The Storm Leopards Read online

  “She went straight up the mountainside when I was watching her this morning,” Isabelle agreed. “I don’t see how a pit could hold her, not unless it’s really deep. They wouldn’t be able to give it sheer sides, would they? And why would Grace go in it, anyway? Are they going to bait it with something?”

  “Meat.” Odval nodded. “I bet they’ve taken some of the meat from the goats that were killed. The cold froze it, so it’s stored outside one of the gers.” She laughed, rather sadly. “Poor Grace, she’ll get her goat’s meat after all.”

  “But do you think she’ll come here? We aren’t all that close to her den, are we?”

  Odval looked past the mine pit, and then back down the path, frowning a little as though she was measuring in her head. “Actually, we are. If we went further along this path, you’d see it turns and goes steeper up the mountain. It’s longer, but it joins on to the path we used to get to the den. It would be no distance at all for Grace. My pa said that snow leopards can range for miles and miles in just one night when they haven’t got cubs to watch.” She glanced angrily back at the pit. “I don’t know how they worked it out – it was probably just luck – but they’ve picked a really good place.”

  “Do you think you should tell your pa?” Isabelle suggested. “He’d stop them, wouldn’t he?”

  “How can I?” Odval muttered. “Then I’d have to tell him that I know there’s a snow leopard, and I’ve been disappearing off to watch her for months. My ma and pa would be so upset with me. I’m not supposed to go that far away from the camp. I bet they’d never let me go anywhere on my own ever again.” Her eyes widened. “They might even say they can’t trust me to go to school! Besides, Sukhe is the eldest and he’s really good at working with the herds. Pa thinks he’s sensible. He’d just deny it. And we can hardly prove anything, can we? It’s just a hole!”

  “I suppose so,” Isabelle agreed gloomily. “So we’ll just have to hope that if Grace does jump into it, she can scramble out again.” She thought of Grace bounding past her, and she was almost sure that no pit could hold her. But only almost.

  “We have to do something,” Isabelle murmured, watching the boys and biting angrily at her lip. “We can’t let them trap her, it’s too cruel…” She remembered all the snow leopard facts she’d read, how few of them there were left. They had to help, she and Odval.

  “Maybe that’s why I’m here,” Isabelle whispered to herself, too quietly for Odval to hear. She knew that she wasn’t really an imaginary friend – but she still didn’t know what she was. This strange world felt far too real to be a dream. But Isabelle was sure of one thing – she had to save Grace and the cubs.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Isabelle said, as she helped Odval untack Cloud and turn him back into his stall. “Could we take the bait out of the trap? So they don’t catch her?”

  Odval smiled at her delightedly. “I didn’t think of that!” She glanced up at the sky. “But we’d have to be quick – it’ll be dark really soon.” Then her face fell. “If they’ve put the meat right at the bottom of the pit, I’m not sure we can get down there. It’s really steep.”

  “We’d need a ladder,” Isabelle suggested. “Have you got one?”

  “A stepladder, for helping put the ger canvas up, that’s all… It would wobble around too much.”

  “The ger!” Isabelle caught Odval’s hands. “Yes! There are spare bits of the wood framework, aren’t there? I saw them by the sheep pen.”

  “The khana? Yes, there are spares in case a panel breaks.”

  “Well, aren’t they just like a ladder? I could get my feet into those holes.” She smiled, remembering the time she’d climbed her mum’s garden trellis to rescue a stuck tennis ball.

  Odval nodded. “We could try, anyway. Look, the boys are back.”

  Altan and Sukhe were sauntering through the camp, dangling a sad bundle of fur that Isabelle supposed was a marmot. It looked a bit like an otter with no tail, and she glanced away, shuddering. Still, in a winter like this, she knew Odval’s family would be glad of it – both the meat and the fur.

  Sukhe picked up Odval and twirled her round, making her giggle in spite of herself.

  “What are you so happy about?” she panted, when he finally put her down. Then she wobbled, dizzy, and Altan caught her hands to steady her.

  Isabelle watched them, frowning to herself. Even though the boys were hunters – they’d killed the poor marmot, and they wanted to kill Grace – they clearly adored their little sister. And Odval loved them back. No wonder this was difficult for her.

  Sukhe patted Odval’s cheek. “Nothing you need to know about. We’re just looking after you, that’s all. Looking after everyone,” he added seriously.

  “You should be back inside soon, Odval,” Altan called, as they headed back to the ger. “It’s getting dark.”

  “I know.” Odval nodded, and the two girls watched the boys walk away.

  “Should we go now?” Isabelle suggested. “Before your ma comes out looking for you?”

  Odval nodded, running over to the canvas-covered pile by the sheep pen. “My pa never throws anything away,” she explained to Isabelle. “He reckons all of this will come in useful one day.” She lifted up an old tyre and the two girls pulled out a tall wooden lattice, about two metres long.

  It was stronger than the trellis, Isabelle thought. She’d definitely be able to climb it, if they could stretch it out and stand it up straight.

  The girls slipped and scrambled back up to the path, sliding on the frozen grass as they tried to hurry. It was already starting to get dark and blue shadows were emerging across the snow-scattered grasslands. The path to the mine was eerie in the fading light, and Isabelle felt her stomach turn over as they peered down into the pit for the first time. Odval had said it wasn’t very deep – but it looked almost bottomless, filled with shadows.

  “It must be all right to climb down into,” Isabelle said shakily. “The miners had to go down, didn’t they?”

  Odval nodded uncertainly. “I suppose. The meat’s there, look.” She pointed to a ledge, about three metres down. Isabelle could see a joint of meat, lying on the rock.

  “I think it’s long enough,” Odval murmured, as they pulled at the lattice to stretch it out. “Are you sure you don’t want me to do it, though?”

  Isabelle shook her head. “You hold it tight at the top.” She swallowed, as they fed the lattice down into the hole. It looked so wobbly. “We can rest it on the ledge.”

  Odval untied the sash from her deel and threaded it through a couple of squares of the lattice, tying the ends into a knot and wrapping her arms through it. “I can hold it lower down like this,” she explained. “It’s going to be tricky for you to reach the meat.”

  “Ready?” Isabelle asked, pushing back her sleeves and wincing at the freezing air on her scratched hands. It was the sideways step from the edge of the pit on to the ladder that would be the worst bit, she thought, trying to take a deep breath. It felt like there was something in her throat, the air didn’t seem to be going in properly. She stepped down on to a little ledge, just below the edge of the pit, and reached her foot sideways, feeling for a foothold. For a panicky moment there was nothing there, and then her foot found the trellis.

  “One foot after the other,” Isabelle whispered to herself, trying to ignore the way the slats flexed and shook under her weight. It seemed to take a very long time to get down to the ledge.

  Back at home, Isabelle would have hated to pick up a joint of meat – but now she didn’t have time to fuss. She just grabbed it, tucking the frozen lump into the pocket made by the double front of the deel. At least it’s frozen, she thought. I won’t get covered in meaty bits, ugh… Then she smiled, thinking of the snow leopards. They would think the meaty bits were delicious. And Odval had said how close the den was.

  “Can we take it to Grace and the cubs?” she gasped, as Odval hauled her out over the edge.

  Odval pulled up the wooden frame
and nodded. “Good idea. We can hide the khana here – in case we have to raid the trap again.”

  Isabelle tried to smile. She really hoped that they wouldn’t. Odval hugged her. “Next time I’ll climb. You were so brave. I can’t believe I thought you weren’t real. I thought I’d dreamed you up, but I can’t have done, can I?”

  “I don’t know,” Isabelle whispered, held tightly in her friend’s arms.

  “Sarangerel! Wake up!”

  Isabelle groaned and turned over. It couldn’t be time for school.

  “Wake up!”

  Isabelle opened her eyes to see Odval peering down at her. She was still here, in the ger!

  In her head, she had said goodbye to Odval and the snow leopards the night before, when they’d left the joint of meat on the ledge below the snow leopard cave, and come back to the ger for supper and sleep. Isabelle had been sure that she would wake up in her own bed in the morning, and she would never see them again. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be disappointed or not. But then Odval shook her desperately, and she forgot her home and the strangeness of the dream. It was all too real.

  “Sukhe and Altan are going out somewhere!” Odval hissed. “Put on your boots, we have to follow them. We need to see what they do when they find the meat’s gone.”

  Isabelle shivered. She didn’t really feel like going out into the freezing dark. “I suppose…” she murmured. “Perhaps they’ll just give up,” she added hopefully.

  She wrapped the deel round herself, yawning hugely, and stumbled to the door. Odval grabbed some leftover dumplings and cheese from the night before, and stuffed them into a bag. Then they dashed out into the eerie pre-dawn light of the morning. The sky was stacked with heavy clouds, gathering over the mountains.

  “Ugh, it’s going to snow,” Odval muttered, glancing up at the clouds. “It might be heavy. Look, there they are.”

  Isabelle could see the light of the boys’ torches – it looked like they’d just been to get some more meat from the store stacked by the side of the ger. “More?” she whispered to Odval, as they hurried along behind the boys, trying to step quietly. She felt Odval shrug beside her.

  “I still reckon it must have been an eagle,” Altan said. He wasn’t bothering to whisper. “Good thing we sneaked out to check.”

  “Or that snow leopard got in and managed to climb out again. I told you it wasn’t deep enough! I hope the beast hasn’t done it again. Ma is going to notice this much meat disappearing as it is.”

  Isabelle caught Odval’s sleeve, and the two girls stopped, clutching each other in horror. Sukhe and Altan had gone back and refilled the trap after everyone had gone to bed! Isabelle’s frightening climb down the side of the pit had been for nothing.

  “I never thought they’d do that,” Odval whispered. “Sarangerel, if they put more bait down, they might have trapped Grace after all!”

  The two girls ran up the path, hand in hand, hearts thudding. Isabelle wished they could go faster, but they couldn’t turn on Odval’s torch in case the boys looked back. Sukhe and Altan were drawing ahead already. What if they were too late, and Grace was trapped? What would the boys do to her?

  “Slow down, we’re almost there,” Odval whispered, putting out a hand to stop Isabelle. “Can you hear them?”

  Isabelle nodded grimly. Odval’s brothers were so excited they were practically shouting. As they peered around the rock wall, the girls could see them jumping about and hugging each other on the edge of the path. It was getting lighter, but snow was starting to fall, Isabelle realized vaguely – she could just about make out the boys through a mist of snowflakes. At home she would have dashed outside to dance around, but now she didn’t even care. It didn’t matter. Only Grace mattered.

  “We caught it – the ghost of the mountain!” Sukhe crowed. “No more goat-stealing for you!”

  “I can’t believe we trapped the beast!” Altan threw an arm round his brother’s shoulders, and the two girls exchanged miserable looks.

  “Why didn’t she jump out?” Isabelle whispered. “I was sure she’d be able to.”

  “Maybe she hurt herself?” Odval shook her head. “I don’t understand either. But she often goes out hunting at dawn. Maybe she’s only just gone into the pit after the meat. If she heard the boys coming, she’d probably just huddle down at the bottom of it… Oh, that would be so cruel, such bad luck!”

  “She really wouldn’t jump out while they’re watching?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Snow leopards are so shy. They never attack people. I was the only person in my family who’d seen one until today! She’s probably trying to hide and wait until they go…”

  “What are they going to do to her?” Isabelle peered out again, trying to hear what the boys were discussing.

  “I’ll go and fetch it. It’s beside his bed,” Altan said eagerly, and Sukhe nodded.

  “Pa’s gun!” Odval whispered in horror, pushing Isabelle back into the shadow of the pile of rocks as Altan hurried past. “He’s going to get the gun. They’ll shoot her!”

  “No!” Isabelle shook her head, her eyes terrified. “We can’t let them.”

  “We’ll have to follow Altan and tell Pa,” Odval decided. “Keep quiet – we don’t want Sukhe to hear us.”

  But it was almost impossible to tread too loudly now, Isabelle realized, as they crept out on to the path again. The snow was falling so thickly that the path was covered in a couple of centimetres of fresh snow already. And it was getting worse. Odval had to switch on her torch just to see where they were going. The light had changed to a ghostly blue, and the snowflakes whirled around them in a silent swarm.

  “I can’t see…” Isabelle admitted to Odval after a few minutes of walking.

  “Nor can I…” Odval sounded worried – scared almost – and Isabelle felt blindly for her hand. So much here was strange that she had thought Odval would know what to do. The Mongolian girl would be able to see in the snow, somehow. But her face looked frightened, as Isabelle peered at her through the rising storm. The torch beam was doing nothing, it was just a faint yellowish gleam in front of them. The wind had picked up and it howled, whirling the snow around them.

  “We just have to keep going,” Odval shouted. “We’ll find the way down off this path to the gers soon. Altan!” she called suddenly. “Altan, help!” But there was no answer. “I don’t think he can hear us,” she muttered. Then, after a few more minutes, she tugged on Isabelle’s hand. “We’ve gone too far… We should have found the path down by now.”

  “Where are we?” Isabelle gasped, trying not to sound panicky. The snow was settling on her face, and it was starting to freeze painfully around her nose and eyes.

  “I don’t know,” Odval admitted. “Unless… What’s that noise?”

  Isabelle strained to hear. There was a rustling, snapping sound just ahead. It did sound oddly familiar. “I don’t know… Oh! The obo!” It was the plastic streamers tied on to the stones, snapping and jerking in the fierce wind.

  “If we follow this path, we’ll come to the snow leopards’ den,” Odval shouted back against the wind. “We have to get out of this storm – it’s dangerous. We can shelter in the cave. We’ll need to climb up on to the ledge – follow me.” She pulled Isabelle after her, and they trudged on, picking their way around the rocks that loomed up suddenly in the failing torchlight.

  “Stay against the rock wall!” Odval cried suddenly, lurching towards Isabelle. “There’s a drop – I almost slipped.”

  Isabelle grabbed her, pulling Odval back flat against the rock. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes!” Odval sobbed out. “We – we must be close to the ledge under the cave.” The screaming wind snatched away the snow for a moment, like a hand pulling aside a curtain. Isabelle shuddered as she looked down at the narrow ledge they were standing on and pressed her back against the side of the mountain. But Odval pointed ahead. “Look! The rocks where we sat. Come on!”

  They had never
climbed up on to the ledge before, not wanting to scare the snow leopards. Isabelle had wanted to go closer for a better look, but Odval had explained that if they got too close, Grace might even abandon her den. But it wasn’t that steep – there were crevices and ledges in the rock that meant the girls could shove and haul each other up close to the cave, even in the snow storm.

  Isabelle hesitated at the dark opening – should they go in? What about the cubs?

  “Come on, Sarangerel,” Odval muttered. “If we stay out here, we’ll freeze. I mean it.”

  “I can see them,” Isabelle said suddenly. The two cubs were peering at the girls out of the darkness of the den and they flinched away, hissing, as Odval swung the torchbeam across the cave. It was long and narrow – it looked almost as if two rocks had squashed together. It didn’t feel very cosy, but at least it was out of the wind and snow. Isabelle hated to break into the cubs’ safe home – but Odval was right, it was dangerously cold for the two girls outside.

  “We saw your mother,” she whispered to the cubs. “We helped her, but she still got caught. She’ll be back soon…” She looked over at Odval, her eyes filling with tears. Would Grace ever return home to her babies? “We’ll look after you…” she promised. “Somehow.” Even if your mother never comes back, she added to herself.

  “We’ve got food,” Odval said, as they slipped inside the cave, curling up against the wall as far away from the cubs as they could. The snow leopards lay pressed against the opposite wall, watching them anxiously. “We could feed them. They can’t have had much of that meat last night, and they hadn’t eaten for a while before that – you said Grace didn’t bring anything back yesterday. I bet they’re hungry.” Odval pulled the bag of food out from the front of her deel and opened it up, resting the torch on a rock so she could see what she was doing.

  Shadow sat up at once, making a low noise in his throat, a curious sort of yowling. He was obviously hungry. He padded cautiously towards them, stopping an arm’s length away and eyeing the meat dumpling that Odval had broken open. She tossed it to him gently, so that it fell just in front of his paws, and he sniffed at it for a moment. Then he gave the girls one last careful glance and gobbled down the treat in one mouthful.