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Entry 1: 7th June, 1982

Good day, dear readers, it is I, your favorite travel and investigative journalist, Wilbur C Mongomery! I bring you another installment of my journal detailing the documenting of a previous undocumented tribe, this time in the South of Korea! The "gip-eun sup-ui aideul", as the locals refer to them, or rather "The children of the deep forest" to those of us who speak the Queens tongue, are a remote tribe of water deer. The locals fear these fearsome looking folk due to their unusual size and the fact they posses some nasty looking fangs. But fear not, dear reader! I have enlisted the help of the esteemed Amelia Janeway, who will be joining me on my journey to meet these savages.

Miss Janeway reassures me that despite their appearances to the contrary, she has in fact had encounters with this tribe before and they are rather friendly. But that remains to be seen, I am willing to risk my very own life and limb to bring this knowledge to the world. So, I beg of you dear readers, when you go to bed tonight, spare a moment to pray for mine and my intrepid companion's safe return!

Our passage to South Korea is secured, along with all our provisions Miss Janeway thinks we will need. As the jungle around the last known area their village was seen is very thick, we will be making the trip on foot and without the use of pack animals. I only hope my constitution is up to the task and I am able to carry my weight, it would no do for one of my standings to be outdone by the fairer sex!

Entry 2: 14th June, 1982

Good evening, dear readers, it is I, your favorite travel and investigative journalist, Wilbr C Montgomery! I am just checking in to let those of you following my journey back home know that we have arrived at our destination safe and unharmed! We arrived late on the thirteenth of June, there were fierce headwinds delaying out flight along with the connecting links before we touched down in Southern Korea. We have lost more time than we bargained for, so Miss Janeway suggests packing the vehicles so they are ready to leave at the crack of dawn to get us as far into the jungle as possible. We have secured a local guide as well, though Miss Janeway doubts the strength of his character. I am reluctant to agree with her on the issue, but the old man is already looking nervous and twitchy, as we have not even left the city limits yet, I do not think he will be with us long.

We are to have a light meal and no alcohol before an early night, the weather is expected to be a tad on the warm side from what the local weather station reports. But it is of no matter, I am a coyote of many travels and the heat has never slowed me down before, nor shall it this time! Miss Janeway has packed everything important we need into our two personal backpacks which feel about as heavy as a pregnant elephant on my back, but it is manageable.

I would like to point out, dear readers, that I do find Miss Janeway's sense of humor to be somewhat lacking in culture and tact however. Frankly, I find her to be somewhat perverse even. I did not fancy her dropping a poisonous spider in my lap during the bumpy ride from the airport to our hotel, then proceed to swat at it with her bare palms while feigning ignorance of how it got there in the first place! I fear this trip might be more interesting than I originally anticipated.

Entry 3: 14th June, 1982

Good morning readers, Wilbur C Montgomery here. The sun had not yet set upon our departure, but the weather seems pleasant enough. I do not know what the local weather station was talking about, warning us there may be a little heat expected over the next few days. I suspect the sun shall be shining soon and we shall be nice and toasty.

Since my last entry, we have since left the relative comfort of our transportation and are now making our way through the jungle on foot. Surprisingly, our guide showed up for his job and is currently doing a sterling job of leading the way towards what I am sure will be the story of the century!

I admire Miss Janeway's attitude and vigor, she has been a beacon of positivity since we awoke before the first cock's crow. She shoulders her heavy backpack with a determination I have seen in only but a few of the best explorers in my lifetime. I am sure with her at my side, I shall make it safely back to civilization with a story to tell for the generations! While I am straining under the weight, I shall bear it with a grim determination, the same determination that saw is through the great war!

Entry 4: 15th June, 1982

Those fucking bastards at the local weather station lied. A little heat? A little heat!? I have cooked Sunday roasts in ovens cooler than this Godforsaken jungle. It is only through stern determination and good old English manners that I have not clocked that damned old smiling goat we hired as a guide. But if he stops to turn around and laugh at me one more time, I swear I will find a ravine or other high place to toss him off of and see if he can learn to fly.

Miss Janeway is not helping either, not in her despicably short and revealing clothing she is wearing. The horny old goat does not seem to mind and openly stares at her. I have more control that that, however. I keep my gaze where it is proper, on her smug beautiful face. How the hell is she not even perspiring anyway? Somehow Miss Janeway still manages to smell of daffodils among the detritus of the rotting leaves and plants along the forest floor. She seems unencumbered by her uncomfortably heavy backpack as well; it is the only reason I have not given up yet. I will not be outdone by a woman of the common working class!

Entry5: 17th June, 1982

I knew it, that old bastard scampered off during the night, taking precious supplies with him. While I am grateful our packs are lighter for it, we are now at a deficit and our margin for error is non-existent. I have suggested we turn back and try make it back to civilization before our remaining supplies run out, but Miss Janeway seems to think from looking at the map, we are closer to our destination than we are our starting point. She suggests we just push on through and try get aid from the tribe's people as it is our greatest chance of survival.

While I am skeptical of her assertions, I do not know the area or topography well enough to know how accurate her assessment of our situation is. I am putting my trust in her knowledge of the area and the tribe's people, I do not have another choice.

Entry 5: 18th June, 1982

Sleep has not come easily, there has been a lot of rustling in the forest around our camp. Miss Janeway thinks it is the tribe we are looking for and they are simply investigating us to make sure we are not a threat. While I have not heard any snarling or growling to indicate a predator, there have been an unusual amount of strange bird calls, which my previous excursions into the wild seem to indicate my companion is correct and we are simply being investigated.

The sun is rising and I suspect the temperature shall soon join it. However, it seems our new friends may not wait for either such instance to occur before making their presence known. I shall endeavor to report back any updates post haste.

Entry 6: 20th June, 1982

Fucking Janeway and her fucking perverse sense of humor. It seems my companion understated just how friendly this tribe of water deer really are. Apparently, it is their custom to greet one another through...well...there is no polite way to say this, the greet one another through sexual intercourse. This might not have been a problem for Miss Janeway, whom seemed to thoroughly enjoy their greeting, several times I might add. But for myself being a man, as well as the hunting party we encountered being men as well, my greeting was not quite so pleasurable. While it was, in depth, it was neither fun nor right before the Churches eyes. However, as declining such a greeting could be construed as rude or even aggressive, Miss Janeway convinced me to accept their welcome.

While their outward appearance is fearsome, along with their unusual size rivaling that of most equines, the "gip-eun sup-ui aideul" are surprisingly gentle. A fact which I was infinitely grateful fur, considering their greeting consisted of holding hands with one of their members while another availed themselves of my posterior.

On a side note, it must be said that these savages have a unique affinity for the flora around them, they posses such medicinal knowledge that the special greeting salve used to facilitate the greeting minimized the pain and discomfort to near negligible levels and I suspect the more it is used, the easier and perhaps even more pleasurable it would become. This however, does not minimize the fact that I, a red-blooded male, had no choice but to partake in such deviances for the sake of research and my article.

Miss Janeway meanwhile threw herself whole-heartedly into the greeting, though I suspect it was more than a mere greeting by the time the fifth man said hello, considering it was a hunting party of only four. I shudder to think of how my posterior shall survive the greeting once we arrive at their village proper.