“Well now, that’s more like it.” Pobblebonk chewed greedily on the jerky, pausing only to spit a little gristle here and there.

“Now,” said Thistlethwaite. “There’s more where that came from if you follow through on your end of the bargain.”

“One moment, good captain.” Juices still running down his chin, Pobblebonk trotted off and returned a moment later with an oilskin. “When your schooner put in, they built a cairn with this and a few supplies in it. I took the supplies as a little rent against their charges for the use of my harbor, but I suppose the message is yours now that you’ve settled up.”

Thistlethwaite took the oilskin and unwrapped it, revealing paper–the torn out front and back leaves of some books, by the looks of them. The first note was written in ink and a bold hand:

LANDFALL 30 JUNE 1805
Ten Men from a Crew of Fourteen
Bound for the Antipodes
Stopped here for Repairs and Provisions

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