Disclaimer: The Disney Company has full rights to Tarzan. I only created the characters that you've never heard of before.

A/N: An update? Where did this come from? Who knows.


May 25th, 1872, Beach

Multiple strange things happened today that I can not explain beyond the belief that I am surrounded by utter buffoons (excluding my mother of course).

We reached the beach in the early morning hours, just as I was rising to start the day. I skipped my usual morning fencing practice (which I only bothered learning in order to humor the tyrant of a man who once called himself my father; May his soul burn in the fiery depths of Hell for all I care), and took instead to assisting the men unload the cargo. I was giddy from excitement. I had never been in a jungle before, and only knew what was written about in books and the occasional story told by a wealthy businessman who owned land on the continent.

My mother was not quite as... exuberant, as I was per say. She slept in most of the morning and was reluctant to venture out of her room. My mother is an outdoors type of woman, but she was adamantly against my pursuit of the mythical Nfumu Ngui. She's the one who decided to join me on my quest, so she has no one to blame but herself for choosing to live in the jungle for the next month. Secretly, I am quite pleased she is alongside me. It would have been a lonely month. No members of my crew dare to set foot past the tree lines at nightfall, which would have left me on my own in the dangerous land.

After we finished I began doing inventory of my supplies and found two boxes missing. One was of research books I had brought with me for reference. In hindsight it might have been a bit difficult to tow them with us as we moved from place to place but at the time it seemed like a good idea. Unnervingly, the second missing box was one that held a large sum of guns and ammunition. I hoped it was due to a mistake, and that they had just forgotten to put it on the boat, but at the back of my mind I had a feeling it was something more. Even now as I write this I seem to be a bit suspicious of my crew who all claim to have not even seen the box. One or two of them lying would have given away the truth, but the fact that they all said they had not seen it had eased my over active imagination a bit.

After I questioned the entire crew about the missing supplies I began to examine the entrance to the jungle and found something rather puzzling. Faint indents of human feet were covering the ground leading from where the sand met the earth, past the thicket of trees that surrounded the beach, and into the darkness of the dense jungle. They were barefoot, and as far as the crew had told me, none of the men would dare step foot past the tree line, let alone with no shoes on. I figure there might be a native tribe nearby and one of its members had wandered farther than usual, stumbling upon the beach recently. There was no other explination for what I had found.

Then at dinner, the cook for the men who are staying on the beach for the next month announced that his box of fresh fruit had gone missing. He was quite upset and began to yell at the men, questioning who had stolen it. This time the box of fruits had been seen by other members, as it had been counted with the rest of the stock earlier that evening.

Missing boxes, mysterious footprints... what next? I'm going to see a flying gorilla? I chuckle at the thought. Mother and I are heading out tomorrow morning at sunrise. Hopefully we can make good time and find a nice place to set up a base camp deep into the jungle where it will be close enough to find when night is falling.

Until tomorrow night, then.


A/N: Hehehe. Flying gorilla's you say? I think we can make something like that happen, but not for a few chapters, James old boy.