Panda-Monium (2 page)

Chandra climbed the stairs, his face drawn. Finju showed him to a chair and poured him a cup of tea.

Bindi couldn't hold out any longer. Her heart was pounding with anxiety. ‘What did they say?'

Chandra drank his tea in silence for a moment. Finally, he spoke. ‘Mr Ming-Ma said that they don't need a sanctuary because there are no pandas in the forest.'

‘No pandas?' Vicki was incredulous. ‘Chandra, what about our evidence?'

‘That's the worst bit. He said we'd made it all up. That we wouldn't know panda droppings if we fell into them.'

Bindi was shocked. ‘No one knows panda poo better than Vicki,' she said vehemently.

Chandra shook his head. ‘Try telling that to Mr Ming-Ma.'

He went back to drinking his tea. When he'd finished he turned to Finju. ‘What can you tell us about this Ming-Ma? The villagers seem to respect him. And he was very persuasive at the meeting . . .'

Finju rested his chin on his hands. He was no longer smiling. ‘They do respect him,' he said. ‘But a lot of that respect is due to his wealth and power. Chetan Ming-Ma owns more land and cattle than anyone else. And because he owns so many cattle, he needs a lot of bamboo to feed them. He also needs a lot of timber to burn to make cheese, which he sells down in the town. So you see, he wants to be able to harvest bamboo and timber from any part of the forest whenever he likes.'

‘But does everyone agree with him?' Bindi didn't see why just one person should have all the say.

‘Not everyone,' Chandra replied. ‘There was a woman at the meeting called Maya. She believed me and was very keen to help.'

‘Maya is my sister,' Finju said.

‘Ah!' Chandra said. ‘Well, Maya was very helpful. But the others seemed too frightened to disagree with Mr Ming-Ma.'

‘Why, I wonder?' Bindi shook her head.

Finju sighed. ‘Everyone is very poor – you may have noticed?' He looked around at the visitors, who nodded. ‘And many people work for him – including my family.' Finju slapped his forehead. ‘Which reminds me!'

He peered inside and called out something in Sherpa. Bindi turned around to see who was there.

A boy she hadn't seen before appeared in the doorway. He was clutching a faded blue ball.

‘Come and meet the visitors.' Finju gestured to the boy. ‘This is my son, Wangchuk.'

‘Pleased to meet you,' the boy said in crisp English.

‘Wangchuk is one of many in the village who do jobs for Mr Ming-Ma,' Finju said gravely.

Bindi liked the look of Wangchuk, with his straight black fringe, laughing eyes and wide smile. She guessed he was about ten years old. ‘What do you do for Mr Ming-Ma?' she asked.

‘I feed his best bull,' Wangchuk said. ‘He's locked up across the road. I give him his dinner each day.' He laughed. ‘You should see how much he likes to eat!'

Finju waved his son away. ‘Well you better get along and feed him now. Before he gets too grumpy.'

Wangchuk eyed Bindi. He was still smiling. ‘He can get very cranky, Mr Ming-Ma's bull. Very cranky. Want to come and help me feed him?'

‘Sure,' Bindi said, jumping to her feet. Sitting around here wasn't going to solve anything, and she loved feeding animals. It was one of her favourite jobs at Australia Zoo.

Vicki crossed her arms. ‘Well be careful, Bindi. Your mother expressly instructed me to keep you away from wild bulls.' She winked.

‘I can't promise anything.' Bindi narrowed her eyes. ‘But I hope we run into Mr Ming-Ma. I'd like to have a few words with him.'

‘I wish you could, Bindi,' Chandra said seriously. ‘But unfortunately he doesn't speak English.'

‘Wangchuk could translate . . .' Bindi looked across at her new friend.

Wangchuk smiled but said nothing. Then he turned and disappeared down the stairs, bouncing his ball as he went.

The bull, whose name was Tom, was magnificent, with a silky smooth coat and rippling muscles. But what a temper! He stamped the ground and snorted impatiently as Wangchuk prepared his dinner.

‘Why don't you jump in and feed him by hand?' Wangchuk suggested to Bindi in an innocent voice.

Bindi laughed and wagged her finger at her new friend. ‘I'm not falling for that one! You're as bad as my brother! Robert's always playing jokes.'

Wangchuk threw the fodder over the stone fence. ‘So why do you care about red pandas?' he asked.

Tom gave another loud snort and began to eat.

‘I care about all animals,' Bindi said, ‘but I particularly love red pandas, because we have two absolutely gorgeous ones at our zoo in Australia!'

She stopped and looked hard at Wangchuk. He was a local. He'd know the area well. ‘So have
you
seen any red pandas in the forest near here?'

Wangchuk shrugged. ‘I can't say.'

‘Why not?' Bindi asked.

Wangchuk shook his head. He would speak no more.

The kids watched in silence as Tom hoovered up his dinner. But Bindi's mind was ticking like a stopwatch.
Why couldn't Wangchuk say anything? Had Mr Ming-Ma told him not to?

Bindi was quietly relieved that they hadn't run into Mr Ming-Ma while they were feeding Tom. She'd decided it would be better not to confront the man until she had more evidence that there really were pandas in the forest worth protecting. Also, she didn't want to get Wangchuk into trouble. For one thing, she needed his help.

So on the walk back to the teahouse, she begged her friend to go with them into the forest the following day.

‘We really need a local like you to guide us,' she said.

Wangchuk had been gently kicking his ball as he walked. Now he booted it into the verge.

Bindi pressed on. ‘Even if you don't know where the pandas are, you know the area much better than the rest of us, including Chandra.'

Wangchuk was silent.

‘Pleeease?'

Wangchuk retrieved his ball and looked up at Bindi. This time he wasn't smiling. ‘Okay. But we need to leave early.'

‘Thank you!' Bindi clapped her hands. She was sure Wangchuk knew more about the whereabouts of the pandas than he was letting on. Tomorrow she was going to find out how much.

At six the next morning Bindi and Vicki were on the teahouse verandah ready to go. The temperature had dropped overnight, and Bindi was in her down jacket and new Nepali woollen cap she'd bought in Kathmandu.

Chandra, also in his warmest clothes, joined them.

A minute or two later Wangchuk appeared in the doorway, this time without his ball. He smiled by way of saying hello.

Bindi grinned. ‘Ready?'

Wangchuk nodded, but didn't make a move.

The others set off down the old stairs. Bindi looked back. Wangchuk was still in the doorway, looking up and down the road.

Bindi scanned the area. ‘No one's around!' she called encouragingly.

Wangchuk scuttled down the stairs after them. Vicki glanced from Bindi to Wangchuk, a questioning look on her face. But she made no comment, and they headed off down the trail and away from the village.

They'd been making good progress when they heard the sound of hooves and a herd of cattle and a man appeared ahead. Wangchuk leapt into the bushes, and would only re-emerge when the man and his herd had gone.

‘Why are you so jumpy? Are you scared someone will see you?' Bindi quietly asked her friend once they were on their way again.

Wangchuk stared ahead for a moment before speaking in a low voice. ‘Everyone knows everyone else in our village – apart from the tourists or foreign visitors.' He gave Bindi a quick smile, but he looked worried. ‘So if someone sees me, it will probably get back to Mr Ming-Ma.'

‘And why would that matter?' Bindi asked.

‘Because if Mr Ming-Ma hears that I'm helping you, I'll lose my job feeding Tom.'

Two men rounded the corner up ahead. Wangchuk dived into the bushes again.

Chandra was so far ahead he didn't notice. Vicki frowned but kept walking. She obviously thought Wangchuk was a little odd.

The men drew closer and Bindi saw they were each carrying a bamboo bucket. As they passed, she glanced into the buckets, but the contents were concealed by some sort of cover.

‘So who were those two?' Bindi asked when Wangchuk emerged from the bushes again. The men had looked liked locals, and Bindi figured her friend would know them for sure.

Wangchuk shook his head. ‘I have no idea,' he said. ‘They were strangers.' For the first time since she'd met him, he frowned.

‘So everyone doesn't know everyone after all?' Bindi observed dryly.

‘It would seem so,' was all Wangchuk would say. But as they made their way to the bottom of the old stone steps, Bindi could see he was still frowning.

By the time they'd reached the top of the stone steps the snow-covered mountains on the far horizon were sparkling in the sun's rays.

Chandra led them to the huge rhododendron where they had left the trail the day before. Then they struck off into the forest.

When they reached the big old log where Bindi had spotted the panda poo the previous day, she stopped and peered into the bushes. But this time there was nothing to be seen.

‘That's strange,' she said. ‘It's not there anymore.' She examined the spot where she had made that first find. ‘Hey guys, look at this!'

The others gathered around.

‘Someone has shovelled it all up. Look!'

Bindi was right. The ground had been disturbed in a way that suggested someone had used a spade there.

After that everyone searched the area, looking for the droppings they'd found the day before. All of them had vanished.

Finally, Chandra slumped down onto a rock. ‘How very strange!'

Bindi sat next to him, thinking hard. ‘I think it was those guys we passed on the trail,' she said. ‘The ones carrying bamboo buckets.'

‘You might be right,' Chandra replied. ‘Whoever it was, it appears they've been up here trying to remove evidence of all of the pandas.'

‘
Some
of the pandas.' Wangchuk's smile had returned.

Bindi, Vicki and Chandra all looked at the boy at once. ‘Do you know where there might be more?' Bindi asked.

‘Follow me,' was all Wangchuk said before heading off even deeper into the forest.

He moved like lightning, and seemed to know every stone and every tree. Even Chandra had trouble keeping up.

At last he stopped above a long rock ledge. ‘Now, we wait.'

Hidden by the ledge, they had a surprisingly good view. Bindi could see bamboo thickets everywhere, and the forest cover here was particularly dense.

Everyone was quiet. But it wasn't long before Wangchuk was tugging on Bindi's sleeve. Bindi peered in the direction he was pointing. Sure enough, there was a beautiful russet-backed red panda stretched out in a tree, its legs and tail dangling.

‘That's Jangmu,' Wangchuk whispered. He scoured the trees for a little while longer. ‘And there's Ang. He's Jangmu's son.' He pointed out another red panda, which ambled out from the under- growth to nibble on some new bamboo shoots.

Vicki and Chandra quickly pulled out their cameras and began to take photos.

‘Did
you
name the pandas?' Bindi whispered to her friend.

Wangchuk nodded, his eyes glued to the trees up ahead.

Bindi was helping Vicki take a GPS reading of their location when Wangchuk tugged on her sleeve once more.

Again she looked where he was pointing. A young red panda high in a tree was scrabbling along a branch with amazing courage. Nothing seemed to deter her. As the branch tapered she became like a tightrope walker, teetering along, one step after the other. Finally, she reached her goal – a large clump of berries, which she pulled into her mouth with her paw.

Vicki and Chandra began to take photos.

‘Who's that?' Bindi whispered.

‘I don't know,' Wangchuk hissed back. ‘She's a new one.'

The panda stopped what she was doing and looked up. Bindi felt sure the animal had spotted them. But the panda didn't try to get away. In fact, she seemed unfrightened. After a moment, she went back to her meal.

Wangchuk was silent for a moment before turning to Bindi, laughter in his eyes. ‘I have the perfect name for her!' he whispered.

‘What? What have you named her?' Bindi whispered so loudly the little red panda stopped again and, showing no fear, looked up inquisitively.

Wangchuk giggled. ‘Her name is Little Bindi!'