Quite a few times, he felt just empty space beneath his foot, and he knew that, in the dark, the path had turned sharply. Even then, on that dangerous path, Pala Dawa smiled to himself. Soon he would see Rinzing, and she would be safe.

  THE SERPENT

  Pala Dawa was trudging along doggedly when he saw the giant snake. Stretched out on the path for a long way uphill, he was lazing in a patch of sunshine, with a slippery smile on his face and a wreath of leaves and flowers on his head. He must have been at least 60-70 feet long, and his body was twice as thick as Pala Dawa’s chest was broad.

  He was bright green. His slimy head was bigger than the large rock it rested on. Pala Dawa broke into a cold sweat. He remembered what had happened the last time he had come face to face with the snake.

  As Pala Dawa approached, opening one eye, the serpent raised his head languidly, and hissed: ‘You must be the grandfather that she spoke of!’

  Pala Dawa couldn’t decide whether the snake’s wide, goofy smile was because the snake was happy to see him, or if he was looking forward to swallowing him whole.

  ‘I remember you,’ replied Pala Dawa, his knees quivering at the memory. ‘I saw you when I came to this mountain as a young man. You sat on a rocky ledge and blew fire and smoke at me. You were a sort of yellowish-green then.’

  Laughing and shaking all over the length of his elongated body, the snake exclaimed, ‘And I remember you too! Of course, I singed you with fire and blackened your terrified face with smoke. That’s what I always do to anyone who makes it this far – though very, very, very few do.’ As he spoke, the snake slithered slowly forward and towered above Pala Dawa’s head. Pala Dawa didn’t move a muscle. ‘And you never gave me flowers, you never sat and talked to me,’ complained the giant snake. ‘No one sits and talks to me. No one EVER told me a joke. SHE DID! She was so ssssweet.’

  The snake paused, relaxed his body and brought his head down to a more amiable eye-to-eye position. Pala Dawa did not relax, for he saw this new position more as fang-to-eye. The snake sniffled.

  ‘If you weren’t her grandfather,’ he continued, ‘I would probably blacken your face with smoke the way I did when you came here last. Maybe I’ll do it again. Just for fun! Or just to remember what your face looks like when it’s smoky, inky black!’

  Tilting his head back to look properly at Pala Dawa, the giant snake wiggled his eyebrows and remarked, ‘You’re older now, but still little more than a child. I’m thousands and thousands of years old. I’ve forgotten how old I am. But I still feel very fine.’ Slithering around in gigantic coils up and down the slope around Pala Dawa, he rued: ‘Hardly anyone comes up the mountain anymore. All so scared, I suppose. We can’t let just anyone up here. I remember you crawling on your knees the last time you were coming back down. I was so tempted to set your kho on fire, just for my own amusement, but I guessed you had actually tried to fight the tiger, which is why you looked so broken. I thought that someone who had grappled with the tiger should at least not go home naked, with his kho in ashy rags around his body. That’s what I do to all who come running down. I find that very, very funny, you know.’

  Arranging the last of his coils into a low seat, he offered: ‘Chair for you?’

  A slight shake of the head was all Pala Dawa could manage.

  ‘Right, more comfortable on a rock!’ said the snake. ‘You know what your problem is? You carry all your devils and demons in your heart and mind, and that’s why you meet them a million times across your life – and they terrify you at every meeting.’

  Gesturing up the mountain with his head and neck, he continued, ‘Your granddaughter is so pure and brave. Her heart is golden. She will fight the tiger and win, I think. Even if she loses, the tiger will regret that it ever saw her. She is braver than any man I have ever seen. Go. Be with her. Love her and protect her with all your strength. She is precious. She has joyfully chosen this difficult journey up this mountain. Make sure she gets home safely.’

  As Pala Dawa edged past the snake on that narrow, twisting path, he could feel the fierce heat of the snake’s giant, scaly body. He felt the warm breath of the snake on his back till he climbed up the steep bend. He could almost feel the snake’s fiery eyes boring into his back as he walked.

  As he turned the bend, he found himself walking through coiling, rolling clouds. And he was bombarded with lightning bolts and thunderclaps all over again!

  WE WILL, WE CAN

  As Pala Dawa walked on, the path stopped at a huge stone slab. He inwardly groaned at the thought of yet another stairway of the giants. He didn’t know how long he had walked, but he could feel that he had begun to walk much faster. Something in the snake’s hot breath had put the heat back into his lungs, bones and muscles. The energy that he hadn’t felt all summer as he lay ill, had returned.

  His heart felt warm again, and he walked more sure-footedly, swinging his arms, with a lot of the strength of his younger days.

  Seeking handholds in the huge slab of rock towering above him, he began to haul himself up. The rock looked about fifteen or eighteen feet high. When he got to the top, he wondered how tiny Rinzing could have climbed the rock. Suddenly it struck him that she could have fallen while climbing, and hurt herself awfully. Or worse. He had been so happy when she had said she would wait for him that he had very confidently stopped calling out to her. In a panic, he screamed as loud as he could: ‘Rinnnzzziiiinnngggg!’

  The clouds were still lending him their thunderous voice.

  ‘I’mmmm waitingggg for youuuu, Palaaaaa . . . ’ came the chirping voice in a blasting thunder-tone.

  Pala Dawa closed his eyes in thanks for a few moments. Then he continued climbing onto the next giant step.

  This set of steps was exceptionally tall and challenging, but Pala Dawa kept heaving himself up higher and higher. Then, as he clambered over an incredibly gigantic slab that seemed at least forty feet high, there was Rinzing, sitting on the rock slab with a whole lot of yellow and blue flowers, singing and playing with a bunch of little pebbles.

  ‘Rinzinggggg. . .’ he cried, as he hauled himself onto the rock. Then, rushing forward, he picked her up and hugged her.

  ‘Ohhhh Palaaaa . . . I knew you would come,’ Rinzing said, laughing.

  As Pala Dawa put her down, she sang and danced around him, clapping her little hands: ‘I knew you would come, I knew you would come, I knew you would come . . . ’

  They both sat down on the rock. Pala Dawa couldn’t stop looking at her, just happy that she was safe and sitting there with him. Finally, he asked softly: ‘I have tsampa and walnuts from home. Will you eat something?’

  ‘I’m hungry!’ she said, nodding.

  As they ate, Pala Dawa asked her how she had found the entrance to the path. Rinzing recounted: ‘I asked a milk-trader who was coming from up the valley. He showed me the path, but he laughed and said it was no place for girls and women. I got so angry with him. Those steps on the way up were so frightening. I had to reach up for handholds that were above my head. In one place, I even had to jump up to get something to grip. I was so scared of falling at that time.

  ‘Then I went into the cave full of the ugliest clowns I have ever seen. They were so sweet. We sang songs, and we danced. There were lovely fireflies that sang too – in squeaky, buzzy little high-pitched voices.

  They shone brighter when they sang. I gave those clowns some of my flowers – and they loved them!

  ‘And then there was that snake. When I first saw him, I got so scared, I loaded up my catapult in one second and aimed it at his nose. But then he said hello and welcomed me in such a funny old voice. His voice was just like my friend Lakpa Dorji’s Pala’s voice. I started laughing, then he laughed. So I put down my catapult, and we started talking. Such a lovely, funny fellow! He is as ticklish as you are. At one point, I stopped tickling his stomach because I was scared he would fall off the path. I told him about our village and Ama and Apa and you. I made him a wreath of flowers, and he laughed at all your horrible old jokes that I told him. He looked your age, so I didn’t tell him my jokes . . . I told him all yours. He was still laughing when I said goodbye. They all love flowers on this mountain, it seems. No flowers grow here, maybe that’s why.’

  Pala Dawa’s mind was stuck on something Rinzing had said in the beginning. ‘What catapult?’ he asked. ‘Why did you bring a catapult here to Sertaktse La?’

  ‘You know I make very good catapults, Pala. Better than all the children in our village. Even the big boys ask me to make catapults for them. When I help Apa in the fields, I chase off all the monkeys in the morning with my catapult.

  Last year, when a bear tried to carry away Tobgay’s huge beautiful golden dog, I shot the bear in the nose and in the face with so many stones that it roared with pain and dropped the dog. I kept shooting at the bear and it ran away. Tobgay’s dog was saved that day. You remember that, don’t you, Pala?’

  Pala Dawa nodded as he remembered. ‘So you brought the catapult to protect yourself against bears and monkeys and other animals?’ he continued.

  Laughing out loud, Rinzing said, ‘No, Pala! I brought two of my catapults in my bakhu so that when I meet the golden tiger, I will shoot stones up his nose and face so many times, he won’t be able to face me. He will have to run like the bear – howling and roaring while I pelt his backside hard with even more stones as he runs. I’m the best catapult shot in our whole village. The fastest and the most accurate. The golden tiger doesn’t stand a chance, see?!’

  Pala Dawa went silent. He didn’t know what to say. Rinzing chattered on: ‘So much fun on this mountain! Let’s go ahead quickly. Who knows whom we will meet on the way to the golden tree with its magic fruit!’

  Then Pala Dawa smiled at her little shining face and said, ‘Let us go home, Rinzing. This mountain is so dangerous. What are we climbing for?’

  Rinzing jumped up and scolded him: ‘We are climbing this mountain to get the magic fruit for you. If you want to go home, you can. But I will not stop until I bring the magic fruit down to our house, where you can eat it and never be sick again.’

  Pala Dawa raised his hands to his head and massaged his temples. He shook his head and grimaced. He began to say something, but Rinzing cut him off: ‘You said that no man ever climbed this mountain. Or succeeded in fighting the tiger. Or returned after eating the magic fruit. I know I’m not a man. I DO KNOW that I’m a girl. And I WILL CLIMB this mountain. I am the best catapult shot in the whole village. And I WILL FIGHT AND DEFEAT the tiger. And I WILL BRING BACK the magic fruit!’

  She ran forward and began to climb the next rock. Sitting there, he dumbly watched her go upwards. As she climbed, she looked down at him and shouted:

  ‘I’m not a man. I’m a girl, SO I CAN.

  I’m not a man. I’M A GIRL, SO I CAN.’

  She scampered up over the rocks into the dark clouds so fast that in a little more than a minute, Pala Dawa could no longer see her. Scared of losing her all over again, he got up painfully and began to climb too.

  Clambering over a particularly tricky step, he saw Rinzing sitting right there. She was just too small to reach a jutting rock that would have made a good handhold to climb further. It was more than two feet above her head. When he reached her, he told her to get up onto his shoulders. He interlaced his fingers, making a step for her with his locked palms. Rinzing giggled, put a foot on the improvised step, then as Pala Dawa raised her up, she swung her other leg around his neck and settled down over his shoulders.

  ‘You ready to go?’ asked Pala Dawa. ‘Your neck is so fat, Pala, I feel like I’m riding a horse,’ Rinzing said, giggling again. Pala Dawa reached up, gave Rinzing’s cheek a playful pinch, neighed and then started tickling her. Rinzing laughed and laughed and finally begged him to stop.

  ‘Are you sure you can climb up while carrying me?’ asked Rinzing, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

  Pala Dawa let out a short neigh again and said, ‘I’m no man, I’m a horse, I can!’

  Rinzing laughed again, put her arms around Pala Dawa’s head and said, ‘You’re the best horse in the world, Pala!’

  Pala Dawa smiled. Then he began to climb again.

  Holding onto his head, Rinzing giggled again and said, ‘We’re a good team, Pala. Let’s climb together. Together we will definitely get to the magic tree and bring back the magic fruit.’

  ‘All right. We will climb together,’ said Pala Dawa with a deep breath and a shudder.

  As they reached up to the top of the giant steps, something astounding happened. The dark clouds vanished entirely. The crackling lightning and the rolling thunder stopped – almost as if someone had switched them off. Suddenly they were walking in brilliant late-afternoon sunshine. Pala Dawa stretched both his arms to the warm sunshine and closed his eyes against the marvellous light.

  Rinzing said, ‘Those clouds were just a layer. Was it like this when you climbed the mountain the last time, Pala?’

  ‘No, the clouds went right up, almost till the top,’ said Pala Dawa.

  ‘That’s because I wasn’t with you the last time,’ said Rinzing, smiling.

  THE WHISPERING PINES AND THE HUMMINGBIRD

  The narrow path became broader but the slope was now steeper. Pala Dawa could feel his lungs straining again. As they walked up together, Rinzing led and he followed.

  They had been walking – it seemed for so long – when they entered a dark, foreboding pine forest.

  The pine trees were so close that no sunshine could enter. Here and there a sharp shaft of sunshine pierced through like a knife in the semi-dark. The pine forest whispered all around them. The trees whispered warnings about the dangers ahead and the terror of the golden tiger. Rinzing scattered flowers into the forest wind for the pine trees to enjoy. They thanked her in soft whispers and warned her to be very careful and to take special care of Pala Dawa.

  A beautiful fragrance mixed with the sharp scent of the pines was everywhere. Pala Dawa and Rinzing breathed in that most exquisite perfume. ‘I wish I could take some back for Ama; she would love this,’ mused Rinzing.

  The wind that had whistled ominously through the pine needles turned into a jaunty tune that Rinzing skipped to as they walked out of the forest, back into the sunshine. Even Pala Dawa smiled because the tune was so cheery.

  And as they walked, afternoon gave way to early evening, and the light began to fade. Just before dusk, they came across several skeletons propped up against the rocks. Some just sat with their backs to the rocks. Some lay at the base of the largest rocks as if they had lain down to rest and never got up again.

  A hummingbird was hopping around between the skeletons and rocks. He spoke to Rinzing and Pala Dawa:

  ‘Carry not demons inside your heart,

  The tiger will be fearsome enough.

  Be cheerful and brave, the both of you!

  Though this path be frightful and rough.’

  Rinzing replied quickly:

  ‘We thank you, o hummingbird,

  For the joy and the cheer that you bring.

  Though our path be ever so dangerous

  We take hope from the song that you sing.’

  Chirping happily, the hummingbird took them just beyond the rocks, to a bush that was covered with berries, and whistled and chirped at them:

  ‘Gather these berries while you may

  And carry some up when you go.

  You’ll find nothing to eat as you climb up above.

  And when you’re hungry, your journey moves slow.’

  So while Pala Dawa quickly plucked berries for them to carry, Rinzing held out some of the blue and yellow flowers to the hummingbird. He delightedly hovered in mid-air, just above her hand, dipping his beak into the flowers to drink their sweet nectar. He gave them both a blessing. He said that even if she lost to the golden tiger, she would be safe.

  Then, he sang ominously:

  ‘Look after your grandfather here with you.

  He carries vast fear of the tiger inside.

  Fear makes the tiger much stronger.

  And that’s why so many have died.’

  And then, before Rinzing and Pala Dawa could reply, the hummingbird whistled his farewell and flew away into the dark forest. Suddenly the air around them seemed heavier and a little gloomy.

  Rinzing and Pala Dawa walked on quickly as day slowly gave way to evening and the light began changing all around them.

  They hadn’t looked at the sun for a while. They had been concentrating on the climb and the path ahead. When they looked up at the mountaintops, they saw the most brilliant sunset. It looked so different from the sunsets they were used to seeing in their village in the valley. Back home in their village, they looked at the mountains and the setting sun from far below.

  In the valley, the towering mountains stood like guardians of the world and seemed to force the sun to set very quickly behind the peaks. The sun very rapidly went from mellow gold, to colouring the mountains fiery pink; then suddenly everything would turn fuzzy grey, and then black. Here, on Sertaktse La, they looked eye-to-eye at the snowy peaks doing their best to send the sun to sleep. The sun seemed to battle the mountains for every last minute of light. Rinzing and Pala Dawa had never enjoyed such a long, drawn-out, flaming-gold and copper orange sunset. The mountainsides seemed to enjoy pushing and pulling the setting sun’s brilliant colours.

  Pala Dawa took Rinzing’s little hand and began to walk very fast.

  ‘We are not far from the rocks,’ he said. ‘We must get there before dark. We need to be protected against the wind that howls and screams all night. And the cold, cold snow.’

  As they walked, the gorgeous, flaming sunset began to fade; the skies started turning to grey and night came creeping in. The light grew dimmer, and Pala Dawa walked even faster, with Rinzing almost stumbling behind him, trying to keep pace.

 

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