The Phantom and the Lost Treasure of Atlantis
By Ronald Kowalski, Jr.
Based on a story thread created by Aman King and with the assistance of friends of the 21st Phantom – The Ghost Who Walks
Page 1To the memory of Lee Falk.
Without him, the jungles of Bangalla and the dark corners of the world would be far more dangerous places.
For more information, contact Ronald Kowalski, Jr. at
Page 1For those who came in late... over 400 years ago, on a remote beach of Bangalla, friendly Pygmies found the sole survivor of a pirate attack. This man swore upon the skull of his father's murderer that he shall devote his life to the destruction of piracy, greed, cruelty and injustice and that his descendants shall follow him. That was the 1st Phantom. Now the legacy, passed on over 20 generations, is followed by the 21st Phantom. Thought to be the same man, the Ghost who walks, man who cannot die, the Phantom works alone...
It seemed like it was going to be another relaxed day in the Deep Woods. Rex and Tomm were playing with the twins and Diana was resting in the shade of a tree. Miss Tagama had given up all hope of teaching class today and was talking with her Bandar friends. The Phantom was reading over his forefathers' adventures when a piece of paper fell out of the Chronicle. The Phantom picked it up and starting reading...
'Let me begin by observing first of all, that nine thousand was the sum of years which had elapsed since the war which was said to have taken place between those who dwelt outside the Pillars of Heracles and all who dwelt within them. This war I am going to describe. Of the combatants on the one side, the city of Athens was reported to have been the leader and to have fought out the war. The combatants on the other side were commanded by the kings of Atlantis, which, as per legend, was an island greater in extent than Libya and Asia, and when afterwards sunk by an earthquake, became an impassable barrier of mud to voyagers sailing from hence to any part of the ocean.'
The parchment contained a cryptic map.
Our Phantom was intrigued by the contents of the parchment. There was no reference whatsoever to it in the chronicles. It was just one lone piece of paper out of nowhere. The only lead he could get out of it was the map. But it was no less than a puzzle itself. 'Does it carry any meaning after so many hundreds of years,' he wondered? The Phantom kept brooding over the piece of parchment.
The question in his mind was 'Can there be a land unknown to man today when every inch of the earth and so many planets have been mapped?'
Away from the Deep Woods, past the jungles of the interior, past the Misty Mountains, the sands further north, and over the emerald green of the Mediterranean, a research vessel alights from a Greek port. The head of the team aboard is a young English archaeologist, Dr. Simon Day. He follows in his grandfather’s footsteps and continues a search that began over sixty years earlier with the finding of an incomplete parchment, stories of Atlantis, a lost map, and of riches. Unbeknownst to Simon, the promise of riches was the motivation that drew his backers. Men of dubious means had outfitted the expedition and protected their investment with a crew of similar 'shady character'. What lay ahead was unknown, but as he stood at the bow of the ship, the wind in his hair, Simon was full of optimism. He had one other legacy from his grandfather, a strange pendant that he wore around his neck, the Phantom's Good Mark.
Simon was a 7-foot tall, 240-pound giant, much like his grandfather. He was a well-educated gentleman and a good archaeologist. He did not know what the pendant was. The only thing he knew about it was that his grandfather believed it was a lucky pendant.
Even Simon's grandfather did not know much about the pendant. The only one in the family who knew what is was, was his great-great-grand father, who had worked next to the "unknown commander" of the Jungle Patrol. Only he knew that his commander was the 16th Phantom and that the Days, including Simon, were descendents of the ex-pirate Red Beard.
Fifteen years earlier Simon Day had had a college-cum-room mate named Kit Walker as his best friend. A good athlete, Simon practiced boxing with an equally adept Kit. He later became an Olympic champion but by profession, an archaeologist.
Although Simon and Kit had been close during their college days, in the intervening years they had had very little contact. Occasionally, short, cryptic notes from his old college friend would arrive at Simon's home announcing Kit's imminent arrival in England. The notes would be followed, usually quite late at night, by a knock on the door and the entry of his old friend. He would travel alone except for his large, fierce-looking but well-behaved canine (Simon could never be sure if it was a dog or a wolf).
An air of mystery and adventure had always surrounded Kit, and over the years it had grown deeper in Simon's mind, all the more so given his friend's mysterious, unplanned visits and equally unpredictable departures. As his research vessel pulled slowly out of port, Simon's thoughts turned to his old friend, wherever he was, "Well, Kit, you're not the only one running off on adventures now. Let's see what life has in store!"
Meanwhile, in Simon's cabin, a dark, shadowy figure was quietly, efficiently rummaging through Simon's files, taking careful note of a small piece of parchment, carefully preserved in a plastic envelope...
Still standing on the bow of the ship, Simon did not hear the approach of an unexpected visitor. He started when he felt a hand touch the middle of his back and half-spun about only to see the co-leader of the expedition, Dr. Rhea Crowley, the tall, dark-haired, beautiful woman who had followed Simon around the world on his many expeditions.
Simon smiled and instantly relaxed, “Oh, hi Rhea, I was just…”
“Just staring out at the sea dreaming of some great discovery, no doubt,” Rhea leaned in towards Simon and gazed out towards the horizon. “I swear Simon, you always seem to be looking out for the next great voyage or lost city. Some days it’s a wonder you remember to tie your shoes! You know, sometimes the great discoveries are so close you can reach out and touch them.” Rhea looked up at Simon, but his eyes were already scanning the horizon.
“Simon, did you hear a word I said?”
“Oh, yes Rhea, I heard you. I was just wondering how Kit would handle a new adventure like this one.”
Rhea rolled her eyes, “Kit Walker. Again. Simon, you do know that you don’t need Kit Walker to lead you on this expedition. You’ve made more discoveries than archaeologists twice your age, and when THIS discovery comes through…”
“If, Rhea, if it comes through--if we can find Atlantis.”
“Alright Simon, have it your way--if we find Atlantis. I know we will. All of the research says it will be there. It has to be.”
“Well I hope so. The backers have put up a lot of money to launch this expedition and get us on this ship—“
Rhea interrupted, “Oh, Simon, I almost forgot. Captain Singh wants to see us up on the bridge. He has some questions about the new course you gave him before we left port.”
Simon and Rhea turned and made their way towards the bridge of the vessel, still talking about when or if Atlantis would be found and Simon’s never-ending pursuit of his old friend Kit.
Meanwhile, back in the Deep Woods, day had turned to night and the candles that burned in Skull Cave had grown short from the hours of burning the 21st Phantom had subjected them to. All around his desk, countless volumes of Phantom chronicles lay strewn about like so many dead leaves on a forest floor.
Diana approached her husband who was quietly turning pages in another volume, this one written by the 14th Phantom, more than a century before. Hearing Diana approach, the Phantom closed the great book and let out a sigh.
“What’s the matter, dear?” Diana asked.
“It’s this map fragment and this cryptic note written centuries ago. There’s just the one reference and not another mention of the war or Atlantis in any of the other Phantom chronicles. There are just a few paragraphs and then a dead end—very odd—especially for a Phantom.”
Diana draped her arms around her husband’s shoulders and looked at the many volumes that now littered the floor of Skull Cave. She could feel the tension and frustration growing in him as the muscles of his neck and shoulders flexed uncontrollably, almost like a cat ready to pounce.
“Atlantis…hmmm. I think I know someone who could help you with that topic.”
Instantly the Phantom understood. Turning to face Diana, a broad smile broke out on his face. “Of course! How could I have been so blind! Simon! If anyone knows if Atlantis exists, he will.” Rising from his desk, the Phantom took Diana by the hand and led her deeper into Skull Cave, “Come on, we have a message to send!”
As Rhea and Simon entered the chart room, Captain Singh, a thin, dark-skinned, old sailor was standing over a pile of maps, peering intently. His first mate stood at his side and the two were having a loud discussion when Simon and Rhea joined them.
“Ah, Dr. Day, I’m glad you joined us.” The captain’s English was heavily accented from his years spent growing up in Madras before heading out to sea when he was a boy. “I have questions about the new heading you requested.”
Simon walked over to the charts with Rhea just a half-step behind him. As he reached the table he could see the maps spread before him—the western Mediterranean and northwest Africa.
“It’s very simple, captain. Sail due west until we’re past Dakar and then due south to the Walker Archipelago.”
“Dr. Day, I’ve sailed these waters for most of my life. My family has worked the seas along both coasts of Africa for hundreds of years. If you want Walker Archipelago, the best way, the shortest way, is to follow the coast after we pass Gibraltar and---“
Simon put up his hand, silencing Singh, “Captain, I know that as well as you, but you also need to know this. We’re not the only ones searching for Atlantis. Others seek the same prize as we do.”
Waving towards the map, Singh shouted, “All the more reason for us to get to Walker as fast as we can!”
Simon turned his head to one side and took a deep breath. Rhea knew he was about to dig in his heels, “Captain Singh, others are following our lead in this search. Still other parties are following their own trails. I want to be sure we are not followed—even at sea. If we follow common sea lanes, we will never know which ships are moving cargo and which ships are after us. Only be taking a due west course can we get ourselves far away from pursuers—or at least be able to see who they are before we make the turn south. Do you understand?”
Singh and his first mate shared a heated exchange in their native tongue, continually pointing at the charts and marking the map off western Africa as Simon had proposed. After a few minutes of hard conversation, Singh’s first mate trudged out of the chart room and onto the bridge of the ship.
Singh looked back at Simon and Rhea, “My first mate is my cousin, Suraj. We have made many voyages together over the years. He is at home on the sea, but does not like to take chances. That is why he argued to take the faster course to the Walkers.” Singh paced around his map table before tossing back his shoulders and looking Simon in the eye. “But I command this vessel Dr. Day; we will follow your course.”
Simon nodded to the captain, “Thank you, Captain Singh. Good day to you.”
As he and Rhea started to leave the chart room, Singh cleared his throat, “We will follow the course for now. Know this: This expedition is YOURS Dr. Day, but the ship and crew are MINE. They obey me. If I feel there is a risk to them, I will plot my own course and make my own decisions. Do you understand?”
Simon turned and took a half step toward the captain. Their eyes locked as the two men took each other’s measure. After what seemed like hours, Simon nodded in Singh’s direction. “I understand, Captain. Very well, indeed. But just remember that when we find what we seek, the rewards will be great—beyond your wildest dreams!”
“I have very large dreams, Dr. Day.”
“Even so. What we seek is the greatest lost treasure that remains. Egypt, Greece, Rome—all were beggars compared to Atlantis! And the treasure has never been found—bits and pieces perhaps—but never Atlantis itself.”
Simon paused, letting his words sink in. He moved closer to Singh until their eyes were just inches apart across the map table. “Think of it, Singh! The gold of the ages--there for the asking—and all to the men brave enough to take it!” Simon made a snatching motion with his hand. Singh followed it, transfixed.
“Of course there will be risks, but rewards as well. Now, I think you’re a man who can judge risk and reward—you wouldn’t be here otherwise. You steer the ship—I’ll get you Atlantis.”
The Captain was silent for a moment and began to walk around his chart table, “My family knows these waters. Too many of mine have died here by the ocean’s hand or that of…others. So yes, I know risk and danger…and reward. As long as the share is good, my ship will be there. Why you’ve chosen the Walker Archipelago, I have no idea. It’s nothing but a pile of rock. Why Bangalla holds on to that worthless outpost in the Atlantic is a mystery, but if you want the Walkers, you’ll have them—six days, best speed!”
Simon smiled, “Excellent! Six days and the adventure truly begins. Good day, Captain.” With that, Simon and Rhea left the chart room and began making their way back to their cabins. The ship was an old one, lacking well-appointed state rooms, but it was still quite serviceable; a non-descript, old cargo vessel making its way due west towards the Mediterranean and headed for the Atlantic.
“Simon?”
“Yes Rhea?”
“Some speech in there. Do you really think that Atlantis has that much gold?”
“Who knows Rhea? Who knows? But one this is certain.” Rhea looked up at Simon, curiously raising an eyebrow, “I had to make Singh believe that there IS enough treasure to get him on our side. You know this will be a long voyage with many stops along the way, but until we take the first step, we might as well just sit in London flipping through old maps!
“But Simon, what if there’s no gold? I mean, you’re not Indiana Jones stumbling onto treasures every time you go out on a dig.”
“I know Rhea, but all the legends speak of gold and riches. There has to be SOME truth to it somewhere.”
“Well let’s hope there’s enough in the Walker’s to satisfy the captain and his crew!”
At that very moment, in western Africa, a radio operator was receiving a message. Reading the transmitted letters and numbers revealed only gibberish, but when the message was carried to another, more powerful man, the decoded message quickly took form. “We make for the Walker Archipelago…six days…make your plans quickly.” The man sat back and his chair and smiled an evil smile.
Back on the ship, as Simon and Rhea neared their cabins, the ship’s radio operator approached them with a different message written hastily on a piece of paper. Simon read it quickly and turned to Rhea with a confused look on his face.
“Is something wrong, Simon?”
“Wrong, no. Just curious. Somehow or other Kit Walker sent us a message via radiophone. He wants to ask me a question about…Atlantis.”
Meanwhile deep in the jungles of Bangalla, the Phantom was sending other messages and making plans. If what he had heard about his friend Simon’s voyage was true, he would have to move quickly. The old jungle saying says, ‘The Phantom moves faster than a lightning flash’. The question was, to where?