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You bound away into the jungle with the mad first mate in hot pursuit.
You leap across a crevasse and swing on a vine to roll down a steep
embankment. Crouching behind a wall of leaves you see the first mate run
into the clearing on all fours. War paint is streaked across his face and
he is holding a dagger between his teeth. Panting and howling like an
animal, he sniffs all around the clearing.
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8/5/2007 1:49:07 PM
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