As far as I know, I may possibly be the last remaining member of a once great tribe, a tribe of wanderers whose chief had a knack of getting lost with his little band of followers. . . .hence the often heard wail of where the "Fuqroui", which outsiders mistook for a battle cry declaring the name of the approaching tribe--so often that it became the common tribe name over time. History tells of a great wind howling through the desert many years ago that created such a cloud of dust that the tribe wandered apart and were separated from each other--so far that the cry of Fuqroui could no longer be heard between the tribe members. . .
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