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Perched on a mountainside surrounded by dense, virgin forest where tigers, snow leopards, and wild boar roam, is the remote village of Chendebji.
It’s so isolated that up until seven years ago, before a hydroelectric plant was installed bringing electricity to the village, children here would only go to school for half an hour a day because no-one could afford to buy kerosene to light the classroom.
In the days before electricity, much of the day would be spent searching for firewood to light stoves and walking up into the high pastures to graze their yaks and goats.
While out on the slopes, the people of Chendebji would come across an unusual paw print that struck chill into their hearts.
“I was about nine years old and had gone high up in the mountains to collect dry leaves for the cattle,” says Pem Dorji, a woman in her late 70s with a wrinkled face and a wide smile.
“That was soon after a heavy snowfall, which lasted for almost nine nights. The yeti must have come down, trying to escape the snow. I just saw the footprints the yeti left behind.”
Sixty years later, Pem still remembers the fear that overcame her. “I couldn’t stay there for a moment,” she says. She ran nearly all the way home.
Check out more contributions by Jeffery Pritchett ranging from UFO to Bigfoot to Paranormal to Prophecy