Downtime - Marc Platt [27]
One of the head keepers appealed to the reporters not to use flashguns for fear of frightening the Yeti cub. Then the zoo’s director made a brief speech about there being three distinct sub-species of Yeti. Mahamaya and her cub were Yeti Traversii, belonging to the group that more closely resembled the bear family. They were very timid creatures and it was estimated that only a few hundred existed in the wild, which made the birth of the first cub born in captivity so important.
(Mild applause.) The Yeti’s diet consisted mainly of rhododendron leaves and flowers, although they were partial to honeycomb too when they could get it.
The liaison between China and Britain, which had brought about this happy event, was of major international importance.
In recognition of that diplomatic concord, the yeti cub was to be named Margaret.
(Wild applause.)
A nervous young keeper appeared carrying a small bundle of fur in his hands. The cameras (minus flashes) began to click and whirr. The Prime Minister plainly saw this as the photo opportunity sans pareil. If one of her predecessors could do it with pandas, then she was certainly not going to flinch at a Yeti. She cooed regally over the wriggling bundle, determined to reinforce her maternal image.
She appeared less than enthusiastic, however, when the Zoological Society’s director suggested she might actually hold the creature. Her cortège of Suits and PR men and the Chinese Embassy staff all looked on expectantly as the cub’s nervous handler showed her the right way to hold his precious charge.
‘Like handing Snow White over to the Wicked Queen,’
murmured Sarah and got a sidelong look from Charles. He was surrogate father to the baby and was suffering as much as its keeper.
The Prime Minister angled her Tibetan charge awkwardly at arms’ length and gave a rictus smile for the cameras.
Sarah, unable to keep a professionally straight face, slipped away from the crowd to look at the Yeti enclosure.
There seemed to be nothing at home, which reminded her of childhood visits to the zoo. The label would tell you what was meant to be in the cage, but the inmate was always indoors or curled up asleep in the corner, and no amount of shouting or chucking peanuts, in the days when you were allowed to chuck peanuts, would get it to stir. Sarah didn’t have a rhododendron to chuck either.
She gasped as someone barged past her – an old man in extremely tatty and grubby clothes. He had a shock of wild white hair and a white beard and he gave off a musty smell like old cupboards.
‘Pardon me!’ exclaimed Sarah. Then she noticed the tapping white stick and realized her mistake. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize.’
The old man ignored her. His stick struck the safety barrier and he grasped at the rail with his free hand. ‘Yeh-teh!’ he called out. The voice was commanding for someone who appeared so old. ‘Yeh-teh!’
He raised his stick and began to swing wildly across the barrier with it, clashing the implement repeatedly against the bars as he shouted.
There was a squeal from inside the enclosure. A massive grey bearlike creature came scrambling out from behind some rocks. It reared up on its hind legs and squealed again. It was nearly eight foot tall. It was pushing itself against the inner barrier, clawing at the wire.
Sarah ran to pull the old man away, but he pushed her clear with alarming force. She stared in disbelief. His face was dirty and his spectacles were cracked, but she was certain she knew him.
‘ Yeti Traversii! ’ he shouted and began to haul himself across the barrier.
Sarah ran to fetch help. She should have shouted, but she didn’t want to cause an international incident. There must be trigger-happy bodyguards behind every tree. All of them ignoring events by the Yeti enclosure. She grabbed at Charles and pulled him away as