Expedition Journals #2

These are the expedition logs of Larson J. Pendelton Ross the III esquire, Archduke of Canterbury. 

Transcribed into modern day English by Larson Ross, descendent of the Archduke.

He was traveling the arctic in search of the legendary Japanese Pandacorn, whose horn he was going to use to make a potent aphrodisiac, with his trusty team of explorer/servants.  The most notable of the group, besides the archduke himself, was Jeremy, a ten year old lizard boy taken from the Amazon Rainforest.

September 11, 1885:

The tobacco for my pipe has run out; I have seldom smoked on this venture, so I suspect one of the crew has been stealing it. We’re gaining ground on the pandacorn, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is stalking us like a fat Belgian stalks the cart of a cake merchant, hoping for something to roll loose.

September 12, 1885:
I awoke this morning, brushing off the various seal pups that had gathered around the crew at some point during the night; a few mewling in protest. As I stretched, I was shocked to see some specks of tobacco on Johnson’s jacket. The traitor! If he is willing to take my tobacco, who knows what else he is capable of? Talking back to me, perhaps? I shall not sleep soundly tonight, I’m as nervous as an upper class man taking a carriage through an upper-middle class part of town.

September 13, 1885:
Stephanie gave me an ultimatum today: Light a fire to warm us all, (and in the process keeping Jeremy alive, something I want less and less as time goes by.) or she would leave the expedition.  She knew that I would soon go insane without her witty banter and willingness to engage in gentlemanly brawls, something that I refuse to record in these journals due to their feminine qualities, so I agreed.  As a result, we now have no sled, and Jeremy remains frustratingly alive; I could almost taste that roast lizard-boy.

September 14, 1885:
We made little progress today, due to the lack of a sled. The thoughts of eating Jeremy are further from my mind now, as his lizard eyes give me those cute, cold-blooded gazes. His playful nature is reminding me why I brought him in the first place. Also, there is no way to roast him now, as we used all the wood from the sled. I, as the finest of gentry, would never consider consuming raw sentient creature! I would only eat one if it had been properly cooked in a civilized manner.

September 15, 1885:
The pandacorn is closer than ever, I can almost feel my mutton chops tingle. Despite our forthcoming victory, moral is low, because the jerky is finally gone. There were even more seal pups gathered around us this morning, and Johnson suggested eating one. As a counter offer, I suggested eating him; the group was silent after that. I am very curious as to why we have seen no adult seals.

September 16, 1885:
Our second foodless day began, and I can see Johnson eyeing the pups with the same gaze as a wolf stalking a fat German child. More of my tobacco has gone missing, and I am growing tired of Johnson’s petty theft. I would confront him, but surely an upper-class gentleman cannot be expected to chastise such a giant, muscular, armed middle-class individual. I shall get Jeremy to do it.

September 17, 1885:
I awoke to a horrid sight: Johnson holding the body of a seal pup, his face covered in blood. I struck the corpse from his hands, and yelled, “Johnson, you fool! You’ve doomed us all!”
“What? All I did was consumed this creature, we haven’t eaten in days, what else was I supposed to do?!” Johnson rebutted.  Stephanie and Jeremy had been awakened by the commotion and were staring at us as the ice beneath our feet began to crack.

“What’s happening?!” Johnson screeched, in a tone not unlike a small girl protesting the loss of her favorite toy. Suddenly, a great, grey beast broke through the ice, and let out a guttural bark.  We panicked and began to run as more and more of these creatures sprung up from below. I saw my opportunity; I threw my knife and it found its place firmly in Johnson’s leg. He fell, and the seals descended upon him. The rest of us ran as far as our legs could carry us from the scene.

September 18, 1885:
The seals are far behind us, and I shall sleep soundly knowing that my tobacco is secure.

September 19, 1885:
How embarrassing, I found in my pack this morning the meat of the yeti that I had skinned. I laughed and laughed at this oversight as Stephanie and Jeremy glared at me with cold, hard stares.