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During the long journey out to the further fringes of humanity and civilization, I had plenty of time to think about the task ahead of me. The most dreadful images kept popping into my mind as I walked amongst the overhanging trees. The only way I managed to continue on was by convincing myself that a writer couldn't be half as bad as an Ape-Man and that if this Writer Rundy lived so far from civilization, he was probably a timid and very mild man.
The natives were very excited to see me. Apparently they seemed to think my appearance always heralded much excitement. However, when I showed them the papers Boss-man had given me, I realized my task would be more difficult than I had anticipated. The natives were a curious bunch, but in the end quite savage, and equally illiterate.
To communicate my mission I was reduced to syllabic grunting and wild gestures. Though awkward at first, I managed to convey what I was searching for. The natives seemed surprised to learn that I was searching for Writer Rundy, but, after holding a whispered consultation, they agreed to take me to the Writer's lair.
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Little did I realize how literally they meant the description. We took a short walk to the bottom of a steep hill. At the top there was a forbiddingly dark cave toward which the natives pointed.
They explained that Writer Rundy didn't much care for strangers and kept himself secluded away for long hours. They said he was very strange but generally harmless, so long as I brought no writing for him to critique.
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