 Tarzan and Darno, in passing through an unfamiliar section of jungle, come upon the remnant of the Burton Ashley expedition. The four, Major Burton Ashley, Jeanette Burton, Dr. Wong Tai, and Terence O'Rourke are lost. Tarzan offers to lead them to safety. In defense of the party, the ape man kills an enormous, yellow-skinned, half-human creature and then conceals Jeanette and the others high in the branches of a tree. Leaving them in the care of Darno, he goes to Reconoiter Returning, he leads the group out of immediate danger to the bank of a distant river. Proceeding cautiously downstream, they hear the sound of strange, guttural voices coming from behind a thick tangle of underbrush. Noiselessly, Tarzan parts the bushes and appears through the opening into a clearing beside the rushing stream. Jeanette, close behind him, stares terrified over the ape man's shoulder. Good heavens! Tarzan, there! Be quiet, Darno. Oh, Tarzan, what is it? Look there. Métonne de presse, yellow men. May they all see and protect us. There are at least 30 of them. I do. We're in for it, Tarzan. Big Harry, we stepped out of the frying pan straight into the fire. You're right, Major. We're in a bad spot. Could this be the group we heard last night? Those drums? No, we left them behind. This must be another party. Look there, on the river bank. Isn't that a dugout? I hate if we could get to that boat. That's what we're going to try for. It is a long way from here. They will see us before we have half covered the distance. We'll take the chance. Suckly blue, we must. It is the only one we have. Right, Lieutenant, with the boat under us, we can paddle out to the middle. Make faces at the yellow here, then, and maybe reach the Congo. Providing this beam empties into the Congo, what do you think, Tarzan? O'Rourke may be right. We'll work down to the edge of the river, to that bail-bab-tree with a screen of bushes. Come on. We have the advantage with our rifles. They're armed only with spears and clubs. Even so, we couldn't kill more than a few of them before the others got to us. Here. Now, when we leave these bushes, we'll be in the open. They'll see us. If we can take them by surprise, maybe we can make it. Yes, it will be a sweet race, and the devil take the heim most. Make straight for the boat. Don't stop until you're in it. Dono, you go first. I'll bring up the rear. Ready? Ready. Then, go. With his rifle ready, Dono bounds from behind the concealing screen of underbrush. Straight toward the dugout, he sprints along the open river bank. Close behind him, the others follow in a desperate attempt to reach the canoe. Before they have covered a third of the distance, a piercing, weird cry of warning resounds through the jungle. Faster, Dono. They've seen us. We'll never make it. Keep going, Jeanette. Ashley. Wong, faster. At the cry, the yellow giants squatting around the fire in the center of the clearing spring to their feet. For an instant, they stare in silent surprise at the fleeing whites. Then, yelling savagely, they leap into action. With uncanny speed, they bound forward toward the dugout in an effort to intercept the fugitives. Gaging the distance between himself and the boat, Dono realizes that he and his companions can never reach it before they are caught by the yellow demons. We cannot make it, Tarzan. They run like antelope. We'll have to give them a fight. Then, devils are closer to the boat now than we are. Tarzan, gather on, Jeanette. Do the best you can. Here they come, the heathen devils. Let them have it. Shrieking, bellowing, many now spouting blood from gunshot wounds, the yellow men rush close and surround the little group of whites as they stand fighting desperately for their lives. The challenging cry of the great apes rings out piercingly above the sounds of battle. One great yellow savage, his shoulder wet and red with blood, charges Tarzan, hurls his heavy spear. The eight man leaps aside, then in close. His night flashes once, twice. With a weird death scream, the yellow hulk lurches forward, calls on Tarzan, burying him to the ground by sheer weight. Before the eight man can toss the dead savage aside, he is smothered by a swarm of yellow bodies. Gradually, the shrill yells, the shots, the sounds of battle die out. Tarzan is jerked roughly to his feet. He looks around to see his companions minus their weapons, captives of the yellow savages. Hello Tarzan, by the chance, the luck is against us. Never mind. Heathen, we thinned out the devils anyway. There is pride of them dead and half a dozen wounded. Are any of you hurt? I have two or three scratches from spears, no more. How are you, Jeanette? Oh, I guess I'm all right. What will they do to us, Uncle Jim? I wish I knew, my dear. Keep us stiff up a little. We can only guess at that memoiselle. It looks very much looked in as if our doom were already sealed. Be fire. Be girly. Come in. Throw us in. They're leading us straight to it, my friend. Moundier Tarzan, do you suppose they are cannibal? It may be. Look, they are tying Ashley and look Dr. Wong together, back to back. And, oh, look, and Jeanette. Our turn now. Double up your hands when they bind your wrists. They're bleeding out. Well, they decide our fate, oh God. At least we've escaped being roasted. For the time being, I say, I believe Luton and Darno guessed rightly. These creatures are cannibals. Why, they are throwing their dead into the river. They wouldn't do that if they were cannibals. They are feeding those dead bodies to the crocodiles. Good heavens. The water is alive with them. By Joe, it sounds as if they were calling them. Well, they are stacking our weapons down there near the boat. Thank heaven they're not throwing them in the river. They might just as well for all the good they are to us now. Oh, if we could just get out of these bonds. We would only be caught and tied up again, my child. There are too many. We could not escape. Your bow and arrows and the rope Tarzan. Parla, there. Close to Jeanette and Aurora. Yes, I know. The talking drama. That savage pounding on a hollow log with a club. The talking drama is right. Listen. Communicating with the party we escaped from last night. I'll wait her. That means we shall have visitors shortly. I could, Tarzan. Yes. If you were free, could you reach your bow and arrows and get away into the trees? Yes, but I can't leave you on the others. But Tarzan, you could help us. These drips of hide were tied with her strong. Take me a long time to work loose. Move your arms a little. Your hands. Can you? Not much. Tied so close together, I'll hurt your arms if I move mine. Never mind that. I can feel the knot under my fingers. A very clumsy one. I think I can work it loose. Now, move your arms again. So, bonk, bonk. Now, sit still. While Darno works feverishly at the knot binding his arms with those of Tarzan, several yellow men pile wood on the fire until it becomes a roaring blaze. Two huge brutes squat on the ground beside a hollowed out log. With sticks, they commence to beat slowly, rhythmically on the improvised drum. The remaining yellow men, grasping spears and clubs and chanting monotonously, circle the fire in an awkward shuffling dance. As each savage passes the little group of captives, he shakes his spear and glares at them from cruel, bloodshot eyes. Hey, it's a bushler. Them devils don't mean us any good. Terry, I... I'm scared. God, he saw my... A rook! One! Jeanette! Where is... Where is Tarzan? I'm Darno. Got it. Both of them gone. They must have managed it while we were watching these savages. But... but why didn't they free us, too? That means they've left us to our fate. Live, be a major. Tarzan ain't the fellow to desert. Neither is the lieutenant. You didn't let me finish, Terry. Either they've left us to our fate, or they'll try to rescue us. That's more like it. Them two act like they've been through this sort of thing before. Oh, but good heavens. What can they hope to do alone against so many? Keep your eyes open, a bushler. They'll be giving us a chance to escape. When they do, be ready to take it. If they don't let taken Jeanette with them one. I don't like to think what might happen to her when they've finished with us. Brace yourselves. Here they come. That yellow gang knows Tarzan and Darneau gone. Yelling and gesticulating savagely, the yellow-skinned mob crowds around the four captives. One huge brute, apparently the leader, jerks O'Rourke and Jeanette to their feet. Shaking them fiercely and pointing to the ground where Tarzan and Darneau lay, he growls words at them. O'Rourke glares back at the yellow giant defiantly. Ripping along, bronze knife from the sheaf of his belt, the savage presents the razor sharp point at the Irishman's throat. Oh, gumbo, mumbo, gumbo! Say something, man, before he cuts your throat. If you can't talk, make sign. How the devil can I, with my hands tied? Well, do something if you want to live. Oh, gumbo, mumbo, gumbo! I don't know what the devil you're talking about in yellow-hathen, but if it's the lieutenant and Tarzan you're asking for, Dave's gone. Gone! Gone! Yes, gone, if you know what I mean. The savage guttural growl, the yellow giant hurled O'Rourke and Jeanette to the ground, bends down and cuts the thongs, binding them together. Once more, he jerks the Irishman to his feet and thrusts him into the crowd of yellow men. Jeanette, Wong, and Ashley watch fearfully as the savages drag O'Rourke across the clearing to the river's edge. He should not advise you to watch this, Jeanette, my child. But what are they going to do? What things? They're calling the crocodile. Exactly. And you see, they are coming. Irish shore. Oh! Oh, how awful! They're going to throw Terry in the water!