The Journal of Fearless Freddy – Explorer

Well this trip of daring do starts as most of them do. With a lost bet at the club with some old school
chums. Maybe it was foolish to bet my entire estate and inheritance on which rain drop on the window
would reach the bottom first, but that is what make life worth living isn’t it. Still the fellows were good
about it. They offered to erase my debt if I would agree to undertake a trip to search for the lost city o
something or other. Shrimpy pulled out a tattered and crudely drawn map of the dark continent he said
had belonged to his great grandfather that was the sole survivor of a shipwreck off the coast of the
Congo delta. Inland towards the middle of the blank outline of the continent was a large X drawn as if
with a piece of charcoal from a camp fire. I am sure yesterdays Times crossword puzzle on the back
was just a coincidence. Perhaps it was a copy of the original. Berty said that himself, Shrimpy and they
rest would be willing to finance the expedition in exchange for my return to the club to share in my
tales of triumph and glory. It was either that or turn over the keys to Downtrodden Abbey. Knowing
how much maintenance the old place was in need of before it fell down completely I was tempted to
simply hand over the keys with a strait face but decided getting out of town on a lark to the continent
was what might be just the ticket I needed. I heartily agreed. After a pass of the hat to collect a
thousand pounds and a round of sherry with glasses smashed into the hearth I was off.

Day 1 Luanda
Not really any idea what I will need but spent my entire wad of cash on what I hoped was a proper
balance of warm bodies, trinkets, muskets, rations and a few canoes in reasonable repair. I must say I
did my best out haggling the cagey fellows who bartered the goods. I am sure the loud laughs and tears
of joy were their way of expressing how they had met their match. We will proceed by canoe up the
coast to the Congo tomorrow with the rising sun.

Day 5 Off the shore of the Congo.

Struggled up the coast for days. Stoopid ocean canoe paddling. Who knew it would be so hard in low
slung overloaded dug out canoes. Finally reached the mouth of the Congo soaking wet but no matter.
On to Glory! Game is adequate for our needs if a bit rough cooked.

Day 7 On the Congo river

Reached the great cataract of the Congo. It is a right big and splendid bastard. I can see now why no
one has ever reported getting past it. Spent three whole days thrashing about portaging to the top of it.
Maybe we bought too much stuff? Naw. We will need it I am sure. Game is plentiful enough. Ate
something with lots of toes. Rather tasty.

Day 9 The Oshwiri Village

New territory! More jungle. Rather serene paddling along quiet stretches of the river. Colorful wild
birds flying about in the tree tops. Monkeys screaming at each other. Colorful orchids just about
everywhere. We came to a big fork in the river. North and East. We will keep heading east. That is the
direction of the mysterious X on the old map with the Time crossword on the back. Had about half of it
figured out by then. And of course it is the direction of all the fabulous hidden cities of gold in the
Jungle stories I read about as a lad. Found our first large tribe, the Oshwiri. Friendly folk, after
accepting a good double armful of trinkets. The chief is a jolly fat fellow. Offered us a great deal on
some ivory tusks! I wanted to buy several of course but our trinket reserve is getting used up. Wound
up purchasing three tusks. A couple for the library in the club back home and one to sell in London, or
turn into a billiards set. Yes, probably a nice billiards set to show off to the chaps. Might need to hire a
few of the local fellows to help lug them around. Sat down to a village feast that evening of a nice stew
of something or other with what I think was a nose, or perhaps an eyeball. Not sure. Introduced the
chief to the joys of a after dinner Gin and Tonic. He offered me something gloopy and musty smelling
with something still swimming around in it. Politely told him I will save it for tommorows dinner.

Day 12. Congo tributary dead end

Rotten luck. Hit a dead end of the river just a few days upstream. Guess we will have to turn back and
take the north fork after all. Hunting is meager but adequate. Quite a show of birds here. Thousands of
them whatever they are. Lots of butterflies too. One of our guides has deserted us. The spineless sot
said said something about one eyed cannibals living here. Piffle! Have not seen a soul. I am sure the
skulls we found stacked in a pyramid on the river bank were probably giant monkeys or some thing like
that.

Day 17 North fork of the Congo

Did a double time pace turning around and heading back up the other fork. Bit reckless but decided to
gave it a good go seeing as how I was anxious to keep pushing on toward the interior. Stopped by to see
our old friend the Oshwiri chief with the intent to hire another bearer or two. Price he demanded was a
bit steep so decided to take a pass. Hope we don’t come to regret that upriver. Pushed on making good
time but traveled to fast for a decent hunt. Had to dip into the hardtack and salted mutton. Dreadful
stuff after having dined on something juicy on the spit for so long. Country continues to be spetacular.
Seen our first crocodiles. Tried a few shots but they just lazily blink, grin and disappear into the river.
Think I will keep my arms and feet in the canoe a while.

Day 22 North fork of the Congo, the Grasslands

Finally out of the jungle and into a wide grassland as far as the eye can see. The eye can also see plenty
of game in large herds that seem to have a lot of practice running away in a panic every time we try to
get near enough for a shot. Managed to bring down a few but not enough to feed everyone. Came
around a bend in the river and saw several large boulders along one side near the shore. Then a few
started to move! Our guide strongly suggested staying on the far side of the river away from them. He
called them hi-poo-what-in-my-eye, or something like that. More hard tack and salted mutton tonight.
At least the gin and tonic supply is holding up.

Day 25 North fork of the Congo, the Grasslands

Found some strange animals near the river with a wonderful fur coat. Odd sort of creatures that swim
and burrow into the muddy river banks. Almost like the American beaver I have seen in school books
but minus the funny wide tail. Decided to stay a day and see if we couldn’t bag a few for a closer look.
Might be worth something back home.
Since today is a rest day we had better luck stalking some of the herds. Our closer attention to the
matter paid off with several handsome beast for the evening pot and spit. Almost enough game to feed
the lads. Just one of us had to go without. Of course to my chagrin I could immediately hear the stern
admonishment of my father, the Colonel telling me “You shall neither smoke, drink, nor even lean
against a tree until your men have had a chance to do the same.” Sigh! More hardtack and salted
mutton for yours truly tonight. Think I will make my evening gin and tonic a double.

Day 29 The Elephants Graveyard

Our guide woke us up early very excited about something or other. After we calmed the fellow down
we finally understood that he had found the trail to an elephants graveyard! A treasure trove of ivory!
Of course I decided we just had to go and see this for ourselves, if nothing else just to shut the poor
fellow up. We cached the canoes and most of our other goods including the tusks I purchased from the
chief. Got me wondering if this is where the the old fellow got the tusk to begin with. If so I might be
able to bypass the middle man and take some of this ivory home for myself. Might be a bit dicey
sneaking it past the old man. Still, worth a small fortune if it all works out.

We headed out right away. By afternoon we found ourselves back in the jungle thrashing about through
the undergrowth. The bugs certainly seemed to have missed us. I wonder what they eat when we are
not around? Maybe they chew on elephants. Our guide seemed certain he was on the right track and he
was! By the end of the day we beheld piles and piles of ivory in a large clearing in the jungle. An
elephants graveyard! Seeing the remains of such majestic beasts I immediately had second thoughts
about disturbing such a solemn place. Maybe just a dozen or so tusks to take back home and make
room for the elephants. Seems like a kindly gesture for them. Still, must keep an eye out in case any
return while we are making off with their granddad. Plenty of game too. Almost enough to feed
everyone except one. Ah well. At least I can dine on the all too familiar rations while perched on a
small fortune as I dream of the finest restaurant in London serving hardtack and salt mutton. Ah, my
evening gin and tonic. Just leave the bottle. There’s a good fellow.

Day 31 The Darkest Day

The start of my true trials and tribulations in that retched land. The day started out bright and happy as
we carried a dozen ivory tusks out of the jungle. Just as we returned to the canoe cache to sort out what
to carry with us and plan our next days exploration we were surrounded by a large group of natives
with many pointy ivory tipped sticks held towards our throats and some of the most frightfully serious
serious scowls upon their white stripped and dotted faces. I tried to be just as friendly as we did before
with the Oshwiri by offering a double handful of pretty glass bead trinkets. The biggest and scowliest
of the lot slapped the beads out of my hand. Just as I was starting to respond back with my most
sternest “Now see here!” The large fellow started to yell at me while pointing at the tusk and then
pointing back towards the direction we had just come from the elephants graveyard. I had no idea what
he was going on about and gave him my best exaggerated shrug. That was when all hell broke lose and
the devil to pay. There were shouts, the muskets of the Askiris going off, screams and meaty thunks of
spears being driven home. Thinking of the extreme importance of being able to return to England and
fulfill my promise to regale the lads back at the club of my adventures I made the only difficult choice I
could. I ran screaming for my life, surrounded by a cloud of flying spears and what I thought was
possibly a few shots from the Askiris at my retreating form. Probably shots they took at the natives that
missed. Surely they would not stoop so low as to shoot me, their leader.

Carrying only what was on my back and my musket I breathlessly I ran for as far as I could which is a
fair amount from my track and field days at school I can tell you! At least 50 yards. Maybe even 70. I
found a muddy tree stump near the waters edge to hide underneath. I am not sure what hissed and
slithered about to make room for me but I did not try to move to look. I could hear the scowling fellows
thrashing about in the tall grass by the river looking for me. Some of them came quite close to the tree
stump where I was hiding but quickly retreated when they saw what ever it was that was hissing and
slithering about. After a while it got quiet. I waited until close to sunset before crawling out from under
the stump. I thanked my hissing and slithering companion who rose up level with my head with mouth
wide open as if to smile and say no worries. I then turned to run through the grass back toward the
jungle. Once I finally stopped I did manage to find some rather foul tasting fruit I had seen the Askiris
eating. At least it was not hardtack and salted mutton. All that was back with the scowly angry natives.
Well, they can have that at least. Serves then right, the cads. I crawled up into the crook of a tree to try
and get some rest and await my fate the next morning. Fortunately I still had my back pack with a bit of
gin. However, in the headlong rush of my strategic retreat the bottle of tonic water broke! Dashed luck!
Now that really was the end all to be all of a truly trying day. Gin without Tonic! Might as well be a
barbarian!
Day 32 Somewhere in the Congo jungle
Well, with no guide, no Askiris and no bearers carrying Ivory tusk, and of course not a drop of tonic
water for the gin, I decided my best course of action would be to strike out for the village of my old
friend, the Chief of the Oswiri. I am sure it must be over … um.. that way… somewhere. Yes, That
must be it. Off we go then.

Day 34 Oshwiri Village

Made it back to the village without too much trouble or anything trying to eat me other than every bug
in existence. The old chief told me the Shooyou regard the Elephants as gods. They view anyone
disturbing their final resting place a blasphemers and evil. Well, cant blame them I suppose. I mean
what if someone was to waltz into Salisbury Cathedral and help them selves to a few gold crosses. You
would never see an Englishman do such a thing surely! Still, it wouldn’t hurt them to simply say “Sorry
old chap, you will have to put those back.” Did they really have to take all the hardtack and salt
mutton? Starting to miss that stuff. Wonder if I can find any when I get back to London? I did ask the
old fellow for the loan of a canoe and few strong backs to paddle me back to Luanda. He gave me his
biggest smile and said “Sorry, all really busy.” When I pointed out the twenty empty canoes on the river
bank and the couple dozen young men lounging around in hammocks he said “Yup. Really busy.” Very
well then! I shall simply make the journey back through the jungle on foot. If only I had some tonic
water for the gin. Maybe I can squeeze some liquid from the foul smelling fruits as a substitute.

Day 38 Luanda
Gave it the old school go and pushed through the jungle all the way in just 4 days and nothing trying
to eat me other than all the bugs in the entire world and their cousins. Probably due to my diligence
many times each night firing the musket off at shadows that were at least twenty feet tall full of fangs
and claw whilst screaming at the top of my lungs. Made it back just as the gin ran out. Stroke of luck
that.

Day 42 Off the coast of Africa steaming toward England

Booked passage back to London on a old tramp steamer. I presented myself to the Captain as the Earl
of Downtrodden Abbey. He was most gracious and showed me to the suite reserved for members of the
aristocracy down in the bowels of the ship next to the coal bunkers and the engines. Said I can avoid
sea sickness by simply shoveling coal all day into the boilers. I had never heard of this technique before
but gave it a go. It works! Not a touch of sea sickness the entire voyage.

Day 50 London
I am back in London and the club to share my tales of danger and adventure. The lads seemed quite
surprised to see me. I shouldn’t wonder why. After all, it was not like I was supposed to disappear
forever or anything like that. Wonder if there is a tin or two of hard tack and salt mutton somewhere
abouts in the kitchen. Just as a souvenir of course.

Thus ends my story of adventure, or perhaps it is just beginning. The lads keep hinting of helping me
on my way again and out of the club. They sure seem keen to do so.

I considered publishing my adventure as a serial in the pulp magazines but decided to keep the location
of the Oshwiri and the elephants grave yard full of valuable Ivory a secret for now. Instead I will hide
my journal in the library of Downtrodden Abbey on one of the shelves not yet collapsed from rot and
mildew. Once I have established my fortune I will reveal to the world my triumphs. For now I prepare
to leave for the morrow to return to Africa in search of the mysterious X on the old map. And continue
working on the crossword puzzle on the back.

- Fearless Freddy, 14th Earl of Downtrodden Abbey.

This journal was found hidden inside a musty old book bought at the Friends of the Library book sale
in Corvallis Oregon and published for the first time here on BoardGame Geek.

- Jedi Jack