Day 4
The men hav disinterry. Probubly it woz the tow supe (sorry - ick!) Morals ar low, but I hav no simpathee for thare plite, we must find a way owt of here. The hills ar mayking me dizzee and we ar running owt of provijuns. There was nuthing for it but to do sum clyming.
Grizzle fownd the gowing tuff, as his legs are floppee, but finully we got to the top of the hill and ....good greef ....
We were nee hi in snow!
"Ofe! Fetch me a stik!"
That's better! But I despayrd. Ther woz nuthing here - not even a flour to drore. I rested and ponderd ar plite.
And desyded that there woz nuthing for it but to rest awile and moov on. Meanwile I named the plays "Snoplaseforabare", as I beleev that is bare for "God help me, I am lost". I updayted the map.
"Ofe! Melt me sum snow, that I mite partake of a beveredge!"
I settuld the men into thayr snoholes and took to my tent, befor the sun had set. Wot a mizzerubul plays.
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