perhaps, I must not be down on myself. For although we did not find the creature nearby, there is still as it appeared to me to be, that there was much work to do and to accomplish. Sir Cromwell made the observation that the search for the yeti, would be one in which would be so difficult and above all, challenging. But he did state and mention to me as well, that it was not an impossible endeavour or task to fulfil. I do suppose from his prospective, it was all a matter of time and above all, damn good luck. Must sleep now and be ready for tomorrow’s quest.

(Professor Hansen’s Journal)

29 January-Several days have passed, since the Cree’s experience with the yeti. Fuller had gone back to the village and recruited more men, this time we were to have a crew of but eight men in total. I do not know how Fuller was able to convince them to join the perilous expedition, but I am sure that Fuller thought of how. Fuller was so certain and convinced, that he had found the seclusive, and furtive den of the yeti and so did I. I knew at last that the mountains in which the Cree had been pointing to, was the paradise that I sought to find for truly. The lingering question in my mind was, if this was the exact nest of the creature then surely it meant so, having to deal with Fuller in the end. We had made a pact or a treaty of sort, that once we were to locate the creature, it was each to his own to capture and do what was he thought was fitting to do with the creature. Once Fuller returned which was sometime in the afternoon, we were off and once again on the prowl for the creature. Fuller was so confident and sanguine, that he was on the verge of actually finding the yeti. “I reckon that this be my lucky day Danishman, for the thought of that varmint being under the barrel of my gun, tickles my toe!” This time, I felt that I was so close to actually capturing the creature as far as dealing with Fuller and the others, it was so insignificant for the time being. Unbeknown to Fuller and the others, I had planned for their death truly, in particular the death of Fuller. It was one in which regrettably, I did not want personally much to indulge myself in; but nevertheless it had to be done. I knew that it was either him or I for I also knew, that once Fuller had the opportunity and chance to hunt the creature, he would surely kill me and that I was not looking, forward to. Fuller’s excitement and feeze, was evident and clear to see in his eyes for they so resembled, the eyes of a madman. But deep down I realised, that perhaps he was no worse of a madman and lunatic than myself, since I had truly planned this to befall? The weather this day was somewhat mild and calm, but nevertheless the frigid cold, and snow was still evident and a witness, of our daily affliction. I was fortunate enough to not have any serious illness, as for the others, I did not care so long as, they were able to assist and help contribute in the hunt. The truth be told, the only necessity and inducement I had with Fuller and the others was the simple fact, that I needed able men to find and then seize the creature. I was not concern with the Sherpas for their allegiance to Fuller, was questionable. I realised that the Sherpas, could be swayed by the influence of materialistic goods. As far as the Indian was but concerned, he was of value to me, after the creature was seized. If he could not be persuaded in the end then, there was no real other option, but to kill him along with Fuller. Once we arrived at the mountain location that the Cree had referred to as the den of the creature, we were thence confronted with the reality of how to actually climb the long, and dangerous curvy mountain. I had devised a plan in my mind one in which Fuller himself agreed and accepted. The plan was mostly a deep thought suggestion, but one which was pratical. But the Cree did not fancy that concept of mine for he thought, it was too errant. He instead persisted that we take another route, one which was more safer and wiser. But it meant in the end, it would be risky and dangerous; and the prospects of sleeping on the floor of the ground within the comforts of a much needed hovel, was in question. Fuller had no objection to that plan, but I did. I felt that it was much too slovenly, and risky to go the Cree’s way. And I was sure that my way was the best in the end. “We must do things my way, if we are to reach the mountains in time and capture one!” Fuller rejected my premise and instead, insisted on the Cree’s way. He proceeded to pull out his Colt 45 and point it directly at me, as if to threaten me.

“I’m a mighty certain Danishman, that it is best to go my way, instead of your way! Do you have any objection?” It was the first time, that I felt Fuller’s threat was legitimate and real this time. Since he had found the supposed din of the creatures, he was now confident and austere enough to threaten me and thwart off any signs of inferiority to me. He had so withstood my criticism, and my authority opposed over him until now; for hitherto he was now in charge I felt. I realised, that there was very little that I truly could do but to accept his dominion over me, since everyone around me and Fuller, had no true allegiance and troth to me. I had so thought of compromising with Fuller like I always had done, but this time, there was no way of compromising, and negotiating with his intelligence. He was bent on doing things his way, and so that I was certain to heed his words, I soon felt the barrel of the Cree’s rifle behind me, pointed at my back. “Well Danishman need I need to ask you again?” I hesitated for a moment, before common sense prevailed at least for nonce. “No, no objection taken at all! We shall do things your way now Mr. Fuller, I believe, that we shall go the way of the Cree’s suggestion!” I could tell that I had lost my influence and power over Fuller, and it quickly daunted on me that for the moment, he was in charge. “Good my fellow Danishman, now that things are in order, and you know who’s in charge now then, I reckon we best be getting on our way up those mountains; since we got plenty of daylight left!” He then, made one last warning be known to me, “By the way my friend, if you try any sly and deceptive trick then rest assure, I’ll kill you on the spot! Comprende!” I could feel Fuller’s threat and dire warning as he breathed cold air onto my face, like a smoke of cigar. My initial and immediate reaction so, was to kill him first but I realised one, that I was outnumbered and two, I needed Fuller and the others to help me capture the wretched creature. Now was not the time to think on how to kill Fuller but instead, in how to capture the creature. Although I was of little value or worth to Fuller hitherto, he still strangely enough found me valuable. Perhaps he felt that only I had the knowledge in dealing with these primitive creatures. Perhaps deep down in his mind and ego, he could not capture the creature without my assistance or aid at all. If that was to be the case then surely, I had the upper hand then in the end. There was time to deal with Fuller later on, but at the moment my mind was concentrated on locating the yeti.

As we began the trek, we found ourselves staring and gazing at the long and steepy mountains, which resembled a hell hole. What was quite certain, was the fact that from now on, climbing up to this high altitude, meant that one wrong step would lead to instant death without a doubt. Slowly and cautiously we climbed, I knew that the Cree’s way was too risky in the fact, that the creature would be able to spot us; and the risk of that, was one in which I did not fancy much at all. Fuller had mentioned to me, that we would not be stopping until the dear creature was found; but I pointed out to Fuller verbally that his suggestion was mad; for it would forsake our well-being, and in particular mine. But nevertheless since I did not have clout over Fuller, he flatly rejected my argument and concern and stated to me, that it was best that I kept up. “Well my good Danishman let me tell you, that if you are concerned with your health then, you best climb down and head back toward the village. If not then I suggest, that you keep up or else, you’ll find yourself deep down in the crevice, below with one of those rocks down there!” Fuller was no longer to be compromised and reasoned; for he had the power and control now to deal with me, and as I stared down below at the pitfall of hell that faced me I realised, that there was nothing that I could do. Fuller was mad all right, and he was leading us to a path of suicide. I knew, that whatever faith was to befold upon me, it would only be at the present course, apathetic and perfunctory to my cause. Fuller’s treachery, and perfidious demeanour, could only lead me into the pits of hell itself; and a foreseeable condemnation. Hitherto, dealing with an unrational man like Fuller, was to be indeed, a rather hard task to so endure. I had to scheme, and plot a plan in which allowed me, the opportunity and chance to reverse the great dominion of power from Fuller to me. That of course, was an aegean and arduous endeavour, since I was so outnumbered in arms and possibly in men. Though there was the possibility of swaying and swooning over the allegiance and troth of the Sherpas, who I felt were only faithful and loyal to Fuller, due to the tactics of bribery. Perhaps just perhaps in them, laid my golden chance to succeed.

Naturally it meant tasking a most perilous and much precarious risk, but nevertheless, it was one that I had to take. But for the meantime, I was to be acquiescent and quite mollified, in defiance and mien. Perhaps in the depth of Fuller’s mine, existed the same vizard of mine, a malignant and swart guise. We had been climbing the dangerous slopes of the mountains which appeared to be akin to a fjord. Fuller was knave to believe in the Cree’s plan, and he was the foolish and fatuous one to approve it. But I was willing to risk all, for the sake of the capture of the creature, which meant to me in the end instant glory and fame; kudos which would surpass the great names of modern science, Weissman, Darwin, and even my fellow countryman, Niels Ryberg Finsen. In my sweven, I had seen the fame and glory, that tilted a tir indeed for me. Unfortunately for me, the swink of the journey, swithly grasp reality upon me. “Where exactly are to we rest for the night Mr. Fuller?” I beseeched him. Fuller’s desire and penchant, was swinish and hunnish; for he did not care much about my condition, and status for to him, the only thing that lurked and skulked in the depth of his mind, was the hunt for the yeti itself. Fortunately for me, I was rather eidetic to his antics and way of thinking, so I realised that if I could somehow discover a way in which he could rely on me, I would ultimately be able, to switch the power struggle. “I reckon that we have to find ourselves a place in which to sleep but for now, we best be heading straight, for daylight is still upon us!” I suppose, that at one moment in the conversation, Fuller was but human, and not a phlegmatic fellow. Perhaps there is still a weakness in Fuller, and I must seek that weakness and frailty for then, I will be able to pounce on him like a tiger! I do wonder in the end who is the stoat here, I or Fuller? Perhaps in the depth of our fulginous and murky minds, existed a fugue, which was concealing and eloigning our currish fears.

9:48 p.m.-At last we rested, but the cold and frigid air of the mountains, was even much more frightening and daunting. For the more that we climbed in altitude, the more colder and danker it would be in the end. It was indeed a fleying prospect to find oneself intertwined in. “Why it is mighty colder, than a winter storm back in Colorado. I reckon that we best be stern in our dear conviction, and be much more aware of our surroundings. We best hang on to our blankets and extras; for from here on, the temperature we’ll be mighty darn cold I reckon!” Fuller admitted. I then in turn stated to Fuller, that the temperature would indeed drop, and the precipitation would be even worser; for from what I had heard about this particular area of the Himalayas, hail was indeed a strong possibility.

“Your indeed correct my good Mr. Fuller, and it will only get worse so I suggest, that you think hard about the direction of our trek for are we to endure in the end, that is the question?” Fuller seemed rather so taken by my poignancy. “What exactly are you referring to Danishman?” I then decided to not precipitate any part of hostility in him, and decided to be more pacified in my explanation, “I only meant, that we must be much more cautious and wary, in the following steps that we are to take for from now, there can not be anymore mistakes, or blunders. Any mistakes from here on could mean disaster, and be costly indeed to all of us!” Perhaps to Fuller my comments were to stern and flinty. But he laughed and fleered as if, he found my comments to be rather amusing. “My dear boy, I reckon that you haven’t been around, to many hunters before; for I’ve already had that thought in mine my boy! And I tell you that whatever is to befall upon us, it will not be disaster. The only disaster that shall befall, shall befall upon the varmints themselves I tell you!” To Fuller failure and fizzle, meant nothing or were but a farthing to him. He was a man who I compared to an English king, mired in demiurge. He was not a proper and feat man but nevertheless, his ego and self-maniacal ways, were the prime description of him. The night was cold and frigid, and the pallor of my wan and gaunt cheeks, quickly drained the warmth of my body.

30 January-Was awakened to the reality, that over the night one of the Sherpas, had taken ill, and he was in a most feverish and febrile condition. His condition was so terrible, and he was suffering from frostbite, and from pneumonia. To a shrewd, and such hellcat man like Fuller, a sick and ill man meant little, except nuisance. When I asked of what was to be done for the man, he simply uttered in a most vulgar, and raffish manner, “Why I reckon, that we’ve got to leave him!” I had myself come to feel this nefarious and evil thought also; for to me any sign of cursed malaise to a man, was to be forsook in the name of science, as long as it was not my own life to be forsook. I had very little need for Fuller and the Cree, except to use as a scapegoat in the end. If there was one quality in which I badly so sought in his service, it was his expertise in the art of the hunt itself. The bitter landscape of the night was horrific, and indelible in nature. The cursed and wretched temperature was below zero, and the windshield felt even more. The altitude was close to four thousand feet, and the air was short and thin, and it’s affects could be so felt upon one’s own lungs and vertigo. The howling wind and the cold draft, were enough to thirl and to pierce, my skin like a whetted blade.

8:40 a.m.-We had left behind the comfort of our tents, and made shaft huts and then proceeded, to resume the search for the creature. It was the first time in quite a while, that we did not take shelter nor comfort in a hovel or cave but instead, in the open space of the vast landscape of the area itself. The previous night so, had each one of the Sherpa’s along with the Cree, rotating in guard all except myself. Perhaps Fuller had seen me to be a civilise man, and not a savage like the Cree or the Sherpa or simply put, he felt much more comfortable with me around so he could monitor my every actions. “We best get ourselves a going now Danishman. I fear, that the search shall be a long one indeed!” Fuller was indeed correct in his poignant, and direct assumption. It was most likely to be a prophecy and at the same time, an anathema for us all. I knew that I had to play my cards accordingly, and that meant being cloyed somewhat, but never skewed to the ways of Fuller. “Naturally my dear Mr. Fuller, let us be on our way!” It was truly a test of wills between I, and the shrewd and cunning reputable hunter. I was quite determined, to not be that quite flexible and lissom to his every command; for his beckoning hest, only applied to the need that I had in finding the dear creature. And that was something in which I had hope it would be temporary and momentarily. I had not envisioned nor foreseen myself, fettered and shackled under the bondage of his self-maniacal sinew and control. Once again on those wretched hardened rocks and boulders; for the landscape is extremely rigid and the turrain up here although there is some flat plateau, is less than laodicean and lukewarm. Luckily we had the proper gear and equipment, to climb these desolate and horrible mountains; but nevertheless, the question was more of endurance. Were our bodies still able to continue, and climb and climb away? Or were we to be simply another casualty of this expedition? If it was up to me, I surely would have preferred to see Fuller be one amongst those, already dead and left behind, for the maggots and worms that consumed the flesh of one. “Mr. Fuller, since you are the one as you say, with the cards in hand then, I would like to know just where in the damn hell, are you taking us to!” I was fed up and upset, with the progress and the hectic toil, that this senseless climbing and toiling had brought upon my aching and ailing body. Perhaps out of mere fatigue in my part, I lashed out at him in conviction. Fuller appeared to be more than amenable and burthed to my outbreak of intolerance, and thought it right of him to mock me.

“Why my dear Danishman, you appear like you being eating to many of those Mexican Jalepiños. Why I reckon the next time you taste some of those, you will invite me!” I did not find Fuller’s ill miff to be gracious and receptive, instead I frowned and scoffed at it; but nevertheless there was very little that I could do but, to abject. Perhaps deep down in my mind, it was better to be rude and intolerant, and not let Fuller imagine it any other way. Perhaps just perhaps that in itself, could give me the much sufficient time to wean and to nurture an idea, to regain control again from Fuller. Naturally of course, it was indeed to be a risky and most perilous chance, that I had to take. Truly there was no other option presently but that. Thus I imagine that for now until I can regain control from Fuller then, I must be his serf and slave. We searched and searched all over this damn wasteland and yet, no clear and visible sign of the bastards. I wonder in the depth of my mind, just how could that be, if there was a ninety-nine possibility, that this was the cradle and nest of the creatures then how could it be, that we could not even locate, not even one of this clever creatures?

11:15 p.m.-At last we rest truly, and my body especially my aching toes, are glad to be resting and acquiescing. This madman Fuller, will surely kill me if the creature or the cold does not. I could not help but spent the entirety of the day, devising in my mind, a sure way in which I could regain control of this expedition. It was clearly to me, that Fuller was leading us toward a dead end of a corner, and toward a lingering and terrible death. Although the Cree was correct, and that this way, was the most safest and correct way, it was also the most desolate and despairing route that any sane man could ever follow; for the landscape here was a foe, and it was but a pitch-fork of a devil. The thought at last entered my mine, and it was one in which I had thence previously thought of, the confidence of the Sherpas. That in itself, was the key here. If I could sway their allegiance from Fuller to mine, than I could for sure, be in control of this expedition once again. Even if it meant in the end, disposing of Fuller and the Cree then, that was to be so. Perhaps I was the madman in the end, and not Fuller! But if I was to make a pact with the devil in order to capture and bring back a yeti then, I would give my soul to him in a dear heartbeat. Niedenbürger and Björklund, continue to haunt me periodically!

1 February-The month of February has arrived, and still winter is upon us, like a pack of wolves. Still, we tread and plough through the mountainous landscape, in an attempt that seems futile, to find the menacing yeti. The air gets thinner, and the cold gets colder. There are signs of a hectic snowstorm ahead in these upcoming days; for there is also the danger of avalanches occurring. I fear to say so, that unless I can change the course in which previously we are in then, my plan appears to be in jeopardy and in extreme danger. I wanted to explain to Fuller that perhaps this route was the most safest to take, but when I made my calculations aside from the fact that my route was more dangerous, and was much more less time consuming than the Cree’s way, Fuller did not agree. I began to feel that Fuller was starting to become more edgy, and more irascible as well. Little by little my plan was, to drive him to the boiling point, were he would self-destruct; and lose his composure and then lose ultimately his control on the rest of the men. If the Sherpas had seen that he was starting to unravel at the seams then, they would surely abandon him, like two-scold orphans. And in the end they would see me, as their leader on this expedition; and quickly turn their allegiance and troth to me, and not Fuller anymore. I knew that was of course, my only chance to regain control of the expedition. I realised fully well, that I was playing a game of poker with the devil, when it came to my plan with Fuller. There was always the risk, that if he was pushed far to the extreme, Fuller could see the day of actually killing me, like one of those helpless animals, that he so proudly prizes. When it came down to it, that was the only rational and best option that I had. The dear alternative was naturally to do nothing, and either die what I fear under Fuller, I would most certainly find myself. To do something that maybe in the end could end up, costing my life as well. My plan had backfire, when it came to perfecting my plan, once we had come to find the nesting place of the creature. I had known all along, where this place could have been so for Nidenbürger and Björklund both knew, of this so-called din of the creature. But neither one of course actually discovered the place and importantly, were able to live long enough to be on another expedition. I knew that compared to Fuller, he was the lesser of the two evils. I had planned for his death in several scenarios. One, that he would either die due to the cold and frigid temperature, or the steep mountains themselves. Two, that he would die under the hands of one of the creatures. Or the third option, that he would die at the hands, of a bullet of my gun. However evil and malignant that seemed to appear to most human beings, either way, was acceptable and preferable. But since the Cree spoiled my plans along with Fuller, swaying the Sherpas to come to my side, was the only feasible option that I had. I knew surely that if I had come to defy and challenge Fuller’s authority, he would most certainly kill me on spot like a bandit. And that was something that I was not forlornly keen, nor amenable to. For that idea in itself, was enough to convince me to not physically defy but to instead, use my scientific, and intelligent mind, to defy him mentally. After all, I was more superior to him, in intelligence and in wit. He was indeed much more dominant and superior physically than myself, for he was still a young buck and I was, but a man pass his prime.

The other pending factor remained the same, I was simply outnumbered by the odds of seven to one. So I suppose that when one is so badly outnumbered, he is left only to accept the reality of which, befalls upon him dearly. But on the other hand the odds themselves, could change within a flick of the eye. That was of course, if I could sway and convince the Sherpas and just perhaps the Cree as well, to abandon Fuller’s direct command and authority.

8:58 a.m.-After breakfast, we once again resumed the search for the yeti. I could sense in the eyes of Fuller, desperation and uncertainty. He becomes much more doubtful and suspicious of the Cree’s guidance, and accuracy. He appears to be softening somewhat on me for I do find himself, asking me one question after the other so, pertaining to the whereabouts of the creature. But yet he is subtle and discreet when he talks about the creature’s whereabouts, as if he did not want me to know, about his insecurities. He shards and seres like a pretty flower; for I am certain that his shrewish mien, shall forsake him in the end. With regard to the creature, I shall find him even if he takes me forever, to find the wretched creatures. “Where next to Toot, why we seem to be going in circles here, upon this darn mountain. You sure boy, that you know where your a going?” Fuller inquired of his beloved Cree. The Cree began to look around in particular the environs of the ground, whereupon he began to sniff the snow like a bloodhound, looking for any tracks or traces of the creature. It was then as we looked on that the Cree, would stumble upon the sight of footprints but this time unlike the previous, they were multiple and not just but one. “Over here long hair!” The Cree uttered. We immediately then headed over toward the tracks, and saw indeed the multiple tracks of the yeti. “Lamesakes, we’ve done got ourselves more than one set of footprints. We must be close Toot! Where they at boy, where’s the scent coming from?” The Cree proceeded to tell Fuller and I, the direction which he thought the scent, was leading to. “White spirit, goes in that direction up ahead!” It was news to my ears, for I felt that at least with the dear evidence of the multiple footprints that were found, that the Cree had some relevancy behind his words. Fuller’s anxiety billowed at the prospects, of finding at last the creature or creatures. “I do hope your right there Toot!” If this was the golden chance to find the nest of the creatures then, I was willing to truly forsake any greed in my part for nonce. “Well it’s high-time, that we go and fetch us a yeti. I reckon that if the almighty, shines some sunlight on us this day then, we could forsake the cold, and go and fetch a critter!” To say that Fuller was mildly enthuasitic, was a dear understatement. There was no cold or freezing temperature, that could impede Fuller’s feeze. He was jaunty and modblyssend as ever. We proceeded ahead with the knowledge of what we knew with the odd traceable footprints, but there was a much even more evident obstacle to overcome. What just exactly was that obstacle one would asked? The fact that the mountains up ahead, were even so much more steepy and risky. It was indeed a dire reality and prospect to tackle, but to Fuller it was nothing more but a piece of cake for to him, this was all part of the challenge in itself as he would mildly state. “No mountain is greater than the great Austin Fuller. Chucks, I done overcome all the greatest feats of the earth; and has always come on top in the end!” I suppose that one would be truly sick of Fuller’s ego, and haughty arrogance but since I was always well accustomed, to those foibles of his, it did not nerve me or make me riley.

I instead took it, with a grain of salt. Perhaps the more daunting and aguing sight of the menacing mountains did not faze Fuller but to me, it was indeed chilling enough, to make me reluctant to continue with the foray. But in the end, I had no other option, but to continue with the expedition even at the expense of my life possibly. I did pose that danger and risk upon Fuller, but he would only reply, “I reckon that you’ve got a good point there my fellow Danishman, but if those darn varmints upthere don’t come down to me then, I reckon I’ll have go to them!” Fuller’s madness, and ill thinking was contagious for although I myself, would have never planned a climb that we had to endure, I myself was willing to forsake anything at the cost of trapping and bringing back a yeti. Even it that meant in the end, my life! It was suicide to go up even more higher, for the mountains around us, were much more steeper; and much more dangerous as well. If the cold temperature and hardened ice and snow was enough to serve as a deterrence then, certainly this was by all means. At this point any true rationalising with Fuller was basically useless; for he was fully determined to find and locate the creatures. As he stood in awl of the mountains scheming his plans to reach the summit, or near the summit, I on the other hand, began to set the motions of my plan into effect. This was truly perhaps the beginning of the moment, to utilise my wits and persuasion. I knew, that I had to sway the minds of the local Sherpas to come to my side but in the end I waited, until we would find camp and retire for the night. It was at that time I felt, that I could iniciate, and commence the first steps of my plan. We found ourselves climbing even more than before, and suddenly it happened, tragedy befell upon us. As we were all climbing up the steep and rocky mountain, a sudden avalanche began to fall upon us all. The avalanche itself came roaring down, like a wild mountain lion.

It happened so fast so quickly, that it was certain, that we were all going to die and perish into the lorels of history itself. “Avalanche ahead!” screamed one of the Sherpa men, in his native tongue. Unfortunately for him and some of the others, they would perish so, under the massive amount of thumping snow that would cover them from head to toe. Miraculously I was not one of the casualties, but God be so, Fuller was amongst one of the falling men. That itself brought a tremendous alleviation and relief upon me. I had felt at last truly, that the burden of trying to find a way to dispose of Fuller was over; and though I had come to respect and at times see him as a loyal fere, he was nevertheless to be but another foe to confront. I was able to hide underneath a crevice, sheltering myself from the massive onslaught of snow. It was a miracle that I along with some of the others survived. Perhaps it was because we were in the back and the others including Fuller, were infront. Little would I even fathom, that Fuller’s greed and reckless and cabal mien, would lead ultimately to his downfall. As the avalanche subsided, and we the survivors were thus able to climb out of our shelter Toot the Cree, immediately went over to try dig up the body of his beloved Austin Fuller. I meanwhile, looked on with a malicious grin. Perhaps at this point, all remnants of my sanity had wiltered away like a flower. And all that I was left with, was nothing more, than a mere hardened shell of who I was. The rowen of this event was that Fuller was dead, and the moral of the story was, do not be so stubborn, and ruddy in the end! Our journey was a game of life and death, and in Fuller’s case, it was death itself that befell upon him, like a thundering bolt of lightening. I felt pity, and rue for Fuller and especially the Cree for after all, Fuller was a good companion of his despite the fact that Fuller himself was a bigot, and a most intolerable person toward those who were not as Fuller would say, “White skin, and deserving of our attention!” The Cree asked for my dear assistance but I quickly pointed out so, that the amount of snow that had covered the good Mr. Fuller, was excessive and above all, skirely too much to overcome. “Look my dear fellow, your Mr. Fuller is gone, dead I am afraid. There is no use in trying to dig his body out from the snow; for he along with the others, are six feet buried!” After a while, the Cree finally thence accepted the reality of Fuller’s, and the others death. He began soon, to chant a crying song, or a death song; as he mourned for the lost, of his dear companion Mr. Fuller. It was of course, quite an unique and touching scene, for it brought human emotion upon me at that moment. But I quickly dispelled any frivolous or senseless emotion, and instead substituted it, with rational and logical thinking. It was simply put, not the right time to be humane.

10:12 p.m.-We made camp, and mercifully and fortunately for me, I was able to convince the Sherpas along with believe it or not the Cree as well, to be interested in the expedition. For the Sherpas, it was simply a matter of survivor for we were too high up for them to return, and they feared that it they were to go alone, they would certainly indeed, perish. But the most impeding hindrance was the fact, that they were lost and astray and did not know, how to get back down the mountain in a safe manner. As far as the Cree was concern, it was entirely a different matter in itself. His reason for staying was more of revenge for unbeknown to me was the fact, that he was bent on killing the creatures, out of mere vengeance. Perhaps it was mad and crazy of him to be thinking in that such manner. But as long as I had him to assist me on this expedition then, it did not matter what reason he had in staying. The only true problem that I faced now, was that I could no longer simply retrieve and head, for the course that I had suggested for it was too late, and too risky also. The snow was starting to fall down, and the cold temperature was becoming unbearable; along with the high altitude. I found my ears somewhat fretting, and with a tingling sensation to accompany it. Although I had worn thermal clothing, nothing from here on, could be of much comfort to say the least.

2 February-Today was post mortem Fuller, and I woke up with the most bizarre and the most dreary nightmare. I dreamt that I had seen Fuller in the midst of the covering snow, calling out for my assistance. It was reminiscent, of the constant lingering nightmare of Niedenbürger and Björklund. I woke up with a cold sweat indeed. When I was awakened, I began to hear a loud chanting sound nearby. It was Toot the Cree, who was chanting again, perhaps out of respect for his beloved good friend, Austin Fuller. But there was something different, about his appearance. He was drenched in war paint it seemed, from face to torso. He appeared to resemble, an Indian on the warpath I believe. “What’s going on Mr. Toot?” He was solemn and hush somewhat; for he bore, a serious and austere look on his face. He did not reply at first, but he gave a somewhat resembled squall, before he then screamed. I immediately sought to quell his clamour. “What are you doing, don’t you realise, that any outcry could be heard by the creatures?” He appeared to not demonstrate any emotion at all for he was fuelled, with fire and apathy. He had the look of a killer in his eyes. “Today we shall find the white spirit, and kill him. This is indeed my word Mr. Danishman!” 9:25 a.m.-We left the auspices of what one could say our shelter, and started with a passion in our eyes, for the search for the yeti. Although Fuller was no longer to be dependent upon, I still had the resource in the Sherpas, and the Cree, to continue with the expedition. Hitherto, I was now in command and in control of the men, who were at my beckon call and hest at least, for the meantime. I would have preferred, to have return down the mountains and head off for the other course; but it was too late, for the mountains were too steepy and much jagged for us to attempt another route up the mountain again. The possibility that perhaps none of us were ever to return back down the mountain, and to civilisation again, was but a most witter likelihood. If it was up to my velleity, I would rather perish in my attempt to find the creatures.

Even if that meant truly losing my life, in the end. There was very little in the way of surviving up here, no tarns, and no vegetation, no nothing! It led me to the question of how could then, these bizarre creatures live, in such wretched conditions? Perhaps there in itself, laid the mystery. There in an abditorium, was the den of the creatures. I was very keen and trenchant, not to be lured nor trepanned, by the creature’s wit and intelligence. Now was the time to be shrewish, and quite cunning ourselves. If we were to find the creatures, than surely we had to be much more vulpine, and shifty then them. Now was the time to be scampish, and scabby ourselves. As we ploughed ahead, the one constant thought in my mind, was of was I to wilt and die in the snow like Fuller? Or was I to either die at the ugly ruthless hands of the barbaric creatures themselves? Deep down in me, there was this dastardly feeling of cowardice in me. I could not admit to be wreyful, and was somewhat, a scaramouth. But I believe the urge and desire, to find and bring back one of these creatures back to great old civilisation with me, was a much more stronger desire than anything else. My hands and feet are once again close to frostbite, and I am as pale and white, as the candescent snow itself.

1:19 p.m.-After searching aimlessly and endlessly for the creature, we rested and took shelter although, it was still daylight. The sun from this altitude, appeared to abandoned us; and the dark and dank skies, were enough to thwart us off. The fact was, that we were all tired and fatigue, and needed much needed rest. But the Cree Toot was the exception; for he was vigorous and strong enough to carry on. Unfortunately for me, the two remaining Sherpas, were but ailing and wan. They apparently had succumbed to illness itself. They were in no condition whatsoever to continue with the expedition. The Cree had left my sight, and vanished it seemed. I rashly then, sought to find him. Our camp itself, was nearby a pointed and jagged groff. “Toot, where are you at?” I uttered. There was no response from him at all. Infact, he was gone; disappeared in the midst of the mountains themselves. Suddenly I heard a loud scream from afar, and it resembled the cry of Toot. It was enough to sway me to the conclusion, that the creatures had killed him. I ran back toward the camp and when I returned, I would be shocked in discovering, the mutilated dead bodies of the Sherpas. Their torsos were ripped, and their organs were torn wide open. As I stared at the horrific scene, that laid before my eyes so, a loud roar could be heard coming from behind me nearby. I immediately grabbed my rifle, and turned the barrel toward the direction of the noise; but soon the noise was coming from every direction. As I stood there, I immediately began to run and run I did.

7:35 p.m.-It has been nearly seven hours, since the Cree disappeared, and I had found the old Sherpas dead. Sunset was befalling, and nightfall was soon to come. As I am presently but here writing, I am confronted with the reality, that I am all alone and barren in this wasteland. I am also surrounded by the creatures, and my feet are writhed, and my hands and body are numbed to the full extent of almost, not being clearly able in feeling them. Despite these wretched, and fowl conditions; and the wretched predicament that I am presently in, I am still yaulded at the prospect of being so close. And that in itself, is enough to keep me alive. But I must query to myself, will my will and excitement be enough to keep me alive in the end? I must continue with the search and expedition. I shall not forsake the chance of a lifetime, for fame and glory, is the fuel that drives my madness! I shall not be cloyed, until I have reached my ultimate goal of thus finding the infamous yeti. If I am to perish, and this be the last entry of my journal then, let it be known that I perished, in the name of science. For Peter Hansen, shall be known as the greatest scientist in the history of Denmark, and in the world for that matter!

May no man ever know the truth here, that my attention was to find the creature, at the cost of any one’s life even that of Sir Wellington, Professor Bunbury, and Mr. Fuller, who I deceived in making them come, and search for the creature when I knew all along, that it was highly unlikely, that any of them would ever return. Perhaps my madness and insanity truly, has forsaken my duty, as an honourable scientist! I can hear at times, the creatures astirring about. Let not my search for the yeti be invain, and let not me be clasped in despair and death. I think I can hear the creatures nearing, must get my rifle and be prepared for the creatures. This is truly perhaps, my last entry of the journal? Must go now! Farvel min vener! Goodbye my friends! (Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

3 February-I was awakened once again, by the bitter cold and snow, that slightly began to fall upon us. For this day so, was to be I hope not like the others, unproductive and fruitless. After breakfast Sir Cromwell and myself, were able to roust amongst the men, fervour and a feeze. I could tell how much of a clout Sir Cromwell had with the men, for they admired and respected him dearly although, he was practically a stranger to them. He was indeed a cog in my mind, for his qualities and thews, were that of a strong leader. “Are you ready today my boy? For the old foray shall be long and arduous again.” My reply was less than jaunty, and more fallow indeed. “By all means my lord. I am as ready as ever!” Sir Cromwell detected preoccupation and a gall in my eyes. “What is troubling you so my boy?” My thoughts were indeed preoccupied, but they were justified. “I am afraid that I must admit and confess my lord, that your are correct in your analogy. There is indeed something puzzling me at the time!” Sir Cromwell then inquired, “Well my boy, what is it?” I then told him of my worry for my dear fellow companions and colleagues, Professor Walters and above all my mentor, Sir Wellington himself. “If you must know my lord, I was cudgelling in the depths of my mind, the thoughts of the whereabouts, of my dearest two friends, Professor Walters an American archaeologist and of course also, the Great Sir Alfred Wellington!” “Do you still believe that somewhere out there in this vast land, they are alive my dear boy?” Sir Cromwell frayned. I felt that deep inside of me, there was still a lingering chance, of them being alive and well. “I don’t really know how to answer that question my lord. I believe in my heart, that they are still both alive and well, but in my mind, I can’t come to believe that they were able to manage to return back to the nearest village!” Sir Cromwell then put his hand on my shoulder as to console me with words of comfort, “Cheer up old boy, I am sure that they are doing fine, and who knows, maybe they have found the yeti already? And are waiting for us to find them at a nearby village! Look chap, we are here in the middle of nowhere, but at least we know of where the village in which we left from is. And I am certain, that there are several other villages, spread amongst the areas of the mountains.” “Perhaps you are right Sir Cromwell!” Sir Cromwell then changed subject, and reminded me, of the expedition at hand. “Come now my dear Professor, let us not forget about the expedition. Is there no vim and verve in you at all my boy?” Sir Cromwell had a good point indeed. I had come here nearly two months ago, in the search of the greatest missing link ever the yeti, and I was not ready to quit, nor return indeed, empty-handed at all.

“By Jove, you’re right Sir Cromwell. I have come too far, to not find the bloody creature. I will not return back to England, until I have found the wretched yeti!” My comments brought out a guffaw in Sir Cromwell, “Great Scot my boy, that’s the way to talk now! Now, let us go and find the yeti!” 9:16 p.m.-We made camp nearby a flattened area of the region. We rested and had a nice glass of sherry, which the good Sir Cromwell was able to bring with him, upon this journey. Strange enough, Sir Cromwell offered some of the Sherpas, some sherry as well. It was indeed an odd feeling for them, for most of them, sherry was unthinkable and unimaginable; for it was never so presented to them before. After having a fine taste of it, they were smugged with it’s rather so extraordinary taste. They were not shy nor abashed to hum it’s good taste. I suppose if one is to find himself within the confines of a harsh and brutal landscape then, by all means it is best for him to spruce up the joy in one; and sherry is quite a good way to spruce, and enliven any sane man. “They appear to be gay and happy indeed, Sir Cromwell!” “It’s not shabby indeed, for sherry can spice up the gaiety of any man, even a scamp for that matter!” Sir Cromwell, facundly spoke. “Do you believe that these chaps could come to love tea truly, as much as they love sherry?” I inquired. Sir Cromwell, let out a guffaw again for he chortled, and then said, “These chaps could go amuck, and in a ruck, they would be rousted by some good old Scottish whiskey! Why, I just happen to have a nice bottle of Scottish whiskey on hand, here in one of my bags indeed!” Sir Cromwell proceeded to grab from one of his bags, a bottle of Scottish whiskey which was amazingly, full to the brim. “Here we go, direct from the highlands of Scotland itself; Dundee to be precise!” He then threw the bottle to me, whereupon I caught wind of it’s authenticity. “Good God my lord, it is a dandy indeed. Why I see that the date is 1745! Where exactly my lord, did you get this bottle of whiskey?” He then rapted in huddiness, “Your indeed correct my boy, it is from the vineyards of Scotland’s wonders!” One could not find a dull and monotonous moment with Sir Cromwell. He was an unique fellow, a thamaturge deep down? After we had some whiskey, we all gathered around the campfire of the camp to stay warm. Of course Sir Cromwell, had one of the Sherpas posted as a guard. Since we were venturing more and more into the depth of the yeti’s den, it was only natural, that we would be on high alert in case one of the creatures appeared, on the scene. “So tell me my dear boy, what got you interested in archaeology?”

It had been quite a spell, that I had even indulged myself in knowing exactly why I had, truly got myself intertwined in the field of archaeology. “It has been a while, since someone has posed that one question to me. But it would be foolish and foppish, if I did not acknowledge I suppose my true ambition in becoming an archaeologist. I have always been a rather much storrath fellow since childhood I suppose. I believe to be exact in answering that question. It is because of adventure like yourself I imagine, is what steered me onto this profession!” He then concurred with me on that notion. “By Jove, your absolutely right in that analogy old boy!” I had come to see alot of similarity in Sir Cromwell so; anent to that of Sir Wellington himself. “Let me tell you about an adventure I once had abroad in the island of Crete in the dear Aegean Sea close to the country of Greece itself. I was there, searching for the infamous Troy of Homer. I had happened to get a good tip that the city of Troy, was located on the island of Crete itself. On my expedition, I had a local Greek archaeologist by the name of Yorgos Stonoupolous, join me on this endeavour. We searched for days and weeks for the illusive and enigmatic city of Troy, but unfortunately for me and the good Greek professor, we would be left wondering if and where did it existed! I had sought out for the glory of finding a gem like Troy, and in the end but, I left empty handed. It was my first expedition, as an archaeologist. But luckily for me, it was not the last. And in due time so, I was able to assist in the discovery of a lifetime, the Great Egyptian pyramids!” (Sir Bunbury’s Journal)-Continued

5 February-It’s been several days now, since we left the Sherpa village and headed out once again, for the turbulent landscape of the mountains. This expedition so far, has been quite truly identical to the previous one; but if there is a small measure of consolation it is, that I at least did have the company of the honourable and prestigious Sir Alfred Cromwell to spend the time thus prating away with. We had calculated in advance of the duration, and the supposed location of the den of the creatures. But yet there was a lingering and skulking hindrance and impediment of a thought. And that was none of us except with expectation of Professor Hansen, had any true concrete and firm knowledge, about the creature’s den. The irony in it all was the simple fact, that neither Sir Cromwell or myself, were actual true pathologists and biologists for we were two simple archaeologists, who were at this point in time, only adhering to speculation and to theory. Perhaps there so lays the pathos of it all. Sir Cromwell, has despite the failures of these recent days in not locating the yeti, remained dwelled and drenched in his concentration and dedication to seek and find the creature. On this particular cold and dank day, I found him to be so rather meticulous in his ways and chary as well. I believe that faith is best served to be put, in the dear hands of the brilliance of Sir Cromwell. He appeared and seemed, to be rather pensive and thoughtful duly justifiable, if I should admit. “You seem rather thoughtful and mixed in deep concentration indeed my lord! Certainly overintellectual mind like yours, takes a rest once in a while!” I made the comment. He indeed appeared to be pensive, but it was duly right and so thraf. “Don’t mind my way of thinking old chap, you will soon come to be accustomed to my indifference!” He went on to tell me at length and arreche to me, the calculations and analogy, that he presented to me quite so thoroughly. He was indeed rather meticulous and specific, about his details and his accuracy, was rather much impeccable. It was indeed an honour to be in the presence and company of Sir Cromwell; for he was a big wig so, and a man who was well disciplined, much like another familiar great man of science I knew, my dear Sir Wellington. How rashly my turn of thoughts changed then; for the lingering thought of my dear good mentor Sir Wellington and naturally, the whereabouts of my American colleague Professor Jack Walters, were consuming my thoughts now. The skulking thought, was of what truly became of them. It was not out of the realm of possibility, that they had returned to civilisation and to Europe, and had managed to bring back with them, a fossil or best, a living actual yeti! “What is it old boy, you appeared to have awakened with a moroseness, and sense of sulleness?” Sir Cromwell queried. “It seems that I have forgotten about your perspicacity, and intuition my lord!” I remarked. Sir Cromwell chortled and snickered somewhat, for he was well versed at times in dramatics.

Despite his advancing age, he was rather so cunning. “I suppose I can’t fault you; for your ingenuity is rather striking my boy!” We had so advanced quite some distance ahead, with the hope of course, of finding the bloody creature. Our present course, is much distant and far, from the location of the nearby village from whence we departed. It was thought, that we would not stray too far away from the closest Sherpa village at all, but much apparently our plans would be deviated somewhat. Although we had not progressed, we had deduced that it was too early to give up easily. After all, it would only be belittling my attempt. How cold it feels, but at least, I have the comfort of the shimmering sun for the day, but for how long I dare ponder? From all the telling signs of the last few days, the dreaded weather conditions, seem to be insinuating that another storm is ahead, and that we best be so ready and yare for whatever it may bring, and unfold upon us.

5:00 p.m.-Returned back to the camp sight, and I was concealed in the fidget; for I felt that there was much more to contend with aside, from the hectoring and irksome weather. But, something else indeed. I was much more concerned, with the possibility, that perhaps we were foppish to believe, that the creature would come to us or be so easily, a host to receive and wine us all. The landscape all around us, was forlorning frore and gelid as well. I need not to eloign this eldritch feeling and sentiment; for it meshes me completely. But yet, I knead in me a most than knotty arrangement in my thoughts. I could not help but to pother in this persistent thought of wretched uncertainty. It dithered and lathered me, to the full extent, that I felt a twinge of helplessness in me accordingly. I do not keen nor lament completely, my jaunt to this forsaken, and wretched heave of snow though it jows, and prongs me daily. But surely, the toils and moils of this foray can only ramp upon me, a muffled fear. Nevertheless, I was at the bloody lenity of the things in which I had truly little grasp or control of the weather, and blistering snow and the bloody and wretched cold. “What’s wrong my boy, all day you have been, a rather pensive chap? I must admit, that presently I do not quite know what is troubling you truly, but it must be something, that you have given quite a good thought to. So I suggest you do not beleaguer me, and tell me what is on your mind presently?” I took a deep sigh before I replied, “To be honest and upfront my dear Sir Cromwell, I often wonder and even ponder about, the predicament and situation in which, we are in my dear lord!” Sir Cromwell was not a man to be so easily dissuaded, and dejected neither for he is a feisty man indeed. “Come now my dear boy, you must be more optimistic than ever. Why you can’t be so easily depressed, or waped with the fording. We’ve come too far now my boy, to give up now. Chin up now, and be a soldier now old chap. You’ve got to be more inclined to not be so stirred up in fear, or worry. Instead, you’ve got to have the thought of success in your mind!” He then grasped his fist, and then with a round of conviction and passion in his veins he thence, uttered in a vociferous manner, “By Jove! We shall succeed in this endeavour lad. Why I haven’t bloody come here to be frightened off, by Mother Nature herself; or any damn creature!” I was quite impressed and overwhelmed, by the urge to go on with this expedition regardless of what impediment or hindrance, befell upon us from this point on. I rose to my feet, despite the frost and rime on my aching feet and writhing face, and was soon wrapped up, in the feeze of good conquest and success. “By Jove! Your right Sir Cromwell. Success shall be at our beckoning. I can taste it now!”

10 February-Another day has passed, and as with every one of these wretched, and prolonged days, the days and nights are without a doubt, extremely cold and unfriendly. I can only continue to wonder how much can we continue to the thought of success when all along, we have seldom found much in the way of evidence of the creature; not even a single trace of footprints, nor hair samples. It is as if we are tracking a old ghost or wandering spirit. Perhaps a wandering nomad more. I shall not succumb to this unweetingness so, but uphold my continual forbearance. Sir Cromwell, had devised a new plan. It was indeed to be, a rather striking and clotty change of plans. Sir Cromwell had offered, to stray from our previous course, onto a much more distant and astray course it seemed. We have at this point in the expedition, strayed even more further, from the village in which, we first began this most recent trek from. Perhaps it is a senseless gamble in his part. But at present course, we were heading nowhere except, in circles. The insinuation was perhaps mad and whistol in the minds of most, but I had thought otherwise. I had deduced and come to the conclusion, that this change was necessary in the expedition. So we headed off, and went forth, more further into the depth and core of the Himalayas. There was concern and preoccupation in the day for apparently, the much foreseen and visible snowstorm, came upon this day unfortunately, much to our chagrin. “Cursed it be it looks as if, Mother Nature herself, is grumbling about!” Sir Cromwell muttered. His stance was not mere bravura but instead, something much more so profound in meaning. “I concur with that statement of yours my lord, but what are we to do next?” Amid of the oncoming snowstorm, was the bathy beacon that was necessary in this situation indeed. Sir Cromwell then said accostly, “We can’t go on, I believe what we need to do old boy, is to seek shelter at once! We’ve best be a clipper, and not be so therred in anything else!” We managed thankfully to locate a nearby hovel, but what was becoming apparent was the fact, that the more that we treaded upon forward meant, that there were lesser caves or hovels to seek shelter from. It would be, a foreseeable shortcoming.

8:35 p.m.-Fortunately, we were quite so dodgy, to shirk the torment of the snowstorm outside; but it did not witterly impede or hinder the ravaging cold, that persisted inwardly. Such indeed a debauching affliction. The wind was feverish and the cold, was ferouche and feral as an untamed animal. “The snowstorm is rather hectic and turbulent my lord, I only hope that it shall subside and cease in the end. Shortly, by all means I prefer!” Sir Cromwell marsed. There was dander in his eyes, as they demonstrated his conviction to see the expedition to the end. My body dirled and shivered mostly, due to the cold and frore, that was quickly thranging the spores of my skin; and through the thick layers of my clothing. If it had not been for the wood, that we had managed to scrum up then, surely we would have felt the wrath of the snowstorm. The camp fire along with the hovel, were our saviour at least for this pending night. At this point in the expedition, I was becoming more and more champing, and restless. I was not cloyed nor agroted, with this less than bullish predicament I had found myself in. I was becoming quite churned, and quite so enmeshed in this clatter. I sought not to cocker myself, in a worthless tripe. I felt, like a cluck gone amuck amongst a tramble but yet, it was disheartenily. “Cheer up my dear boy, we should in a matter of days, find in earnest a shred of evidence of the creature, if it is the last thing that I do on this earth!” Sir Cromwell emoted. I then in return, posed a question onto him one which, was rather candid and upfront.

“I do not mean to frown upon your optimism my lord, but I must certainly query what if, we can’t find the yeti, and fail on this endeavour? Why surely, you have thought of that at least once?” He then politely and yeomanly evoked and elicited his opposition, toward my continual negativity. “Enough Professor Bunbury, in all my years as a scientist, I have not found one I do repeat one, that did fall short of zeal like you!” I took to a grain of awareness, his emphatic and compelling words of admonishment and straff.

14 February-Several days have passed now, and the turbulent snowstorm mercifully so, has subsided and ceased to exist. Graciously it passed us by, but not without truly, leaving it’s true distinguishable remnants behind, as a token of it’s ferocity and brutality. It was indeed, a bitter reminder of the reality that laid upon, these forsaken mountains. Much forwon of the heavy snow which fell during the snowstorm, there was little in the way of our expedition to be profited thus from, upon this unforgettable day. Sir Cromwell, had acknowledged to me, that if the day was salvageable tomorrow then, we will surely resume the expedition expeditiously. We spent the day mostly playing cards or chess, despite the cold and so frigid weather outside. Compared to other harsh and bitter days, the day was at least mild and tamed in comparison. But nevertheless, I did not take comfort in that small amount of difference. Through the desolation of my heart, and the isolation of my body somatically, I longed and fancied, for the hectic rambles of London; with all it’s turbulent wrorings. At least it could save me from this insanity, and allow me to flee and escape, from this silence, that encompasses me daily whilst I am here so high above. As I found myself standing upon the edge of a mountain ridge I envisioned, my salvation and saw clearly the distance of the barren wretchedness, that was all around me engulfing me and slowly consuming me, like a swinish serpent or the devil’s hand of lesser lenity. I dread not think of what shall bestow upon me and the others, in the following days ahead for at this point in time, only the comfort of my journal, and the thought of my beloved Martha, keeps the flame burning in my lattern. I shall try to stay steadfast and mettlesome, amid this continuing phantasmagoria. May God preserve my will and my desire!

15 February-Upon this early winter morning we set off, for what could be called so poetically, “The surge of desperation, and paradise, where the angels roam invisibly and unseen; and the sun reflects man’s sanity, and only in man’s hysteria, does he find what he is searching for!” I had not been much of a scald in my life, but upon this occasion, I had somewhat moulded my thoughts much more, than mere simple creativity. I had heard so much of those great explorers who’s success, did not compensate for their failures nor supersede, their misery and whanse. I find myself now, mired so deeply in little faith and confidence for Sir Cromwell, is much of a worthy and dignant man, and he needs no one to bolster up his vim and verve for the search. He had told me today, that we are getting closer to finding the creature and he seeks my assistance, and commentary daily. He trusts my instincts more, than that of the Sherpas themselves. Perhaps it is due to the simple fact that we are Englishman in blood and in birth. And our opinions and analogies, are much more superior, than the shoddy minds of the locals? He speaks eloquently of his knowledge of archaeology for I have no doubt, that he is a connoisseur and expert of this field in science. He knows his thoughts well, as I fear mine. Perhaps my bravery has abandoned me and forsaken me, like the difference from night and day. I do not make my swivels known to him much, but he detects them so easily it appears.

Plough and plough through the snow we did, and with every step that I took, a pound of lead in my feet I swore I carried. My feet continues to ail, and ache in writhing pain, that feels like pointed jags pronging at me daily. I wonder is this man’s sense of adventure, or it is man’s sense of stupidity? Egad I say, how vile and mean is Mother Nature for she spares no one, and gives preference to no one neither! Sir Cromwell is determined and certain, that we shall come across the yeti, and in particular it’s den. Our direction seems risenlick, but I seldom wonder if despite the luxury of a compass, and the disposition of our noble Sherpa guides, is it enough to thwart off any doubt or uncertainty? Miles and miles ahead we go, and miles and miles behind us we sloven, like sloths and slovenly mammals. There is no sight of the yeti, nor of what is more important to know, no nearby villages nearby. The weather has indeed thrown us off even from, the bequemhood of retreating so easily from whence, we began this expedition from. I dare not utter that we are lost and forsaken, but if my voice does not vociferate it bloody be, my mind will surely! Are we to be destitute within our stupidity as human beings; for what purpose except that of humanity and the approval of science? Is this the noble and great cause, that bestows upon us this grandiose duty of honour and prestige? 16 February-We made camp and so sprawled amongst it, like a pack of wild dogs hovering in masses. I say that with all frankness, and not mere trifleness nor whimsy. “Cheer up old boy, let your creativity and imagination, perk you up!” From what I can analogise, and surmise about Sir Cromwell, he seeks no bulwark nor behove, from any mere mortal. He is ocane and wise, as a Greek philosopher; and he is so very mulish and stubborn, in his perception and thoughts. He would be right and fitting, for any man’s guest list. Why I have heard him rave on, how he had dined with the likes of Queen Victoria, and members of the parliament. I do not cast aspersion on him for that for au contraire, I rather respect him, and find him to be besoldefully, a great man of science. If I shall attest without his consent and knowledge, he is also a mighty good card player; for he beats me so all the times, as if he was a gambling man or a pretentious coxcomb! The vim and verve he acclaims whilomly, pain and suffrage I befale anstandly. Despite all my travails and toils I have maintained my sanity, and have been quite alert and whisted to his words of instruction and wisdom. I can at least confess that I have learn quite a bit indeed, from this exceptional man. He gloats not like the rough Texan Austin Fuller, and he displays no bravura or act like Sir Wellington, and he lacks not the knowledge of the conquest, like Professor Walters. In actual essence, he is a fitting man for this quest. He is rather frank and direct about his words and comments. He is less than saucy, and churlish about his mien. And above all he is not much cowardice, nor shows any ounce of being a scaramouth to say the less. 9:45 p.m.-My immediate fatigue, quickens me so. The day was lost to the endless and aimless search for the wretched creature. No traces, no signs, no footprints; or shred of evidence, in modsthathol terminology, no yeti! Darwin would have died of a heart attack, if he sought off upon this adventure for the question was not his theory of evolution but more instead, the quest for sanity itself. I scratch my head in bewilderment but I suppose, that I must be on page with Sir Cromwell for my duty and obligation as a scientist, is much to great of a cause, than to stifle it in constant doubt and skulking grunning. I must be courageous, and strong in my mind and in my thoughts. Think not of the glory that comes afterward but instead, the feeze and acceptance of it’s honourable accomplishment, which one afrecks and gladly appreciates.

I shall not be drowned in my negativity for as Sir Cromwell saids, “A man can not lose his hope to succeed for then, he will lose surely his sanity!” Such poignant and heedful words to whidlaud to for my sake, I shall always take them to heart and to measurement. If I am to profit and gain from this expedition one thing at least, it shall be commitment and desire! Bir is indeed an apparent and besteadful characteristic, to naturally bewonder. I must aver or verify in me, this baroque quality. If I am to be annotated or girded by my colleagues then, let it not be due to my penchant to succeed. My fettle is thankfully, not feckless nor tripe for it festers about in pain but yet, it does not cully me whatsoever. I shall not be foiled as Sir Cromwell says, by turgid or by flatulent fizzles for grippre, and tenacious I shall be. I will not so dander nor pamper my doubts with such gloss, but instead crump them, and daff them into exile. A cur I am not, but I a prow inside me, is my calling. No longer can I afford to yate, with flaccid but instead, I shall be wary of my surroundings, and predicaments. As Sir Wellington once emoted to me, in his emphatic way, “The thrill of the hunt my boy, flenses anything, that can fizzle your swivels!” I felt indeed frissened, and through the fuliginous and darkle moments in this expedition, I was not frayed by the circumstances, nor was I fudging my heft. For despite the frore I remained featly to my whol. A cause much dearly to me, and to my profession. A burden of fashing vexation it can be, but if one be feath and cuth then no clink, could ever scomfit one’s persistence. Ascesis I was, and au courant, I was as well. For athwart this rigid wasteland bawd, the beacon of success. A whee bit of success, that we sought to bridle. Paltry and worthless doubts, were foppish pretensions and hindrances whilst the prod to go forth, was more enticing. We had managed to find at of a stroke of luck a small gulch, which although was not much in size, it was at least fitting for the night. As we gathered around each other, all of us were submerged, in our own privy thoughts and feelings. Some perhaps so prosaic and dull, whilst others perhaps, much more in depth and in meaning. At least for me, my good thoughts were intertwined deeply, with the prospects of quickly succeeding, and returning back to the commodious warth of metropolitan London itself. “Steely we have to be my boy!” exclaimed Sir Cromwell. An anvil, stithy and smithy man he is for he sprews not false words, nor does he thus purports as well. My body is haggard, and I am rankled in writhe, that covers me from head to toe, like a bloody epidemic! Perhaps I shall not be querulous, and rend this rent that awries me. It is rather odd and queer I say, for thirst uphere, does make a man quaff in sundry gulps of thirst. The glimpse or stime from up so high as we are, is rather daunting. For harrow, can bring down any hardy fellow not to say the least, myself. 18 February-Some of the Sherpa men have decided to return back to their village, citing their commitments to their families. In the end, we were reduced to merely four Sherpa men, out of all the men who came with us on this fording. Though Sir Cromwell was not cloyed about that ideal nevertheless, there was little he could do so to prevent them from departing. I do not blame the men, for I now begin to understand them, and my ken, is rather much fictive. “Good luck my boys!” Sir Cromwell replied as he shook their hands. I did likewise, and I gave them a token of my gratitude. “Here my boys, take this!” I said to them thank you in their native Sherpa tongue, and then they departed; but at the lenity of death itself. It was unlikely as Sir Cromwell, would suggest to me, “Not a bonny of a jolly shall they have if they make it back for out there, are the waiting and pralling arms of a boorish reality!” When I asked him about those remarks of his, he only translated it to mean that it was most likely, that they would simply never return.

11:25 a.m.-We departed from the shelter of the cave, and then headed off into barren landscape of the mountains anew. But not without the reality, that in a bathy runt we were in. The reality of our situation was simply that we were down to lesser men, and the expedition itself was truly crumbling by the day. Not only were we faced with the prospect of being lost and barren, but the fact that we were faced with the perils and dangers of this worly world, that truly so unringed us willingly. I felt at times, like a slob of argil or clay, moulded in despair and in wryth. Stray and amiss we are, but shall it not amiss Sir Cromwell with my thoughts! As we treaded through the aimless snow and hardened landscape, the vision of a tuft or hill, was seen up ahead. “By Jove, I believe that is a hill up ahead, it’s been quite a long time since, we have come across a hill in this expedition!” We made the conscious decision, to head toward the long steepy and brant hill. Though there was somewhat uncertainty of what we would find nevertheless, we pursued our suspicion and desire to investigate. Once we arrived there we realised, that there was a cave; a hovel near the bottom. We searched and without much trouble, located an aperture leading into the cave itself. It was rather small and quaint, but enough to at least shelter us in comfort. The cave inside was fill of filth and muck, and with walls that vibrated echoes, and an eerie gust of wind. “It is rather stifling in here I say, and the muck is rather akin to sullage I do attest!” I emoted. Sir Cromwell was not a man of much drama, for the only thing that emoted his fervour, was his own fervour. I supposed that a man like him, is often moulded with the exception. “I wonder what details, shall we find here?” He inquired. There was darkness, and it benighted us like a frightening dungeon. Naturally it would be enough to becloud or obfuscate one, but not Sir Cromwell; for as he had told me many times, he has climbed into the tombs of the Pharaohs, and the entrance of the Great pyramids, and dug up in the Middle East the relics of the Bible, and the icons of the Greeks. So to him, it did not faze or daze him, one bit. He was a man, who was so worthy, of a bethel of his own. Wisp and frangible he was not, for to accredit those thews to him, was simply unthinkable. Out of the corner of my eye so, I saw there skirmished about objects scattered all around, but ransacked and pillaged. “Bloody be, what in the bloody hell happened here!” I uttered outloud. Sir Cromwell then came at once scurrying, “What is it chap!” We then began to survey the pilfered items, and it became quite obvious to me truly, of who these shreds of belongings had belonged to. “Good God! These items belong to Sir Wellington, and Professor Walters!” Sir Cromwell then rashly sought an answer from me. I hawed at first, as if to soak in my discovery. One that in particular, made me recall old joyeous times with them, Sir Wellington’s dear Turkish chibouk. It made me think dearly of him, and about our warm moments of affinity. The thought, that he had perished, was a daring thought indeed. I could not help but to be choked up in tears, “Oh dear boy, you came to this ending I fear, may God preserve your soul old man!” Sir Cromwell saw my distraught, and welcomed me with soothing words of regret. “I’m sorry my boy, he was a great man to admire and respect; and England shall be in debt to his noble service, and greatest contribution to our country. I have never made mention of this before, but I came to work on several expeditions with this man and although I came at times to envy him, he was a brilliant man!” What was to be known from this was the fact, that both Sir Wellington, and Professor Walters had come in this direction, and had not retrieved back to civilisation. There was still a skulking possibility, that they could both still be alive and roaming about. As all appeared grim and sullen, a miraculously finding would be discovered indeed, Professor Walter’s journal. I immediately opened the journal, which was somewhat hardened tremendously, by the cold and frigidness of the weather and time. What was I searching for? I was searching for the answers to my questions. The answers, to what had betided here to both Professor Walters and Sir Wellington. I had read the contents of the journal, and there amongst it, are in particular two important and beshutty pages of which, reveal just exactly what betided upon Professor Walters and Sir Wellington. Two pages which in itself, I have taken the liberty of pacing onto my own private journal. With discretion, I release the privacy of these pages at the discourse of others, knowing what transpired with them both.

(Professor Walter’s Journal)

(Excerpts) January 22-We have ventured far amongst this vast and wretched land, and we both gain fatigue and are weary; for our bodies are so consumed with writhing agony and bitter numbness. I think that we are truly lost, for we have yet to find a nearby village. The only remnant of a seen truest glimpse, is nothing more than the lingering effects of snow and cold; which hit us constantly and with a wicked barrage none of the likes, that I have seen before in the States. I often dread in my mind, the recent scenes of the days before for they appear to compel me and prolong this misery, which has no name. Perhaps I have done wrong in coming here. But if I have chosen eitherwise then, it was at my discretion. Snowstorms and harsh temperatures for they seem to not abate, and their constant effects, are rather easy to feel. I don’t know whether or not, it was a just cause in coming here, but as Sir Wellington would say to me, “It is a rather noble deed to die for my old boy!” As for the old man, he seems to be much more whole than myself for I believe it is, that bizarre ritual of yoga that he performs daily, that allows him strength. But yet I wonder so, how long will our health including his, prevail in the end? I had a nightmare yesterday, one of which, I found the image of the unseen but yet felt yeti, in it. I tell you, that it yet brings chills down my spine, even now. In this nightmare of mine, I saw myself standing near a ridge, whereupon from my dear distance I caught sight of the illusive, and enigmatic yeti. Through the façade of the snow, and blistering cold that I saw with my naked eyes, could not overcome the fear that laid before my very eyes. There he stood before in a stationery manner, covered in hair from top to bottom. He would stare at me profoundly, before he disappeared into the midst of a hazing fog, which soon blinded my vision. Little would I know that the ominous nightmare would become, a presage or omen so realistic. I cowered and cringed somewhat; for the awesome sight of the creature, was striking and unbelievable. In the days ahead, I actually came to despise and loathe so indeed in profoundness, the reality of this nightmare. For on one cold and shivering day, I caught sight of the creature just as in my nightmare, standing before me on the other side of the mountain ridge, staring at me aimlessly. I frozed in awl, not so much in panic but in amazement as I fretted, not knowing what to truly make out of this sequence of events. In a matter of a minute he was gone. He had fled into the comfort of the mountains, like a sudden breeze of air. It was indeed, an eerie parallel to my dream; but one in which I did not seek, but none the less, it did offer me a small token of consolation. What it gave me was the fact, that the creature truly existed. I had come to these mountains of despair, and had witnessed with my own eyes, the existence of the living yeti. I quickly ran back into the hovel, and informed Sir Wellington of my spotting of the creature and his response was, “By Jove my boy! Are you sure, you haven’t been hallucinating?”

I then quickly replied, “No, the creature is real, it is alive. I tell you, that I saw it with my very own eyes!” Sir Wellington seemed at first to doubt me so, but he saw the conviction in my eyes; and realised, that I spoke the truth. We spent the rest of that day, dwelling in our minds at length, the actual existence of the yeti. It was so powerful was this thought, that it gave us both the impression, that we were close perhaps to find the creature. Although it was but a hollow thought, it at least gave us the hope to carry on; and so we did fully aware of the lingering danger that haunts us and surrounds us at a pitch fervour. I can not equate this predicament in which I find myself in, except to say, that it is much too unbearable. I fear that if we do not soon find a village within the vicinity then, we shall surely perish then out here indeed, in the bitter cold for the more that we tread through the hardened snow, the more that it appears that a warm, hot fireplace we shall not find. I can only wonder at this time rather or not, the cause or reason to our being out here, is meritable. 24 January-Days have passed since the incident with the yeti, and I am led to believe, that our time is perhaps running out. Unless we can find some decent shelter then, we well be facing a devil much more devilish than any yeti; the horrendous weather. As we gathered around so, the campfire yesterday, Sir Wellington and myself, began to dread up truly old childhood memories among ourselves. The conversation appeared to at least, comfort me in some way. It did at least, warm my body up with chuckles of laughter, and made me forget somewhat, the bitter reality in which was waiting for us just outside. How ironic it is, that one finds himself much so amused in the midst of such peril and risk. The mornings are much no different, than the nights in which we seek shelter from. If I was to have one last desire among this earth, it would be simply, that of reaching back to my dearest homestead, in San Francisco. I long for the commodities of it’s old bustling and active street cars, and to glimpse at the beautiful bay, which encompasses it’s dear shoreline; and where the tug boats and streamers, roamed freely through it’s harbour truly. Sir Wellington chuckles when I mention about, missing it’s desirable warm weather. The Sherpas, remained less than conversant for amongst them, there is not much of conversation, for neither one of their people speak fluent English. I often think much of San Francisco, for it does fancies a man’s desire to behold upon, it’s celestial beauty. The image of the yeti, is one which haunts me daily, and it perplexes me at the same time as well. It appears that we are perhaps getting closer to finding the creature, for at night we often can hear from the mountains looming, daunting echoes of roars and squalls, that are coming from the creatures. Though it can’t be proven, without a doubt to me, nor to my old gracious companion, Sir Wellington. The noises are indeed puzzling and alarming for at often, we find ourselves waiting and waiting impatiently it seems, for the creature to sprawl up on us. “They are near indeed, I can feel it my boy!” Sir Wellington exclaimed to me. I saw the most serious look on his face for it reflected in appearance, that of a man who was not spooked nor frightened so much, but instead, a man who was truly baffled and bewitched, by the sounds that were truly audible to all of us. As for the Sherpas who post guard for the nights, what little English they could speak, the constant word that they keep on mumbling about was the word, yeti! Which to me seemed, to bring an uproar in them and incite this frenzy in them, as if they themselves, had a mighty good clue to what, was out there so lurking about. Sir Wellington has suggested that we stay put, but I on the other hand believed otherwise.

And we agreed, that we would resume the search tomorrow in the morning. I can only hope and pray, that luck shall not desert us! Perhaps it was wiser to have stay put, and abandoned the search for the creature. But the search for the others, was much more important. I wonder truly, if we shall not meet the same fate as Professor Hanson? I sometimes believe, that he is still alive somewhere out there. I often think about Professor Bunbury, how lucky of a devil he must be. I can only imagine what the day shall behold for us, but my only desire is, that we shall not succumb to neither the wretched weather, or the wretched creature. But, if I am to chose one from among them both then, I shall prefer the receptive arms of the creature for at least, I shall take comfort in knowing that my death would have been a quick one, and that I would not have lingered in a slow and agonising death We are running out of rashents to eat, and liquids to much drink; for I grow hungry and thirsty, and my throat is hoarse and dry, and my ribs appear to be seaming, at the edges together!

(Resumption of Sir Bunbury’s Journal)

Such telling pages indeed I thought to myself, as I read them. Sir Cromwell who thence happened to read them as well afterwards, concluded and deduced the same analogy. “What a tale indeed!” he said. It was not much in details except, that it did offer us the solace, that the good creature existed and mainly, that there we were nearer to finding the creature and above all, the lives of my fellow colleagues, and compeers. That was indeed, a delight brought upon my eyes; and one which brought out a feeze in them likewise. I suppose that it gives up the great aspiration to seek them. As we shall foster ahead, will we come to meet the cleave fate, as they have possibly met. That night was spent resting, and being quite so acquiescent for our bodies themselves, had suffered much. The conversation around the campfire on this particular night, was all about much of nothing except of course, the talk about the whereabouts, of my fellow compeers. Although I had now the liberty at hand to know, what had happened to them since I last caught eye of them, it was not much to be jolly of; for the immediate thought, was where in the bloody hell were they are presently. That was of course imposing a supposition on my part, and being bold indeed to say, that they were both alive and kicking. Maybe not at full strength, but nevertheless living and that was fundamentally, the most important thing to know above all. I was a bit restless upon this night, for I struggled hard on my mind, perhaps not much to do about nothing. But the thought of whether or not the search for the creature, should be forsaken for the search of the others. Or shall it not, at the expenditure of their very own lives? Shall I query to my lord about that particular question? Or shall I remain mum about it, and laithe to forsake the sake of the others; due to the continuance of the expedition?

All night long, I pondered and cudgelled deeply, those very two questions. Or witterly, I had many more intriguing questions to ask; but these two seem to be, the most telling to ask. I fidged and fretted about, and Sir Cromwell, who was too busy and lested by his plans for tomorrow, noticed my rather uncouth behaviour. “A cat got your tongue there boy? What in the bloody hell has gotten up your pants tonight?” He wasn’t shy nor leer, about being raffish or perhaps a bit vulgar. He is quite a direct, and so upfront man at times. He was quite a man much like Sir Wellington, a man who could perk or hoist up the doldrums of any man. He often attested to me, that his dander could be much more unsoothing, than a crag or any damp thing, that was solid in hard substance. Surely from my conveyance, he was not a man to be mocked or flouted about. His old thoughts, were none to be derided about neither.

As for myself, I wasn’t much of a bully in the sense of the word; but I did have my shares of wipings, and from then I suppose, I accredit of what I know, and that is to be bold myself. So I sought to quell any of my suspicion about my skulking question, by rashly then so imposing the question upon the noble, Sir Cromwell. “Fraught, I oblige it dearly my lord, if you would indulge to me whether or not, you plan on searching for the whereabouts of the others. He promptly then took off his reading spectacles, and then he quietly proceeded to give me his reply. At first I was rather ambiguous and twety, for I did not know what he was to say to me. “To be honest and sincere my dear Professor Bunbury, we shall not do nothing I am afraid!” His reaction was truly stifling to say the least, and much appalling as well. “If you do not mine me saying my lord, how can you have the gull to indulge yourself in senseless thought; and have the audacity to even then utter the thought of forsaking the others? Do you not have scruples my lord?” Instead of quickly expecting an immediate rebuttal from him, I instead received a gesture in his part and one truly of which was soon beled, by a swivel of his. “Enough of your bravura my boy, if I had the whim or fancy of watching drama then, I would have purchased a ticket in the front row of a theatre in London! Mind it that I admire a man who stands, on his principals. But in this case, you have so much to ramble about nothing! And as far as my scruples are concerned, it is best and wodder to keep them to oneself and not be so judgmental against others, due to the burning-up of the loins of one!” “What do you mean when you say, I have much to ramble about nothing?” It appeared that whatever serious confrontation, that we had found ourselves standing toe to toe about, soon gave way, to a much more jocular manner of overtrycking. “I see, you have not spend much time around the locals in London; for the Cockneys are simple folks indeed, but they do offer alot of expression to learn. An expression in itself, that would best serve you well, my boy!” I politely sought to not be so overwhelmed, in my pugnacity. “I am afraid, I haven’t my lord! And I, as a scholar of semantics and grammar, don’t you think that it is somewhat unconventional?” He then chuckled, “Not at all my boy!” You see when one saids truly, that there is much to ramble about nothing, it means that in lament terms, that there is little that we can do?” I then interjected, “But my lord, certainly you understand the code of ethics here, that we as prominent and respectable scientists, dearly adhere ourselves to!” “Knurled and to whidlaud to code of ethics, come now professor, surely you don’t suggest that we abandon the search for the creature! I maybe a bloody bastard on the outside to suggest that, but if I query upon you. What do you suggest, we do in earnest?” It did not take me long to articulate back, “Why the bloody hell with the expedition! We should promptly at once, search at whatever cost for them after all, they are our fellow and dear compeers my lord!” He then chortled, it did upset me so. “I don’t see what is so amusing my lord!” He then halted with the chortling and snickering and promptly, gave me a doze of my very own medicine. “Cost even, at the cost of your life?” Although the statement was rather bold and rathing, it was to the point. I mumed at first, perhaps out of cowardliness then, I quickly so responded to the upfront, “Why of course so my lord!” For a minute we were like two Roman gladiators, jousting at each other with swords that could slice any man’s head off. Our bickering soon gave way, to rationalisation and one which, was sowly thowan in the end. It was for me, something equated to an eye opener. One in which I would find myself quite abashed, and quite simply embarrassed to truly refute against. He rose to his feet like a diplomatic Tory, from the halls of the Parliament of our dear, homeland of England.

“Let me ask one question that appears, to have slipped your mind professor. Are you quite certain, that your colleagues are still alive, and not dead? Look at the date of the last entry, it was practically several weeks ago. Yes, I know that it is possible to refute my warling, with reason. I know that it is quite possible, that they perhaps are still alive somewhere amongst these wretched bergs of isolation. But surely with the fact, that there doesn’t appear to be any sight of a nearby village anywhere; and compound it with the fact, that it was mentioned in the journal, that they were quickly running out of rashents themselves. With the bittering cold, that we face constantly now as we press ahead and with the shortage of food that we will face, if we do not find the creature soon then, surely with all those obstacles and more, how can you logically then believe, that they have somehow survived, even if it be with the company of Sherpas? Look at them, they are incompetent buffoons. If we did not have food and goods for them, they would scram away, like crying wolves!” Sir Cromwell was thraf in his analogy, and it quickly daunted upon me, that his logic was more feasible than my own. My hope was still that, but the reality of our own predicament overshadowed it all, and put it truly into broader prospective. It was a bitter pill to swallow, indeed. “I suppose your right, my lord?” I mumbled, in a low fashion of voice. 18 February-I was rudely awakened this morning, by the voice of one of the Sherpa men, who had scurried into the cave to inform, that one of his fellow brethren, had been violently so killed. Although he raved on in his native tongue, and to both myself and Sir Cromwell, he was virtually incomprehensible the one constant word, that he kept raving about was the word, yeti! He so quickly then led us to the area, in which the Sherpa was killed. And when we both arrived Sir Cromwell and myself, we would be sick to the core of our stomachs, with the mutilation that so occurred before our eyes. The stench of the odour, was so prolific and strong; for not even the strong breeze of the air, could erase such a putrid and malodorous stench of sordidness. For it was not even equitable, to the stench and bad odour, that derived from a bloody sullage itself. It aghasted me, that I wanted to vomit at the sight of such carnage. “Good God, what in the bloody hell happened to this poor man?” I emoted passionately. As for Sir Cromwell, he was much more stifled and shocked than myself. He was listless somewhat, and stayed still for a minute. For him it was the first time, that he had seen the terror and mutilation of the creature. As we slowly and whistedly approached the mangled corpse that laid still upon the snow, I came across indeed, a important shred of evidence, that would leave no doubt to the identity of the culprit himself. “Good God, the hands of the yeti are at display here!” They were fragments of fury hair found upon the victim, enough to sway any man, that the killer was indeed the yeti. “Are you so certain of that professor?” Sir Cromwell asked. I looked at him with a cold stare before I gave my firm response. “My lord, quite certain!” I pointed out to him the footprints, and in particular the massive size of them. “Look my lord at the footprints, certainly no common creature could have such a human form as that and no human being that I know of or even the locals know up, exist in these mountains!” Sir Cromwell then, began to examine the footprints thoroughly. It was enough to sway him. “Your right professor, why a man would have to be rather huge in size, and rather hairy. There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that what killed this man, was a yeti!” As we thought our own analogies, this loud noise consumed the mountains, and casted a clang of echoes like no other. “Great Scot, what was that?” Sir Cromwell, uttered. I turned around and saw, that it was coming from all directions. It was enough to know, that the yeti was near!

-Meanwhile back in London, at the board of executives

19 February-The men, who were members of the board of executives indeed, in the scientific department of the university, were all gathered around a twelve foot table chatting and prating away about the subject and theme, surrounding the so-called great search for the illusive and enigmatic creature, called the yeti. “It’s been bloody two months since the expedition and so far, no tidings of success!” said Lord Jackson. “I favour, that we no longer dawdle our money and expenditures, on senseless rubbish!” said Lord Trammel. The talk continued to be hectic and ardent, but amid them laid one conscious mind between them all, and that was Lord Rutherford; a stouty and sturdy old fellow, who so always had the knack of bringing rationalisation, onto a hardy conversation. “Perhaps we should indulge ourselves, with our duties as scientists, than with our own frivolous selfishness and altruism.” “By Jove, what do you mean by that, Lord Rutherford?” Lord Whitfield queried. Lord Rutherford then, replied ever so stoically and truly modsthatholly, “Listen up my dear chaps, we mustn’t be so hasty in our diatribes and our flak; moreover we must give this expedition more time, for surely that must be reasonable to all of you, and quite feasible as well!” Lord Carter then interjected, “But tell me Lord Rutherford, how much money are we to invest in expeditions, which you know and I know, mount up to be truly nothing more, than wildchase theories and hunts for mythical creatures, which are as real as an ogre!” “Right indeed, for creatures like this so-called yeti, are best left for fairy tales, and the old pages of fiction garbage!” Lord Canterbury boasted adamantly. A chuckle and a chortle, could be heard throughout the halls of the foyer but suddenly a lull or a hushing sound, would then dearly overcome their devilish grins all. “Listen up my dear compeers all, let us all not forget truly, that Darwin himself, however brusque he was in his own thoughts, was a man who stood on his very principles and beliefs; and we as scientists, are not foresayers, nor clergyman, but instead men of science and our goals, have always been the same throughout these centuries, from Gallileo, Da Vinci, Harrison, Newton, Darwin, and many others who have come and gone. It is our cause and duty, to uphold in the name of science that code of ethics and adventure, that they dearly sought willingly, to clasp onto. If we gentlemen are to forsake in the name of science, it’s wildest glory then, we are not scientists no more instead, we are thamaturges in disguise!” Lord Canterbury then retorted, “But surely pipe dream, do not pay for the expenditures of this University; and we as it’s core board members, are rightly obliged, to uphold with utmost respect and duty, it’s dear existence and function! It that not so Lord Rutherford?” “Yes I second that thought!” said one of the men, another said, “Me too, I second as well that thought!” Soon there were more and more groans, and it appeared, that Lord Canterbury’s riveting speech, would astir the board members, to comply and whildlaud, to his form of thinking and rationalisation. There was this devilish grin and smirk on the face of Lord Canterbury for it was one, that displayed in earnest, the look and stare of a man, who was dearly gloating and frockling in his boastful guise. It seemed, that Lord Canterbury’s rationality, was to get the best of Lord Rutherford; but despite his fecund, and so eloquent words of heeding and logic, Lord Rutherford in a deep rash like a Shakespearean actor then, elicited and evoked a more telling reason, for the inducement of the future campaigns to go forth. He was like a wayward and mulish bull, and one who was bent on rebuttal. His eyes flared up and his eyebrows, curled up in dander and in a deep birse, as well.

“Perhaps my dear Lord Canterbury, would rather have us feeding out of the mouth of pompous and orotund men, who only sought instead to paint a picture out of science, from a science book? Then, to astir the feeze and live the passion of exploration and it’s glory! You my dear friends, must I so recall the great scientists of the yore, who in the advancement of science brought us all the luxury of such things, as new cures, new type of diseases and bacterias, new inventions, new theories and evolutions and above all, a new way to dearly think and to emulate. Surely what Lord Canterbury is saying, is totally on the contrary, to what goes against all that we as scientists of the modern era, hold our dear allegiance and trow to. Why Lord Canterbury and his followers, prefer that we stay in our backward thoughts, and not stride in the name of great science. If all of those who fancy to be stuck in the bureaucracy of this University, and never to adventure in the name of science then gentlemen, I suggest that you do not do injustice indeed to science; and call yourselves scientists. If they are those instead, who are staunch supporters of my theory then By Jove, stand up, and make yourselves known!” The room was staid and quiet, and there appeared to be a lull amongst the men; but then slowly, hands began to clap and thus applaud as if the Queen of England, Queen Victoria herself, had given a fiery speech indeed. Indeed Lord Rutherford’s poignant words of whidlauding, were enough to bring truly an uproar and a clamour of approval in his favour whilst Lord Canterbury, would only be left, to swallow his own words of pride, and offer up only a morsel of his conviction in his flimsy weak rebuttal. “I see that I am outnumbered, and in that case, I shall succumb to the will of the masses then, that of a stubborn and gildly man who as a debater, I shall not indulge again, to truly come to underestimate!” He then got up from his chair, along with his followers, which were only two then, he walked out in a gentlemanly fashion. As for dear Lord Rutherford, he stood behind to salivate, his striking victory or just cause. “Now that the matter has been settled, let us wait then, for the outcome of the professor’s expedition, certainly with the prodigious and so reputable Sir Wellington by his side, he shall have experience and wisdom on his side. Let us hope, that for their sake, and for the sake of the institution of science and this university, the expedition, shall be dearly propitious and rather successful if I may be bold enough to say after all, Sir Wellington is funding the majority of the expedition itself!” There was another clamour of approval in the room, but a word of wisdom would put the men in the room, dearly pensive to say the least. “Let us hope indeed, that all shall be a success; but in the case that it is not then, we must not give up the cause, in the name of science for then, it would mean failure to our cause!” Those dear last heeding words of Lord Rutherford, would reverberate across the chambers of the room; and leave a rather melachonic atmosphere for a lull in the minds truly, of the wise and sturdy board members. A pin could have fallen at that very moment, and not one single member of the board of executives, would have reacted at all for Lord Rutherford, had captivated them so. Instead of walking away with jeers and innuendoes, he would walk away, with cheers and congratulations. But in the end the discussion was good, and there was at least many miles afleith and astray from the confines of the Himalayan mountains, much needed assurance that the expedition was a just cause and much more importantly, that they had not been forgotten at all truly, back in merry old England and by their dear fellow compeers back in London as well. Afterwards, Lord Rutherford would be greeted outside of the chambers by his nemesis in the debate, Lord Canterbury himself who seemingly was in the need to resume their debate, but in a more civil and cordial manner. It appeared at first that the grumpy old man, was in need of resuming the heated exchange betwixt them both but instead, Lord Canterbury would be a sport indeed.

“Lord Rutherford, I must commend you on your brilliance as a debater, and a genius on your conviction and knowledge of words for I would have called them spite just a moment ago, but after pondering for a bit I must attest, that I have been so errant indeed in my analogy and diatribe of you. Do not get me wrong, I still have many things in which, I totally disagree with you on; but as fellow members of the board of executives in this great university of ours, I must be upfront when I say, you are feisty John Bull if I should say so. But a John Bull, one who is as mulish as a competitor!” To a stranger those words would be found vile and vulgar, but to Lord Rutherford, they were respectful words of admission, by one foe onto another. Lord Rutherford, would kindly smile then, he would exclaim to Lord Canterbury, “My lord, I do see that in defeat, you are a rather gracious and kind contricant. I shall hope the next time, that we shall so indulge ourselves in debating or arguing, we do come to illicit and evoke our deeper passions, and our convictions. For if not then so, we shall cease as scientists and men of science, to function as it’s eyes and as it’s mouth as well!” Lord Canterbury amid his contempt for Lord Rutherford, would quietly affirm that analogy likewise. “By all means professor! It is indeed our duty and task, to never forget that we are all of us, great men of science!” As the men parted ways, and headed off in different directions Lord Rutherford, would then seek to visit the home of Professor Bunbury, in an attempt to assay whether or not, there was news or good tidings from abroad, sent by the professor from the expedition itself. When he managed to make it to the home and estate of Professor Bunbury, he was met by one of the old maidservants, who proceeded to escort him in and have a cup of tea, while she would seek for someone in authority to speak to him about the matter pertaining to his colleague, and esteemed friend Professor Bunbury. After a minute or so, one of the servants who was left in charge of the house then, calmly addressed him, “Good afternoon my lord, it is good to see you indeed Lord Rutherford, what can I do to service you? Shall you be in need of another cup of tea, or some bickers to accompany it?” Lord Rutherford, would politely declined, and shaled the kind, and amiable request of the servant, “Nay, I think I had enough tea for the day; and besides it was not because of tea, that I came here. I have a much more pending and important issue to handle, and that is, news good or bad; anent the expedition in which, the good Professor Bunbury embarked along with Sir Wellington and Professor Hansen from, nearly two months ago!” The servant, who was the caretaker of the estate then replied, “My, I am afraid, that I must apologise; for if you have come here to seek news about the expedition; and the professor’s whereabouts along the way then, regrettably I must inform you so, that there is unfortunately, but no news either good or bad to report about the expedition or for that matter, the dear professor neither! I am sorry, that I must be the one to disappoint you my lord but it is my duty to be much rightful, and upfront with you as well!” Lord Rutherford naturally, was dejected and aslobbed to not hear any news good or bad; anent the expedition, nor the progress of it as well. “Sorry indeed my fellow; for I am afraid, that there is not much I can do except wait and thole, and hope for the best. At least I have the comfort of knowing, that I came to receive news about my dearest and beloved compeer himself, Professor Bunbury!” With a sad, and quite so sullen expression on his face the caretaker uttered, “Once again my lord, I regret that there is no news from abroad to report pertaining, the progress nor presence condition of the professor nor that of the expedition itself!” As Lord Rutherford was about to leave the house, he then turned back to the servant and then said, “You will keep me in mind, if you shall hear any news from abroad pertaining to the good professor, will you not?” The caretaker simply drawled, “Of course my lord!”

Lord Rutherford, then got into his carriage, and was on his merry way; heading once again back to the university; but along the way he met up, with one of Sir Wellington’s, loyal secretary. A young man by the name of Edward Charles, a former pupil of his at the university; and an emprentice of his as well. He happened to see him walking about, in the hectic rambling streets of dear London itself. “Excuse me for a moment young man, may I speak to you, for a minute or so?” Lord Rutherford asked. The young man, seemed to be in a hurry but since it was Lord Rutherford entreating upon him he kindly grinned, and then complied with the good Lord Rutherford’s entreatment. “Why of course my lord, anything that I can do to be service to you Lord Rutherford, is an extreme honour to me, if I shall say so!” Lord Rutherford then, hastened to query about any news from abroad, pertaining Sir Wellington, and the foray itself. But to the chagrin of Lord Rutherford, much like at Professor Bunbury’s estate, no real progress; no news at all. Once again, there was little Lord Rutherford could do except wait and thole, for it was apparent and evident to him by now, that he was not to receive any news good or bad, about the expedition that Sir Wellington and Professor Bunbury, dearly had embarked upon. Unbeknown to him was the fact that many miles away, survival was the key word for the men and the sheer determination to come out of a maze or labyrinth in itself, which was stifling to say the least. “I wish, that there was news indeed about Sir Wellington and the others, but much like yourself my lord, I too wait anxiously!” said Sir Wellington’s young inquisitive secretary. Lord Rutherford then, departed and headed his way; while the young chap headed off his way, to tend to his duties. With no lead nor inkling of a viable clew to the progress, and status of the daunting expedition he was forced, to thig his reality and above all acquiesce, to the predicament in which was compelling to accept. But still the troublesome and skulking issue of the expedition, and it’s valiant men, was but more than trifling to him. He knew fully well, that if there was to be indeed funding for future upcoming expeditions then, the only meritable thing to see it come to fruition, was lo in behold nothing less, than a successful and executed expedition. Of course for that to betide, it would mean dearly, that the esteemed professors, would have to bring back with them, a yeti. Living or dead was not the issue, there had to be at least, a recent specimen of the great prehistoric creature. To put it blatant and modstathol, not even a fossil of the creature would be deemed, a success in the eyes of the board of executives. Lord Rutherford indeed, was rolling the dice and taking a chance with his hypothesis and his heavy stalwart in the behalf, of all the great men of the expedition. But notwithstanding that, there had to be success in order for there to be future expeditions and more importantly, funding for them. There was a thought in the mind of Lord Rutherford, about iniciating another expedition one which would attempt and assay, to find the men from the previous expedition and as well, carry the duty of attempting to locate, and bring back a living creature or at least some good tidings surrounding, it’s actual existence. He had thought of bringing the issue to the forefront back at the halls of the board of executives, but since there was no real news about the current expedition, than it was perhaps feckless and tripe, to astir a feeze about another so-called expedition being embarked on. Lord Rutherford, sought it fitting to wait at least for nonce whilst the current expedition went on, and went forth. Lord Rutherford then headed back to the university, to resume his duties as a professor. He still was quite pensive, about the status and progress of the expedition but above all, the status and the progress of his dear good friends, Sir Bunbury and the enigmatic Sir Wellington.

(Sir Bunbury’s Journal 20)

February-February is quickly passing us by, like the breeze of the night and abruptly and so twarely the days come and go but there is signs that the month of March, shall not be much so different at least for now, than dear February. I cringed at the prospect and thought of a lingering winter, and a skulking frigidness that lays amid our tormented bodies, and weary eyes. This dear expedition that we embarked on, the very first day since we left London, has not been till nonce, a rather joyeous nor successful endeavour at all! Nevertheless, the expedition goes forth, and hence does our determination and trek through this wasteland, that lays before us as but an ugly reminding hindrance to our daily predicament. “According to my calculations, we have arrived to where Professor Hansen made mentioned to us before, was the den of the creatures. As we had ploughed through, there was an impediment visible to see that laid before us, and that was the fact that the recent snowstorm had piled up a cluster and heap of snow, that had heled and covered the landscape, quite considerably. “Good God, it seems that all it is lost, and much more importantly, we are lost my lord?” I emoted to Sir Cromwell. His reaction was indeed, one of befuddlement to me, “Nay, not quite yet my boy for there might still be a chance, that we could salvage!” I looked at him, with a deep sense of bewilderment. “What are exactly are you referring to my lord?” Sir Cromwell then, began to elucidate and expound somewhat, about an analogy or theory of his. Whilst he talked, I listened. “Well first, according to the journal that we found, we knew that the men of the journal, were on route to this location; and presumably, they most likely reached this destination. Whether or not, they got far from here; and actually found the den of the creatures, is another matter entirely different. But at least we knew of the direction, that they were heading off to. Secondly, from what I recall about biology myself, is the fact, that in order to survive uphere in this vast frigid mountains, one must find an area in which, he could live in and evolve as well; amidst the most harsh, and less than rudimentary conditions. And but last, from my research and study of the creature, the good creature thrive on being furtive and surreptitious. So naturally these mountains here my boy, are the exact place where any wretched soul, human or animal, would seek solace at; there far away from man, and clandestine from any wandering scientist. Think my boy, if you were millions or thousands of years old and prehistoric, a survivor of even the greatest castatrophy on earth the Ice Age then would you not seek comfort, in a place where man seldom travels and where man truly dares not, to fathom going?” Sir Cromwell’s analogy and elucidation, made perfect sense to me, “You mean, like a plant, it must be in an ideal sitting for it to grow? Like the mountain lion, or the roaming buffalo in America it seeks to be clandestine, and roams about in the harsh region that it dwells upon? By God I think, that I fully understand what you are saying!” “Correct my boy, you definitely got it!” But there was a certain lingering doubt of uncertainty in me, and that was, “But how are we knowing what we know and see, to overcome this hindrance that lays before our very own eyes my lord?” Sir Cromwell became rather pensive, and thoughtful in his thoughts and mind, “Good question indeed my boy; for the snow does make an impediment, and obstacle of our present situation. But I am sure that there must be a way, to go about this!” After a couple of moments, the genius that Sir Cromwell, was then fervently emoted, “By Jove, I’ve got it my boy!” I quickly then inquired about his discovery, “What did you find in your thoughts, my lord? Don’t leave me pensive at all my lord!” He hawed for a moment, to and fro his mind wandered for a second.

Sir Cromwell then began to rave on, about the laws of relativity. “According to the laws of physics, there must be an area closeby here where the snow is at it’s dense area, and it could allow us to break through it’s weakest area, for there must be some cracks in the ridges nearby, that being so, would be dearly soft and nesh to bestow us the chance of passing by it. Though the risk and hazard, could be dangerous in the end!” “Indeed my lord. It is a mighty daunting prize to have to pay, in order to continue with this endeavour!” The thought, that danger laid before us, was but a daunting reality but notwithstanding, we were so determined and quite prow enough, to go forth with the expedition. For the quest for the yeti, was running deeply in our veins both. “I suppose, that if this is the time to pray and hope then let it be now for surely, a prayer of a chance we will need if we are to continue in earnest, with this endeavour of ours!” I concurred and agreed, “Indeed so, my lord!” If there was ever a moment in this expedition before or then afterwards that was the turning point then, it was certainly this one pivotal moment in time, for all truly did hinge on a theory more than a proven fact. Slowly we traipsed toward the mammoth mountain ridge, whistedly and ever mindful of the sudden danger, that laid not only just infront of us but as well, just below us. Truly any sudden fall either way would mean instant death, one the pile of snow, that could easily bring down an avalanche from the top upon us and the other being, a death of more than several thousands of feet nether. If the prospects of what laid ahead of us or below us if we were to fail, did not astir a feeze of awareness and caution then, nothing would have dearly. The ridge was quite steep, and the more that we climbed and thrived forward only meant, the more steeper and curvy the mountains themselves, would truly be. Since we now merely six of us, the task was even greater for skill and agility, were merited in this particular occasion. The ever but daring Sir Cromwell, would be the one to handle the task of seeing whether or not, there was a safe and feasible passage in which, travel could be allowed. “All right do wish me luck!” he then muttered to me. I meanwhile merely looked on as a spectator, ever so wary and whisted to even that, which was unfolding before my own two eyes. Slowly he so persisted, as his feet gingerly made it over to the edge of the mountain whereupon then he took a deep breath, and then began to search the area touching so lightly and slightly, the edges of the snowy covered ground in the hope, that there was at least an orifice or aperture in which could permit us dearly, passage for the continuation of the expedition itself. I held my breath, as Sir Cromwell boldly proceeded with his endeavour. After a long and precarious two minutes at last, an opening or a passage was found and just in the nick of time, for the altitude was slowly beginning to take effect on him besoldefully. “I’ve found it dear boy, the passage that will allow us, to go forth in our search my boy!” Sir Cromwell, passionately so emoted. With Sir Cromwell, now in firm soil at least for nonce, it was now our turn to cross the ridge; and pass through the gait or passage itself. “All right my boy, bring yourself and the men over, slowly and cautiously!” I slowly and attentively then, started to walk toward the passage ever mindful and alerted of the danger from ahead, and from below me as well. I held my breath, and my heart throbbed and pulsated like never ere for so afraid I was, that I could hear the deep rhythm of my heart pound in sequence, like old philharmonic notes. In a matter of a prolonged minute, which seemed to be more of an hour I then mercifully, was able to make it to safe soil; but unfortunately for one of the Sherpas, he would not be that lucky at all. As he was attempting his attempt, his foot would slip and cause him to plunge thousands and thousands of feet below and also bringing a chain reaction, that would cause there to be an avalanche to fall.

Within a rash, both Sir Cromwell and myself then, scurried onto safety, in a nearby cave whereupon we were lucky enough, to avoid the onslaught of the avalanche itself. After a minute, the incident would be over, and we all rose to our feet to see what had become of the others, and of the landscape itself. It would not take long truly before the Sherpas themselves, would begin to have their desire to resume the search, swayed. In a cluster they agreed, that they would like frightened guinea pigs abandon the expedition, and attempt to reach instead the comfort of their village anew. In a hurry they scampered away, witnessing the tragic fall of their once dear, and beloved comrade and compatriot. Sir Cromwell, tried to stop them from abandoning the weary campaign; but despite his plead and clamour, it was simply feckless and tripe to assuage the men to continue with the expedition. As I looked at them I realised, that who can blame them for after all, this was not their expedition nor search; but instead ours, us the great scientists, who linger through obscurity, to find the most opaque and desolate objects of nature itself. My dear Sir Cromwell, who was a rather sturdy and flinty fellow, was not that amenable nor blandishing of the abandonment of the remanding Sherpas for it meant, instant suicide for us in the end indeed without them. “Those wretched buffoons, they are no good scoundrels I say; scaramouths, as my father would say!” I did not thig nor agree with Sir Cromwell’s harsh, and stern words of admonition; but since I was not of the calibre nor mould of Sir Cromwell I suppose, that it was inconceivable of me truly, to digest those whidlauding words of his. There we were, stranded it seemed now, within the accouchements, and confines of a barren frigid wasteland. “My boy, it is now just the two of us, and the prospects of perhaps never returning again indeed, to any remnants of modern civilisation as we know it, is a far and distant fancy of one!” He sighed, “Well at least the honour to continue, has been bestowed upon us still. Thus, I suppose that in wrell, one must find some remnants of succour, and bitter solace!” “My lord, perhaps you should have been a preacher or a priest. For you could do well to plagiarise the masses!” I retorted in a most than wry fashion. My shemtful comments, indeed brought out a guffaw and an astirring laughter in the enacture of Sir Cromwell. For Sir Cromwell, was a most than odd and uncouth fellow for his behaviour, was rather strange and unpredictable indeed. “Perhaps you do well being an usher my boy for you do quite well, in guiding counsel upon one.” His comments brought out a small token of laughter in me. There amidst the impediment and hindrance of our reality, laid the only salvageable thing that a man could claim to, his own sense of humour; rather it be propitious to one, or merely serve as ill miff. The tormented effects of the whilere avalanche, could be seen evidently and visibly, like the visage of night and day. A vicissitude in itself, that was dearly pragmatic and fathomable as well. The gall of the cold and gelid wind, could be felt blowing now harshly, against the gaunt contours and lineaments of our madder red frozen cheeks. If there was ever a time in this wretched search for the beast, that bestowed upon us a fere indeed then, it was at that very moment in the quest. For warmth and heat, was but seeming forsoothing and appeasing as well. But much to our chagrin, a fancy it would only apply itself in meaning to be. “I wonder dearly my lord, if even you yourself, ever was brazened, with such haunting and daunting prospects ere in your search and quest, for the great pyramids themselves?” I asked Sir Cromwell. Sir Cromwell was tickled by my analogy and somewhat wizened comparison, “My dear boy, if I was to say, that even upon my diligent search for the great pyramids of Egypt, were much more daunting then simply my boy, I would be such mendacious indeed, if I came to shrive such an untrogly confession!” With Sir Cromwell, I at least had the tranquillity of his charm and his wits, to soothe my apparent pall. A witty and spry fellow he was; for he was a thamaturge in the making. “My lord, let it not be me to ruin the festivities; but witterly, you are quite wary, that we are doomed and cleavely lorn forever, upon these wretched bergs, never to see the light of England anon!” If this had been any other wretched companion on this quest then by all means, our predicament would have made any reasonable man frown and scoffed at the chances of success. But besoldefully not this old codger; for a gammer somatically he was on the surface, but inside of him, he was a dear fighter, and a relentless and trow pugilist. “Cheer up my boy; for amidst our hell, we should truly at least take comfort and weeting, that our cause is perhaps not an unjust cause after all!” Little words to heed and take comfort to, but in the end, if it was to outweigh the negativity and dire reality of our situation then, the more merrier the better. “Well I suppose, that we best look for a good area in which we could camp, for the night. A cave more preferably for the more, that we plough ahead with our climbing the more, that we shall undoubtedly, indeed be faced with the wretchedness of the cold, and dampness of the plateau itself!” Sir Cromwell emoted. Naturally, I concurred with that wise thought or his. His thoughts, were more correct than gaffes. “Of course sir!” From there we set off, for the comfort of a cave or a hovel, not indeed knowing what laid ahead of us; and truly where we were, heading toward next. So dim and dire were our prospects, that the devil himself however of a gadfly he be, could have easily snatched our souls and bodies from the earth and nobody; not even a single person, would come to know of our disappearance. So high up in altitude we were, and so desolate and desuetude was the feeling, that encompassed a man’s thought by the passing minute even if it be, a pleasant one so indeed. I often dearly thought of my Martha, and wondered and even cudgelled diligently if, my mute and stymied entreatments and pleads for her, would not be merely drown out by the viduity of my heart and the shoal and hollow words, which serve as a precursor to my suffrage? The rest of the day, was spent on pondering and analysing, our current crisis. Luckily for us, we managed to find a hovel, or the shelter of a cave which more and more, were seeming quite thror and far in distance. We were forced to track westwardly from our position, in order to find much needed shelter and comfort. There we were so, gathered the both of us, around the leisure of a campfire. Like two desperate and arwene chaps we appeared to be. “I do suppose, that since we are here near our objective place then, we can at least take to heart, that we are nearing our destination!” Sir Cromwell pointed out. As for me in all essence, it was little comfort to know; for the thought of freezing to death out in the barren hell, was more a pending thought, than the discovery of the beast. Not one to be a spoil sport I tried to refrain, from complaining about the situation at hand but nathless, I had to make but one single inquiry upon Sir Cromwell. “Sir Cromwell do forgive me if I may seem, a whee bit sceptical; but I must query upon you,” I then paused. “Go ahead my dear boy!” Sir Cromwell prodded me. I then proceeded with my question, “To be frank, and honest with you Sir Cromwell, has not the dear thought of failure or worst never finding the creature at all, and never returning again to modern civilisation, ever woe a burden upon your mind my lord?” I sought not to be intrepid and bold, but since I was always a realist and not a mere daydreamer, I sought answers to my inquiries for as a scientist it was a trait, that was moulded and shaped in one’s own personality, and in this case, mine! The world of science and above all, the duty of a scientist, was one mired truly in wreckled intricacies itself ones in which, not even the mind of a the greatest scientist, could ever come to decipher not the least, elucidate in theory as well.

Sir Cromwell was pensive, and rather thoughtful at the moment; before he uttered to me then the following, “Good point there Bunbury and I do agree with you, but notwithstanding, I must put a damper on your diatribe, by saying something that is neither ethical or scientific but more of what my dear old father would say, and that was that, “If you are ever to get somewhere in life my dear boy, you must be brave under any circumstance; and amongst your test, shall you find the strength and determination, to always be the victor! For to be a good sport, is always so better than being a bloody loser indeed!” For some strange and queer reason, he made perfect sense to me. “Good words to heed indeed Sir Cromwell, for I couldn’t put them more fecundly and eloquently, than you did of course my lord!” Sir Cromwell, was always a fellow to indeed appreciate and upshade, a man’s good traits. “You know something my boy, I see in you, me some decades ago when I was still but a feisty but younger fellow much like yourself. What I wouldn’t do to be young again, and to trade places with you Bunbury!” Amid our skulking pall, laid the essence of laughter which in itself, was the only means of forgetting the bitter cold and the lingering predicament in which, we were in. “To soothe the heart of one, with a nice warm bottle of brandy; for what I would give, to have a sip of some good old, distilled brandy!” Although I myself, was not much of a drinking man, I still found the fancy, to be rather enticing to say the least. “By all means Sir Cromwell, though I do not drink much so; and have never been one to indulge himself, and imbibing bottles of liquor, I would love dearly myself as well, to have a sip of some of that brandy of yours. To be able to soothe, and warm my aching toes and fingers! A guffaw then broke out from the campfire, but it would soon subside, to the roar and clamour of an echo, heard across the hovel. As quickly as our thirst for brandy, and our parched mouths yearned to taste a drip of brandy, our attention would be focused, on the dear haunting clang of the creature that we both knew, was the yeti itself. Mum and hush, were the words and connotations, that could be heard inside of the hovel for a pin-drop could be heard falling before us and still our ears, would be audible to the menacing cry of the creature. “Egad, the creatures must be near and on the prowl perhaps.” Quickly the thought, that the creatures could be nearing the hovel, and searching for more human prey, was but daunting indeed, on the minds of both Sir Cromwell and myself. I had my fair share of encounters with the creature, and it’s remnants and I wasn’t too receptive of being it’s guest at all. We rose to our feet both, and grabbed our pistols; despite our fatigue and our weariness. “Stay real calm my boy! I believe the creature or creatures themselves, are nearby. And unless we are prepared for them then, we shall dearly become their next victim. And I don’t know about you, but I certainly do not fancy myself, being a plate of dinner or a thurrible, for any heathen!” There we were at the edge of the hovel wary and whisted, to the sounds and noises coming from just outside of us. Even the sound of the howling wind, and bustling cold, made us clotty and so alert. The noise billowed, and it appeared, that the creature or creatures, were nearing in vicinity. My immediate thought like that of Sir Cromwell, was to be attentive and pish, to the sounds and even echoes, that laid outside of the cave itself. Neither Sir Cromwell or myself, was so willing to be less, than cautious and apprehensive about the chances of the creatures approaching the cave. We both whispered to each other, “You do not think Sir Cromwell, that the creature or creatures have spotted us, do you not?” Sir Cromwell was fixed on the beasts, and only muttered a token of response, “I do not truly know, but nevertheless, you better believe, that I shall not be around to welcome the creature with open arms but instead, with my pistol at hand for that shall surely awaken, the creature’s attention!” Minutes would pass and betide, and leave us, with our anxiety and propensity in the edge or brink of mere brooding. “How many do you think they are, Sir Cromwell?” I posed the one question unto Sir Cromwell himself, who was rather mired, in his pensive thoughts indeed. “To be honest my dear boy, I haven’t got the slightest clew! But I will tell you this one thing so, that from the dear sounds themselves, they do rather seem to be coming from different angles I truly profess!” Sir Cromwell, was thraf I felt for the sounds did clang all around us, but to be certain I posed another pivotal question onto him, “Sir Cromwell, to be certain here, could not the clangs or the din that we truly hear, be merely echoes of one loud vociferous clang itself?” It left but a rather mighty thorough impression on the mind of Sir Cromwell, but he quickly so dispelled my wherretness; and quelled my suspicion as well. “Nay, it is feasible but even uphere despite the altitude, the sound that we heard, was more than a sequence of one creature. For in the syllable that we heard, it sounded rather clear to me, that the sounds were not so orchestrated nor in sequence with each other in the matter, that they were efficaciously so aligned as being one my boy!” Once again the overhuddy, and intellectual brilliance of Sir Cromwell, came out to the old forefront and left the rife upon me of a fellow indeed, to be admired and exalted. “Let us hope for our sake, that we do not have to welcome the creatures as whole-hearted invitees my lord for then, it would be a welcome like no other!” “Let us hope, for our own sake my boy, that we shall not have to welcome them at all! But if it comes down to that then, bloody be I shall be yare to give these old buggers, a rude welcome indeed!” One could see more than the extemporaneous feeze, in the eyes of Sir Cromwell; for after all this was a man much like Sir Wellington, who had served his country nobly, in the duty of a soldier. Much like, my dear Sir Wellington, Sir Cromwell himself as well, was in such campaigns and frays, as the Boor Wars of a decade ago and the Crimea War, as young valiant men. Indeed with the great honourable Sir Cromwell, I had a dear feisty and prow soldier at my side. Father, himself like my grandfather himself, had also served their duty as soldiers to their country as well; and the ésprit and vivacity of theirs, was indeed genuine and dearly above all, real to the core of the word being mentioned. Ten minutes would elapsed, and the noise billowed even more but it was not that of a clamorous roar, but more of a continual deep breathing which by my accounts, could only be attributed to a mammal. And in this case, being so high in altitude, only one sort of creature on my paper, could be the master of that ugsome breathing, a yeti! “Stay steady, steadfast my boy!”

Sir Cromwell instructed me cautiously. I truly did not disappoint him at all; for my feet were soiled deep into the ground, and my fingers and my eyes, were ever whisted as ever. “Already ahead of you Sir Cromwell!” The breathing soon billowed and incremented thrice, and it caused us to brood ever more with deep suspicion and anxiety. It was then, that the creatures appeared to be nearing, and looming about; but in a snog heap of rash, the creature’s deep breathing dissipated, and soon were deviated onto something else. And that was unbeknown to us at the time, that the creature’s attention, were drawn to the strangling Sherpas, who abandoned the search with us whilerely. The creatures, if they were out there so dearly, were never to be heard, nearing the cave that night; and it did allow us the comfort of at least having a nice quiet sleep for the night. But indeed, the terror of that night, could be heard echoing and reverberating, all around the hollow mountains themselves. As we remained much so attentive and pish to the surroundings around us, we soon were so audible to the sounds of gunfire; and the cries of pleading men, who were most likely, fallen victims of the dear creatures then, and it did leave a rather whurred impression on me naturally.

Ironically, it as well brought a rather deep and direful impression, upon Sir Cromwell as well; for he would echo the sentiments of mine. The night soon then passed, and gave way to the crack of dawn; but it would not be a night so cozy and relaxing at all! The night, was but keeping one eye asleep whilst the other, remained wide awake.

22 February-Was awakenewd by Sir Cromwell’s snoring, I in return awoke him with my old chattering. He was grumpy as ever, “What, what is it old boy?” he muttered and chuntered to me, as he was awakening from his deep lull indeed. “Do forgive me, if I was rude in awakening you Sir Cromwell; but since it is morning already, and the prospect of the creatures returning, was still feasible, I thought it wise to awaken you Sir Cromwell. Did I do wrong, Sir Cromwell?” I exclaimed to him. Sir Cromwell then kindly rebutted, “Nay, you did well Bunbury for one can not blame you, for being astute. You do well, in being vigilant and mindful Bunbury. Now I see why the Academy of Science itself held high regard of you, and why those old codgers back at your university, prize you as well. Perhaps I can learn several pointers, from you after all indeed Bunbury.” I somewhat was amused by his very wry comments, for they did appear to bring a sense of laughter into me, however brief it could be. Once Sir Cromwell had his customary tea in the early morning, we then made our plans for the day knowing that we still had to continue with the expedition regardless of the perils, that laid ahead even that of the yeti. “Well Bunbury, I do suppose if there ever was a time to ponder one about the success of this campaign then, it is now I am afraid!” He then sighed, before he uttered to me, “Wish us luck, my boy!” Once again, we headed off amid the uncertainty and doubt of what the expedition in itself, laid ahead of us with. The thought was not so much with the danger of the yeti solely, but more with the bittering cold effects now even more of the weather; and the wretched altitude also. Whistedly, and cautiously, we left the cave and approached our surroundings. I knew and Sir Cromwell knew as well, what could be laying out there for us. At least for us, we knew of the yeti’s approximaty, and presence. What was still truly unseen and unknown to Sir Cromwell himself, was the fact that he had never truly come face to face, with a living yeti ere. When I posed, that difference upon him, he simply shrugged off any concern on his part.

23 February-We were able to camp by an open patch of land, that was nearby a cave indeed, but since the cave had been caved in by the snow itself, it was impossible for us to have spent the night there inside the cave itself. Luckily for us, no report or alarming disturbance of the yeti at all for we were spared the wrath of the creatures, and the truth be told, neither I nor the great Sir Cromwell, were able to sleepy a bloody wink at all. Tired and desolate we felt, along with our aching and ailing bones, that were aching by the minute and flesh, that was freezing by the dear second it seemed. Sir Cromwell said it best when he awoke, in the morning to say, “By God, I know now what it feels to be old for to be young again, would truly be a comfort at least in one’s thought I say!” Although I was not at the old, and advancing age of Sir Cromwell nevertheless, I felt like a worn and torn old manger to say the least. “Right you are my lord, for hell would truly seem a rather nicer place to be in. At least they do know how to treat, their guests properly! Sir Cromwell why you do suppose that it was, that the creatures did not attack, nor find us here?” I first replied then eagerly inquired. Sir Cromwell’s replied would be, “Good question Bunbury, but if I may be so, a bit vulgar in saying the hell with the creature for all I care, they can rot as bastards, as far as I am concerned!”

We had our tea, but the reality was soon grabbing hold on us, that we were so quickly running out of rashents for we only had enough, for a week only. However daunting and chilling that reality, was what was to lay ahead of us in this expedition, was even more daunting and very chilling indeed. “Well Bunbury since it seems, that this is our last cup of tea, let it be to our dear liking in taste shall it not be?” I immediately concurred, with his analogy and thought, “Quite so indeed my lord; for as my father would say, if it be your last cup of tea then, do take your time in savouring it’s last ounce of drop, that it holds in the brim of your cup!” It appeared to bring out, a guffaw on Sir Cromwell himself. “My boy, I see Bunbury, that your father was a rather wise and bright fellow. I can truly see the resemblance in his mien in you, though I never truly came to know your father well!” “I am honour indeed Sir Cromwell, that you would offer kind and so respectful blandishment and compliment to me, anent my beloved father. Indeed Sir Cromwell, it is a great honour for me!” The search today, was nothing to do about nothing; for we climbed and ploughed our way through the snow and ice, growing even more tired and fatigue with each and every step that we took forward. If the fear of the creature being out there, did not get my attention then, surely the blisters on my feet and fingers, surely did mightily! ring me with a blanket, and then ushered me close to the dear fireplace where I could dry off as I called.