You are here

The Bridge of Terror

A Pemba Short Story

‘Yaks approaching!’ I shouted.

    I looked back as the ten trekkers in my party moved off the track. There must have been six or seven yaks coming towards us. A Sherpa was walking behind them. They moved slowly, wobbling with the large loads strapped to their sides. As they came closer I heard the deep clangs of the bells around their necks.

    I stood well back as the yaks passed. They have large horns which could gore you if you got in their way. They were probably returning with equipment from an Everest climbing expedition. They were breathing heavily and looked very hot. They prefer the higher altitudes where the air is thinner. But they did not have far to go. They would soon be in Lukla.