The pelts

High up in the hills, above the gentle slopes spilling over with vineyards and above the gorse and above the coarse stretches of scree, the rocks hum to the yetis’ bells.

The farmers like to know where they are – not because they are a threat, for lowland yetis are unlike their Himalayan cousins in almost every way, but simply to find them at shearing time, or should they trap themselves in a rocky ravine or tangle their silky manes in some thicket or other. The yetis, you see, are easily distracted by butterflies, and often follow them on ill-advised adventures.

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