Day 5, Sunday
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L D Harrow - Day 5, Sunday
21 August 1763 — After nearly a week of travel, we have reached the ravine told of in the journal of Mister Larabie, last surviving member of the fated 1752 RL&H expedition some 11 years ago. By the sketched map he left before his own death last year, we know that somewhere in the forested depth below us, his partners, Riggins and Heath, were lost and presumed dead.
The foliage in this area is quite dense, but our scouts have spotted a large clearing on the western rim, as I write, Mister Sterling is already on the western side and our supplies are being carried across a "natural bridge" consisting of a rather large fallen tree. I will bring up the rear.
Once across, we will set up camp for the night and descend into the ravine in the morning.
L D Harrow - Later, same day...
21 August 1763 — We have all safely crossed to the western side of the ravine.
While the porters set up our camp for the night, Mr Sterling and the guide are making a last minute check of our supplies.
I am employing the remaining hours of daylight to ascertain the best method of descent into the cañon. I have one of the porters constructing a crude "rope ladder," as it appears there is no safe path to the bottom.
R T Sterling - Checking the Supplies
21 August 1763 — I have been checking the gear and I find we are aportioned for the next leg of our journey. We have plenty of food and ammunition, which I hope we will not need for anything more than provisioning our larder.
I say this, because for some reason Mister Larabie was strangely silent about his group's expedition. There is some secret about this ravine (I surmise) which he would share with no one, during his life, and now he is silent.
Like him, the ravine is also silent. Far below us, I can hear the sound of water--not rushing, but gurgling, adding little to the quietness.
The guide has finished his inventory now, and we have begun to bed down for the night. Everyone wants to be fresh for the descent on the morrow.
L D Harrow - Sunset
21 August 1763 — I write this by the light of my oil lamp.
Just as the sun began to set there was a sound like a wolves fighting in the distance. This has caused some concern with our guide and porters... they seem to think there are inhuman creatures of some sort that live in the ravine.
Mister Sterling attempted to assuage their fears by pointing out, quite sensibly, that wolves are not human no matter where they live. He assured them that there is nothing to fear, as these creatures, like most wild animals, fear man.
But I am having trouble sleeping. One thought is prevailing in my mind;
I remember a story from childhood, told by an old Jewess that helped my mother with housework... it was the story of a man that, when the moon was full (as it is tonight) became a wolf. Being a wolf/man, it had not the fear of man...
I must put these childish fears out of my mind! Sterling is constantly chiding me for my tendency to see monsters where there are none.
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