Down through the years, as the zing of arrows gave way to the boom of the bomb, the people who live on the roof of the world never complained about all the noise down below. All they asked was to be left alone. Except for the occasional call by Lowell Thomas or somebody looking for the Abominable Snowman, they got their wish. Down below, Hannibal and Hitler, Socrates and Sinatra flashed by; high in the Himalayas, ignorant and innocent of it all, the people went right on hunting snow leopards, dodging devils and...
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