 From the heart of the jungle comes a savage cry of victory. This is Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle. From the black core of dark Africa, land of enchantment, mystery and violence comes one of the most colorful figures of all time. Transcribed from the immortal pen of Edgar Rice Burroughs. Tarzan, the bronzed white son of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of Ghost of the Karmiki. Even those of us who have visited Africa's teeming cities find it difficult to recapture them in our minds once we are back in civilization. It's even hard to believe that certain places really exist, though we've seen them with our own eyes. The fantastic slave mart and the outskirts of Tarak, for example. Unfortunately, it does exist. A barbaric open-air market where humans are auctioned off like cattle or donkeys or camels. Before the auction begins, you may inspect the goods to be sold. Lift up a chin to examine the eyes and face. Feel a muscle. Proud of back that may soon be bent to your labor. Prices today range from the American equivalent of about $15 to $150. And the bidding is usually spirited. His clothes. Twenty riyadh for this fine young boy who is capable of much heavy work. You have made the fine purchase. Alalala. Prize of our collection, this beautiful young native girl. Turn around so the multitude may see you. Notice the clear light color of her skin. The beauty of her face and form. She will make someone a fine wife or a dancing girl. I invite you for speed. It is an insult to bid such a paltry sum. She is but 17 years of age. Freshly brought from the jungle. Never before held in slavery. I see the symbol for 200 riyadh. But you do well to bid such a price. Shagraseem bin Amoud. Is there further bidding? And that concludes the auction for the... What do you want? Oh, yes. Kind people. I almost overlooked one black who is yet for sale. You, get up on the auction block quickly. Yes, master. I climb up quickly. Do not call me master. I would not own such a miserable specimen of the human race. My friends. I offer this black for quick sale. If you have the food to fatten him up, he may develop into an adequate fieldhand. I invite the first bid. I recognize the gesture of the alafine of the province of Mayowo. One riyadh has been bid. I invite the second bid. You need not come forward with your bid, stranger. Just raise your fingers indicating your offer, and I shall go. I am not bidding for the man, for I do not believe in slavery. I come forward to challenge your right to sell a black whose forehead does not bear the mark of a slave. The incision will be placed there soon. We will now proceed with the auction. You will not sell this man. He wears the necklace of the karmiki, a token that marks him as a member of the bravest tribe in the entire jungle. No karmiki has ever been a slave. Until now. I do not know who you are, but I warn you not to delay our auction. We operate with the full permission and cooperation of the alafine of the province. And should you attempt to interfere, your lot would not be a pleasant one. Your threat does not frighten me. I refuse to let you watch. You see, should you attempt to interfere, not only would you be forced to face the authorities, but you would also have to face the anger of all those assembled here. I might suggest that if you have interest in this handsome black, you bid for him, like the others. All right, I bid the entire content of my purse. 100 riyals. And what is the name and the title of the wealthy potentate who pays 100 riyals for a most ordinary fieldland? I am Tarzan, lord of the jungle. And it is my belief that no man is ordinary, saved by his own actions. You, Mr. auctioneer, are the most ordinary man I have met in many moons. It may surprise you to know that I am a man of strange talents and accomplishments. With the payment of the money for the slave, we shall be even on that transaction. You shall not settle the account for the insult so easily. You need not tremble, Najugi. We should be quite safe in this hut. Who is owner of hut? An Englazer, a government official just as much opposed to slavery as I am. This hut is on his estate, and we have his permission to remain here until you're well enough to leave Tarak and travel to the land of your people. Tarzan, not kick Najugi a slave? No, Najugi. I bought you so that I could return you to your people. Tarzan, send Najugi back to Karmiki? I shall take you back. It's plain that you've been sick and that it would require months before you could brave the jungle alone. It's true. Najugi not able to reach land of Karmiki. Well, you'll feel a lot better in a few days if you sleep well and eat the food our host provides. You know, you hardly ate a bite of the food he sent for our dinner. Tarzan, not eat. I'm unable to eat the food of the cities, but you must have been away from the jungle for a long time. Three years. But that's why Najugi thin and weak, not like food of city. Two hungry men and neither of us can eat. You know what I'm going to do, Najugi? I'm going into the forest at the edge of the city and find some fresh meat for us. Would you like that? The deal. Tarzan, get fresh meat. And you must sleep until I get back. You didn't rest. That's what you need, Najugi. The deal. Sound like you're ready for sleep already. The deal. Najugi much tired. Najugi lay down on a straw pallet that Tarzan had prepared in a corner of the hut and almost before his frail body had touched the makeshift bed, his eyes were closed and he had begun to breathe deeply. Tarzan watched him for a moment and then he slung his bow and a quiver of arrows over his shoulder and left for the forest that skirted the city. But almost before Tarzan was out of sight, Najugi had jumped up, gathered his few simple belongings and almost ripped the door of the hut from its fiber hinges as he ran out. He ran almost the entire length of the city, ran until he had reached the imposing house that stood behind the slave market. He knocked impatiently at the door and when it had swung open, he hurried in his side. Well, I thought I had seen the last of you Najugi. Najugi, run away. You fled from your new master already. The deal. What do you expect me to do with you? Sell me again, a slave. I have sold you once. I cannot offer you again. There are official records kept. Then change Najugi's name. But sell him. Perhaps I have a better idea. One that will accomplish your purpose and mine. I would dearly like to avenge the insult I received at Tarzan's hands. And perhaps I may be able to do so through you. We'll return to our story of Tarzan in just a moment. You did not know me in my disguise, Najugi? With small beard and wax mustache. You look like foreign sorry. So I look the part of a Frenchman. I can also sound like one. I am so sorry, Mr. Tarzan. I have not the remotest idea why your slave has gone. Yes, I can fool the lord of the jungle. Only this time I shall only be practicing. My couriers tell me he is on the way here. You not let him find me. No, Najugi, that will defeat my plan. You will be perfectly safe in the underground passageway where I'll hide other slaves who must not be found. That must be Tarzan now. Go through this doorway into the hiding place. Madio, Najugi hide from Tarzan. Bonjour, monsieur. I am looking for the auctioneer from the slave market. I was told he lives here. Oui, monsieur. This is your residence of the commissaire-presor, but he has left the city. When will he be back? He will be gone. Now you say indefinitely. Perhaps there is something I can do. I am looking for a runaway slave by the name of Najugi. You are welcome to search the premises, but you will find no runaway slave here. Tarzan did not penetrate the clever disguise of the crafty slave auctioneer nor did he find the strange-acting Najugi. For the next week, the jungle lord searched the city of Tarak, but nowhere was there a trace of the lost karmic-y native. Still, there had been no sign of a struggle in the hut, so perhaps Najugi had merely doubted Tarzan's intentions and had fled into the jungle. Perhaps by this time, he had already reached his home. And so at the end of the week, Tarzan plunged into the jungle, and after four days, he reached the karmic-y crawl. A celebration was going on, and Tarzan rejoiced at the sounds of it. Surely it must mean that the people were celebrating the return of one they believed dead. Bolekko! Bolekko! Tarzan! Oh, nothing's fine. Tarzan here for feast and ceremony. Then he has returned, Bolekko. Returned? Who Tarzan? The karmic-y native I found in Tarak. Oh, no karmic-y return from Tarak. Oh? I thought that was the reason for the celebration. I have feast and dancing for Bolekko's wedding. He married up with beautiful Mai. Oh, I'm most happy for you, Bolekko, but my mind is troubled over the disappearance of the karmic-y I found at the slave auction. I intended to... Mai! Mai! Tarzan here! Lord of jungle, come to our wedding. Oh, you certainly picked a beautiful bride, Bolekko. Jambo Mai! She did not talk to you. It's taboo for her talk to any man until she bride a Bolekko. Bolekko is next chief. Mai, Sunday be queen. When is the marriage? Tomorrow. Tonight Mai go to forest of brides. Bolekko go to temple of warriors. When Kuda, the son, bride in heaven, married ceremony begin. He is much drinking food for all of tribe. If only that poor thin one could be here. Bolekko, how did Najugi happen to leave the village? Najugi? Yes, that's the name of the karmic-y who was sold to me as a slave. I started to tell you about it when Mai joined us. Bolekko, not no karmic-y by name Najugi. But he couldn't be more than a few years older than you. You must have played together as children. No karmic-y name Najugi. Mai is looking at you strangely. Are you telling me the truth, Bolekko? His truth. Come Mai, I take you to women. They prepare you for vigil in forest of brides. She's trembling. What is it Mai? Was it the name Najugi? Yes, she shudders each time I say the name. Who is Najugi? And why do you deny that he's a member of your tribe? He's not member of tribe. Bolekko, not remember anyone by that name. Bolekko for some strange reason was lying. Tarzan knew it. Najugi had worn the karmic-y necklace about his scrawny neck as he stood on the auction block in Tarak. He must be a member of the tribe. But not a single warrior nor a woman of the tribe could be persuaded to utter a word concerning the missing native. Tarzan's only hope of unraveling the mystery lay in the ancient witch doctor whom he had known since he was a small boy. We've known each other for many years. I'm counting on you to tell me the truth. Which doctor tell truth to white brother? What Tarzan want know? Was there ever a native of the village whose name was Najugi? Nadio. I knew it. How long since you left the village? Najugi gone from us Miaka Tattoo. Three years? Yes, he said he'd been gone from the jungle three years. But why do the others of the tribe refuse to admit that he ever lived here? His custom of jungle people. I don't know what you mean by that. Tell me, why did Mai tremble at the mere mention of his name? Mai never liked Najugi, though he chose her as bride when she still child. She always afraid him. I see. And is that why Boleko became angry when I pressed him for information about Najugi? Boleko always hate him also. Maybe is because Najugi older. Boleko think Najugi become chief. He know his brother be bad chief. They're brothers? They were brothers. And Najugi die three years ago. We'll return in just a moment to our story of the ghost of the Karmiki. Not far from the Karmiki village, two men walked early along an abandoned elephant trail. One was Najugi the native who had died three years before. The other was a red-bearded white man dressed in the traditional garb of a diola trader. Of the two, the black man was the most weary and presently he faltered and half fell to the ground. Are you really that tired, Najugi? Or is it another attack of cowardice? Maybe it's both. Najugi is afraid. I've told you you have nothing to fear. I can fool the beasts of the forest, the black men of your tribe, or the white idiot who calls himself lord of the jungle. Tell Najugi how you can be many men, all different, and how you can be so clever. Essentially I'm an actor, a good one. I can be an Arab, a trader, and an auctioneer of slaves. Also I can portray a Frenchman, a man who is cultured and bon vivant. Or I can be a pack peddler. Or anything else I choose, Najugi. Why are you not actor on stage? I was on the stage, but it did not always confine my characterizations to the theater. And though my aliases and my disguises were many, it is no longer safe for me in civilized countries. The police of a dozen nations are itching to get their hands on me. No, my life wouldn't be worth much if I went back. If Karmiki find Najugi, he also die. You're not going to die, Najugi. You're going to have that little girl you always wanted for a wife. You're going to get that job as chief of the tribe. And you're going to make those Karmikis so scared they'll be afraid to cross you in anything you ever say or do. What magic make this come through? The magic of Vanette, the magnificent. Oh yes, I was once a magician too. The best magic hats of its day. Light of hand, card tricks, feats of magic and legidemain. Occult readings and hypnotism. The wonders of the celestial world brought to you by Vanette, the magnificent. You are Vanette this time? No, on this occasion I'm simply Billy Blossom, a humble pack peddler from Nairobi. You will perform the feats of magic this time, Najugi. Now let's get going. Things are going to happen in the village of the Karmiki. And things did happen. Less than an hour later, she was screaming from the forest of brides. Forgetting the taboos, she babbled incoherently about evil demons and the spirits of the dead. Hysterical, she was carried to the hema of her parents. A solemn conclave was held about the ceremonial fire and the witch doctor uttered strange incantations and prescribed a mystical cure. What is wrong with your bride, Buleko? You see, evil demon, ghosts of those who are dead. I see. And what has the witch doctor prescribed? Wedding cannot take place for three moon now. Ma'i must climb sacred mountain. Very hard of chicken and deep pit at top of mountain. Also put in hole, sharp stick from a god-soul tree, black rock of sharp hedge, fang of snake. But why must she do this? If Ma'i see demon, it mean her heart not pure. Cannot be bride unless she make pure. Chase ghost of dead. I'm curious, Buleko. Whose ghost did she see? Grandfather who'd dead before Ma'i born. Najugi who'd died three years ago. I can't explain Ma'i's story that she saw the ghost of a grandfather she never knew, but if she saw someone who looked like Najugi it may well have been him. He's no spirit, but a man who was alive. No, none Najugi dead. Buleko kill him. Kill him and bury his body deep. Burying Najugi with his own hands. Even two thousand witch doctor cannot tell dishonorable tribe. But you must surely know by this time that I am your friend. You deal, you are friend. Then tell me the story of Najugi's supposed death. I mean you no disrespect, but perhaps there's a simpler method of removing the evil from Ma'i's heart than sending her alone to a dangerous mountain top. His only way? She see ghost of grandfather and of Najugi. Why did Buleko kill his brother and why was he not punished for it? Punished Buleko for saving honor of chief's family? How did he do that? Men of tribe hold shory. Decide kill Najugi for steel ivory from secret cave of Karmiki people. If warriors kill family of chief in disgrace so Buleko take Najugi in woods. Kill, bury him. When brother take his life, honor of family is saved. I see. But of course it's possible that... Witch doctor, why do you stare at me that way? What's the matter? Knives stick out of Tarzan's body. What? Knives sticking out of my body? Flames come from Tarzan's mouth. Have you gone mad? Tarzan, it is Narogi. The magic that kills? Really I thought you were one person in the tribe of... Where are you going? Tarzan be witch. Tarzan Mugilo is trouble. He run from Tarzan. I guess I'll never learn that these native witch doctors are... All crazy. I found it out years ago. Who are you? Where did you come from? I came in as the old bird lit out. My name's Billy Blossom, pack peddler from Nairobi. Been traveling all day and half the night to get here. Well, you've chosen a poor time to visit the Karmiki. I thought I'd sell them lots of fancy doodos for the Shindig. Shindig? The wedding. The wedding's been postponed and I doubt the Karmikis are in a mood for buying either pots and pans or trinkets. Perhaps you'll have better luck in the next crawl. Well, it's too darn late to start out again. Now you think I could bunk somewhere in this village? I'm sure you can. Forgive me if I leave you now. There's something in the forest that I must shoot. Sure, sure, run right along. I'll make out all right without you. Why Tarzan make Boleko come into a forest of brides? Because I think we'll find things here that will prove that what my saw weren't either ghosts nor demons. Look, it's footprints of demons. Perfectly round impressions in the soft earth. They're imprints of animals' claws, the marks of men's bare feet nor the indication of shoes or boots. It's footprints of ghosts. Boleko, neither in the folklore of civilized countries nor in the fantastic stories of the jungle have I ever heard of ghosts who leave tracks. I see marks go in each direction. So those who left them either came from the Karmiki village or were on their way there. They tied something round to their feet so that we could not tell which direction they were traveling. Boleko, I shall follow the marks that go deeper into the jungle. You follow those that go toward the crawl. Tarzan waited until Boleko was out of sight and then he took to the upper level of jungle growth and shadowed the Karmiki youth, remaining but a quarter mile behind him. Boleko had little trouble following the round footprints that led straight to the village. But when Boleko entered his beloved crawl, he found it greatly changed. His proud Karmiki warriors grumbled about the ceremonial fire. The witch doctor, whom he'd always respected, stood bowed and subservient. The women of the tribe, including my, stood transfixed with fear. And in the center of the circle, controlling them with his hypnotic eyes, stood a man with a red beard and the garb of a pack peddler. But it was not the white man, but the amacheated black at his side who commanded Boleko's attention as he walked into the council ring. It's all not you, dear. I promise, Tommy, you'll come back. Come back to claim Mahi as wife and become chief of tribe. Well, Boleko should have killed you. He made a mistake when he let you go and tell others you're dead. Boleko, look at me. Look deeply into my eyes. Look at the light from the fire that shines there. I am your master. You will not harm N'Jugi. No, not harm N'Jugi. You will grovel in the dust with the others of your tribe. You will soon go to sleep. You and the others of your tribe. And when you awaken, you will tell the karmiki that N'Jugi is to be your chief. N'Jugi, be chief. And you will lead the safari that carries your treasure of ivory to the slave market in Tarak. Boleko, what awaits you? Come on. You see, N'Jugi, all I have promised has come true. I have restored what is rightfully yours. I have gained a treasure in ivory. And I have avenged my insult at Tarzan's hands by making a fool of him. And should he come back here, I shall merely turn my hypnotic gaze on him. And he too will fall a victim of my... That takes care of you, N'Jugi. And now... I may speak to you. Last night, all of you were placed under a spell. But now the spell is broken. Once again, your witch doctor and your chief are your leaders. You will not listen to the words of another. But because I had some hand in opening your eyes, I should like to make a few requests. What you say is law, Lord of Jungle. I ask that Boleko be forgiven for having spared the life of his brother three years ago. I should like Boleko's marriage to my aid to take place today as originally planned. It shall take place, Santa Tarzan. And I ask that your jungle justice be tempered with mercy when you judge the two who lie bound in the prison hut. One is a member of your own tribe, a man who was so afraid of your anger that he twice attempted to sell himself into slavery so that he could become the property of a white man and thus be immune from black men's laws. Tarzan, now men of Karmicke also know fear. We show mercy to N'Jugi, but other one who lies in hut... a clever man whose red beard was as false as his heart. I do not ask leniency for him only that he be given a fair trial. I'm afraid I shall have to appear as a witness against him for with my own eyes I have seen him sell humans into slavery. And I know that to shackle man's feet and hands is also to enchain his soul. This perhaps is the greatest of all crimes. We'd like you to remain with us for another few moments so that we may tell you about our next story of Tarzan. Strangest of all of Africa's countries is the tiny kingdom one must cross in order to reach Timbuktu. On the banks of the river Niger in the French Saddam, it is ruled by a black potentate who wears robes of purple and gold and conducts a court as lavish as those of ancient Rome. The Kaya is a man of great culture and great jealousy, and Tarzan finds adventure on the road to Timbuktu. Tarzan the transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs is produced by Walter White Jr. prepared for radio by Bud Lesser with original music by Albert Glasser. This is a Commodore production. Listen to our next story, Adventure in the Road to Timbuktu. Another thrilling episode of The Lord of the Jungle.