The Everest Files by Matt Dickinson Read Free Book Online

places, ancient bamboo ladders were already in place. In new locations her father cut fresh bamboo in the forest and built ladders of his own. He would light a fire, create a core of glowing coals, and then clamber up those precipitous cliffs with a metal can of the smouldering embers.
    â€˜The smoke calms them down,’ he told them, but it hardly seemed to be true.
    Once he was up there, he would attack the nest with a special tool – a long pole with a curved blade set into the end. As soon as the knife began to cut into the honeycomb, the furious insects would go into a frenzy, flying into the air and attacking en masse.
    â€˜Here comes a big bit!’ he would scream down.
    Kami and Shreeya would run to catch the honeycomb before it hit the ground. Seeing her father disappear beneath a swirling swarm of bees was a heart-stopping sight for Shreeya; on occasions she could hardly see him for the black cloud of insects. Time and again he would hack at the hive, cleaving dripping chunks of honeycomb off as fast as he could.
    â€˜Let me see your arms,’ Shreeya said after one honey raid.
    Her father reluctantly pulled up his shirt sleeves to reveal a mass of livid red bumps. Sometimes the accumulation of bee venom would send him into a sort of shivering trance which could last an hour or more.
    â€˜You get half a kilo each a day!’ he told them. The fresh honeycomb was the most delicious thing the children had ever tasted; an explosion of lavender and jasmine on the tongue.
    By the third day of the trip they had harvested more than fifty kilos of honey and there was still space in the plastic jerrycans for another ten.
    They passed a high mountain col and came to a windswept plateau, an outstandingly beautiful wilderness of meadows and glaciated peaks.
    â€˜We can camp here tonight,’ he told the children. They put down their packs with relief, running to fill the water bottles at one of the natural springs that seeped from the valley wall.
    High above the sacred lakes, in a separate, hidden-away valley, a series of limestone cliffs formed a scar in the mountainside. The location looked a good hunting ground for wild bees, Shreeya’s father had decided, and the next day he led the children across another high pass to take a look.
    As they approached the valley wall Shreeya suddenly froze. ‘There’s something moving’ she said, pointing to the base of the cliffs, ‘over there by the cave.’
    The place she was pointing towards was many hundreds of metres away. Kami couldn’t see anything there at all and nor could her father despite his sharp eyesight.
    â€˜What is it?’ Kami asked.
    â€˜I don’t know. Some sort of creature. Let’s wait a while, see if it comes out of the rocks.’
    The three of them ducked behind a bush and waited for a while.
    â€˜The wind is in our favour,’ her father whispered. ‘If there’s something there it won’t pick up our scent.’
    â€˜There it is again,’ Shreeya whispered.
    â€˜I can see it!’ Kami hissed excitedly.
    â€˜A snow leopard!’ Shreeya’s father whispered in awe. ‘The first time I’ve seen one.’
    The cat strutted out of the rocks with regal grace, the distinctive dark rosettes of its markings clearly visible against a fur that was somewhere between ivory and honey. The thick tail was raised high, moving sensually back and forth in a way that reminded Shreeya of a snake being charmed.
    â€˜Don’t make a sound,’ her father whispered. Shreeya hardly dared to breathe, so desperately did she want this moment to continue.
    The cat prowled about the meadow, seeming to check the terrain. Even at that distance, Kami could see the latent power of this rare cat. Every movement it made was filled with a glorious grace and strength.
    Having made a tour of inspection, the leopard began to call, a curiously high pitched ‘chuffing’ sound which was