This morning, our party awoke to find a trail of strange footprints leading from the vital
equipment tent. Although nothing was destroyed or missing, Sir Orkney swears that the level on his
scotch bottle appears to have taken a very noticeable drop. Our noble trackers followed the trail
up treacherous Tashgluckt Flume until the tracks were lost in a blizzard, (as were our trackers -
too bad, but a marked gain in the expedition budget).
