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That night, a gale sweeps across the open ice shelf and buries your tent in snow. During your sleep, the canvas is forced in upon the four of you and your sleeping furs become soaking wet. You awake at dawn with terrible cramp in both of your legs. It takes nearly an hour of massaging your frozen limbs before you can stand properly. You are beginning to wish that you had never set foot in this icy hell.

Turn to 167.

Text copyright © 1984 Joe Dever.
Illustrations copyright © 1984 Gary Chalk.