The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-11-06
Copyright. 1898. by william LIE Queux.

prayer and salvation be with the master of
the first and last our Lord Mohammed. OF
a verify have been blessed with blessings
abundant, and enveoped by the cloak of
his protection. The adventures which have
befallen me through forty years of Bedouin
life are many and diverse. but none
founding those 1 encountered when in
search of that mysterious phantom of the
Sudan, the Fatassi
We, the desert pirates of the tribe En-
mira. dreaded from the Tnghert even to
the white city of the Sultan of Sokoto, had
left the marshes beside Lake Chad after
pillaging great caravan from the north.
and were moving eastward across the stern
sterile desert in the direction of Gao, or
Kou-Kou, as it is popularity known among
us, where we could dispose of our stolen
merchandise
For months we had Travelled across that
immensely of red-brown sands, where the
very birds lose themselves, our camels often
stumbling upon some skull, tibia, or even
an entire skeleton, the remains of bygone
generations of travellers who had persisted
on those lonely wastes. The sun blazed
fiercely in the flaming sky, the lips were
parched and cracked, and the mouth filled
by the ever-whirling sand. All the water we
had was warm, and having been in the skins
for many days was full of worms. A scaly
viper occasionally crossed our route, and at
long intervals the swift flight of an antelope
was seen. For days, months nothing had
rejoiced our eyes save the deceitful vision of
the mirage, until one evening we decided
upon a three days halt for rest.
on the previous day our vision had been
gaddehed by the sight of a small well,
where we had refilled our water skins;
therefore we were enabled to take our ease,
although, being in an entirely unfamiliar
country the watchfulness of our sentries
was never for single instant relinquished.
We were travelling with the sun only as our
guide therefore knew not into what terri
tory we had entered, save that it was as
barren and nhospitable region as it has
ever been our lot to encounter-a shadow
less land of solitude, abandonment and
misery.
In our raid upon the caravan near Lake
Chad bundle of papers had come into our
possession, and these had been handed to
me as being a scholar and able to speak the
tongue of the Franks, but travelling con-
stantly 1 had not had either time or in
clination to examine them. That night,
however, alone in my tent, 1 united
and spread them out. Most of them,
including kind of diary. were
written in the language of the
Roumis, and as some bore the image of
the Liberty of the Franks concluded that
they must have belonged to some zouave
officer in the northern region of the desert
who had probably persisted in an attempt
to penetrate south.
One paper, however, the last I took up,
was written in my own tongue, and read
it eagerly 1t was an official letter dated
from the Ministry of War in Paris urging
its recipient to secure, if possible during his
explorations the far-famed Fatassi of Koti,
as the French government were extremely
anxious to obtain possession of 1t, and by
that letter offered to pay any sheikh or
tribesman a large sum Of money in ex-
change for it,
put the letter down, smiled, and resumed
my pipe. The Franks are, indeed a strange
people. Having conquered us in Algeria
they believe themselves masters of the
world The hapless explorer, whoever he
may have been had probably died, and GER
tainIy his hopes would never be realized, for
the Fatassi of the learned marabout Koti
was the phantom book Of the Sudan. There
was not clansman in the whole Of the
Great Desert who did not know all about
that priceless volume, yet no one had ever
seen it. 1t had been lost to the world for
ages.
Mohaman Koti the learned Arab scholar,
who lived at Jenne, near Timbuktu, in the
year $50 of the Hegira, was the most es-
teemed and even tyrannica, councillor of
our ancestor its powerful Sultan. Accord
ing to the story common among us his
authority is said to have originated thus.
The king one day distributed some dried
dates to his court and KOt, who had re-
Gently arrived. was overlooked. Shortly
NI.aI
a number of people, and to them distributed
fresh dates. This miracle-for we have no
fresh dates in this region of the far South
having reached the Sultan's ears he dis
cerned that upon Koti was set the divine
seal and from that moment gave him all
his confidence. A few years later the mara
bout edited history of the great Kingdoms
of Ganata, Songhoi and Timbuktu, the only
history of those once all-powerful centers
of a civilization now decayed and forgotten.
Families since grown rich and powerful and
the chiefs of various countries were shown
to be of very humble origin, ofttimes being
the offspring of slaves.
But while the book was being written
news was conveyed to the Sultan of Jenne
that the Songhois had revolted and had COM
bined with the great nation of Mossi to at
tack and capture its capital, therefore in
order to save his great store of treasure he
at once had it made up into single camel
loads taken out of the city and secreted in
various distant spots in the confines of his
empire. In these circumstances it became
necessary, of course, to keep a strict and
minute indication of each spot where the
wealth of the capital was concealed in order
that it might be recovered after the war,
therefore Koti was ordered to inscribe in his
book directions how to unearth the great
store of gold and gems, the spoils OF the
wars of four centuries. This, according to
our book the Tarik Sudan, he did, and
the precious manuscript was given into the
Sultan's own keeping.
Ere one moon had waned, however, the
learned historian died suddenly at Tindirma,
where a little white mosque-like house
marks his grave to this day 1t is supposed
that he was poisoned by order of the Sui
tan so that he should not divulge the where
abouts of the secreted treasure. The war
was afterwards fought, proving disastrous
to the Sultan, who was compelled to fly
and it is believed was afterwards Preacher
ously murdered. as rulers were apt to be in
those turbulent days. But the priceless
volume and guide to the enormous treasure
of ancient Jenne and Timbuktu became lost
to all.
For nearly five centuries the recovery of
the Fatassi has been the dream of rich and