We Are Not Eaten by Yaks by C. Alexander London Page A

he had slung over his shoulder, tied it to a tree, and before the kids could count to ten, he was hanging from a rock next to them and tying his rope to their raft.
    â€œGreetings!” he said, smiling like he didn’t have a care in the world. He was hanging by one hand over the edge of the cliff. He had a dazzling white smile, and though he was old, he was all muscle. Close up, the children saw that he had a thin wisp of a white mustache and bushy eyebrows. His cheeks were rosy red. “It is a pleasure to meet the children of such eminent explorers. When I arranged to be your father’s guide, I was thrilled for the chance to meet the rest of the family.”
    â€œNot the rest of the family,” Oliver corrected. “Our mother isn’t here.”
    â€œBut in spirit!” said Lama Norbu cheerfully. “In the spirit of adventure, I am sure she is with you!” He laughed loudly.
    â€œWhatever,” said Celia.
    â€œAnyway, I am not a llama,ʺ the monk explained. The wind howled against the raft. “The llama is a South American camelid growing to about five and a half feet tall and used by the Incan civilization as a pack animal. I am a lama , with one l . A lama-with-one- l is a teacher who has spent lifetimes in study and good deeds. I am also well over six feet tall, and would tower over any llama I came across.” He laughed again.
    â€œOh,” the children said warily.
    â€œYou two must be very brilliant explorers, just like your parents,” the old man added.
    â€œNo,” both children said in unison.
    â€œOkaaay . . .” said Lama Norbu. He quickly changed the subject. “I dreamed something like this might happen,” he said as he scurried back up the cliff using the rope. “The hidden lands have called you to them. Om mani padme hum!” He began to hoist the raft up with his rope. He was much stronger than the Navel Twins could have imagined possible for such an old guy. When they reached the top, the man chanted again: “Om mani padme hum .”
    Oliver and Celia glanced at each other, wondering if the tall man was crazy. A talking llama might make more sense.
    â€œThat is a mantra ”, Lama Norbu explained. “A saying that we often repeat to gain wisdom. Its sounds contain the entire teachings of the Buddha.” He smiled. Oliver and Celia were not comforted. He seemed like a total loon.
    â€œSo you’re a lama, huh?” Oliver said.
    â€œHow exactly did you find us here?” asked Celia.
    â€œThings always go wrong in life,” he said. “Certainty is an illusion. The odds of finding you here were as good as meeting you at the airport. So I imagined what disaster could befall you, and took a walk into the canyon. Since all space is a creation of the mind, this cliff is the same as the airport. You might as well have been here as anywhere. And perhaps you are!”
    He gestured to the landscape, still grinning from ear to ear. Monkeys howled in the distance.
    Once they were out of their ruined raft, Lama Norbu shook both of the children’s hands with a smile. He bent down to their level and looked them right in the eyes in a way that made them feel respected. Though he was tall, he didn’t seem to look down on them.
    â€œGrhumgughhhphhh . . .” said Dr. Navel as he started to wake up. After a moment of rocking his head back and forth and groaning, his eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. “Unhand my children!” he shouted.
    â€œIt’s okay, Dad. We’re safe. We’re on the ground,” said Celia. “Sort of.”
    â€œWe met Lama Norbu,” said Oliver. “He says he’s not a llama.”
    â€œOh.” Dr. Navel looked around and rubbed the back of his neck where a branch had whacked him. There was a bump on his forehead where the air marshal hit him. He pushed his glasses up on his nose and sprang to his feet, showing no confusion about where he