My dear Lady Misericordia,

I hope this letter finds you well. We, meanwhile, have had the most alarming and eventful day.

We awoke to find the morning already windy and grey - clouds were massing on the horizon, slate grey and heavy, growing rapidly into a storm front - and as we tried to start packing our equipment, the storm came sliding in, casting everything into shadow, and the wind began to stir up the tree tops, creaking and slashing them together.

Then the storm broke upon us, a great whirling, whipping snowstorm and in moment the world was nothing but a solid maelstrom of white, and great wall of snowy wind that tore through the encampment with unstoppable fury.

We blundered about in the blizzard, trying to secure everything we had brought with us, not least the reindeer, before stumbling into the tents and collapsing into a exhausted heap while the tempest battered the canvas around us and howled louder than any of us could shout.

There was nothing for it but to wait the storm out. Slowly the thudding of the wind grew less, as the snow built up round the tent, creating a wall against the fury. We huddled together to keep warm and shared out hot drinks from our flasks, and dried meat from the Sami.

Eventually the storm passed and we dug ourselves out of the piled snow with picks, shovels and hands.

In the wake of the blizzard the whole landscape had been recreated anew, all marks and traces of human traffic vanished, the wood beside us buried under snow. And the reindeer gone.

At first we assumed that they must have taken shelter in the wood, as the Sami were sure that they would not have moved far in the storm, but they were not there, nor were they anywhere to be seen in the empty expanse of the valley around us.

And as the clouds cleared from the sky, the sun once more became dazzling, so that it was hard to make out anything in the distance. What's more, the camp was in a small dip or bowl under the trees, so that we had to climb up through the powdery freshly fallen snow, making each step and arduous haul.

As the Sami spread out in search of their animals, I set about checking the equipment that we had so hastily stowed before the storm and as I secured a tarpaulin that was flapping in the falling wind, an idea came to me.

I pulled the tarpaulin from the sleigh and dug out a quantity of stout, heavy rope and then I went in search of Harry.

I must say this in favour of the lad, no matter what our disagreements of earlier, he agreed to my plan eagerly.

Together we secured the tarpaulin to a rude frame constructed from parts of our packs and then made it fast to the rope. Then Harry tied the rope firmly round his own waist, folding the tarpaulin around him and, with me on the other end of the rope, began to climb the nearest tree.

It was, I must admit, a good thing that Oxshott was nearby and heard my shouting in time, otherwise Harry might have been lost forever to the endless Arctic skies.

The wind was a good deal stronger above the trees than we had supposed and the moment Harry unfurled the tarpaulin, it snapped open wide in the wind and he was hauled upwards on our man-sized kite, up, up into the air.

Caught by surprise as I was trying to secure the rope to a sleigh, I was pulled off my feet by the force, pulled helter skelter along the ground, face first, spluttering out cries for help between mouthfuls of snow.

All of a sudden I was pulled up short against an immoveable object: Oxshott, who had grabbed hold of the rope and was hauling at the giant kite, like a boy in the park.

"Wait, wait," shouted Harry against the wind, "Don't pull me down yet, I can see something."

I scrambled up and tied the rope off around a tree and then returned to the crowd that was now gathering around Oxshott as he tried the control the kite with Harry dangling below it, as it twisted to and fro in the wind.

"Bring him down this instant!" bellowed Lord Daunt, stamping down through the snow.

"Not yet, not yet!" shouted Harry, "Just stop it spinning, I need to get my bearings!"

Oxshott strained every muscle, pulling the kite up into the wind.

"There they are! There they are! I can see the reindeer, away to the east!" and with one hand hold his cap on Harry pointed out over the snow into the blinding distance.

With an answering shout the Sami were off in pursuit and the rest of us leapt upon the rope, all heaving with Oxshott until Harry was safely back on terra firma.

"That was the single most terrifying and exciting thing I have ever done!"

"That," said Lord Daunt, "Was the single most courageous and idiotic thing I have ever seen. I suppose that was your idea, Hope?"

"It was, sir," I said, for I must admit I was rather proud of it.

Lord Daunt then proceded to let me know just how idiotic he thought it was and just how little he thought I had to be proud of. I must admit I was glad when the Sami returned with the reindeer and interrupted his tirade as, as far as I could tell, he had every intention of going on all night.

The Sami were, it seemed, still having trouble with one bull reindeer, who was evidently the one who had led the herd off during the storm and was now very determined not to be brought back into camp.

As they approached the tents he broke away from the other animals and, snorting and pawing at the ground, came hurtling at us through the encampment, tossing his great sweeping antlers this way and that.

Without a second's hesitation, Oxshott stepped into his path and seized him by the antlers, bringing him to a dead stop. For a moment the animal was caught by surprise but then it shook itself and tossed its great head, straining against Oxshott's grip. With that the Baronet let go with one hand and neatly punched the reindeer on the nose.

The poor creature staggered backwards and, knowing what was likely to happen next now that his blood was up, I rushed forward to grab Oxshott before he could finish it. He shook me off into the snow as if I was barely there, but within moments the Sami had hold of him, hauling him back away from the reindeer and he struggled against them.

"Oxshott, stop playing the bally idiot!" roared Lord Daunt, "We've had enough stupidity for one day. You've given that poor reindeer a red nose, leave the bally thing alone!"

Reluctantly, and with a fierce look for the both the reindeer and me, Baronet Oxshott shrugged off the Sami and stomped away through the snow.

It was not long after this that our guide, a cheerful and weather-beaten Finn called Jaakko, who insists we call him Jim, at last arrived with the dog sleds that are to be our transport further north. The dogs were a boisterous, noisy pack, full of life and energy, who look more than eager to be ready to start tomorrow morning.

Finally, just as we were packing everything for the night, preparing for an early departure in the morning, Oxshott returned in the company of two of the Sami and in a slightly improved mood. It turned out that the three of them had gone fishing, making a hole in the ice of a nearby lake and dropping their lines through it into the water beneath.

Oxshott had managed to catch a single, small fish, and he proudly removed its head, waggling it at me on the end of his finger like a puppet, explaining how he was going to have to make an extra small plaque to mount it on.

I am growing, much against my instincts, a little worried about Baronet Oxshott.

Anyway, I shall close now, so that I can send this letter back with one of the Sami in the morning. The wind is blowing once more, flapping the skins of the tent back and forth but Oxshott and the Sami are singing songs at each other over the noise. Outside the reindeer are ruminating and the dogs barking and whining to each other and the snow is hissing against the trees and it is all a curious, comforting sound - I do believe I am becoming quite the adventurer after all.

Yours,

Your kite-flying and sleigh-riding

Timothy Hope, Esq, Tutor

PS Jim tells me that polar bears have been spotted coming much further south than usual this season. Imagine if we actually see one!