"Face it Uncle Franz, we're lost!" sighed Feldwebel Ulfric Gruber, nephew of the infamous cartographer and recently transferred to the newly created Korps von Führern (Corps of Guides).
"We're not lost, people just don't know where we are..." muttered Herr Gruber in response. "Help me with this map. We'll sort things out soon enough. We can't have that idiot Voltaire publishing any more of his 'Wo is Gruber?' kinderbücher now can we? The Herzog bought a box load of the damn things and gives them to every noble with children that visits him. Most embarrassing..."
"You're holding it upside down. Again." grunted Ulfric, getting somewhat tetchy.
"Really?!? Ha! Twice in one day. These Byelgorodniyans really can't make a decent map can they? This would never happen with one of mine." laughed Franz, totally at odds with reality once again. "Right, have a look down that road there and tell me what you see..."
"I can see the backs of all the trees we walked past just now Uncle." growled Ulfric.
"Well then, that means it can only be this way..." said Franz turning about face yet again, completely unaware of his nephew picking up a large branch and testing it's weight with a couple of practice swings before following his Uncle with real purpose in his stride at last.
|Nobody is sure who left the second 'a' out of Klaatü on the sign.|
At least nobody is willing to admit to it anyway...
And so it went for the next two days until they were found by a cavalry patrol, half a dozen miles from where they had started out...