 Tarzan and the apes from the novel Fayette will rise burrows with Mr. James H Pierce as Tarzan and Mr. Juan burrows as Jane Porter. This is an American gold deal production coming to you over the world broadcasting system and associated station. Tarzan has rescued Jane Porter from the pirate ship and with her has returned to the jungle because he believes that her own party cannot protect her. Meanwhile, Professor Porter and his party have been overpowered by Snipes and his crew who put them to work digging for the treasure in the jungle. The apes are to hold a dumb dumb celebration and Tarzan takes Jane to the ceremony. Now are you ready? Hold your breath. The weird pulsating crowd of the dumb, dumb, gross lover, more friendly, more compelling as Jane and Tarzan draw closer to the ceremonial mound of the great apes through the almost impassable barrier of twisted branches and matted verdure. The cries of the great apes sound like the ominous rumbling of distant thunder. Oh, I'm almost afraid Tarzan. Jane, not afraid. I'm not afraid, not afraid, Jane. No, I can't exactly describe the feeling. I'm not afraid when I'm with you, but it's knowing, knowing that I'm going to see something. Jane, not worried. Jane, like dumb dumb. Are we almost there? Little more. Now, go down. Jane closes her eyes as Tarzan, like a falling stone, drops through the semi-gloom of tangled violence. Jane seats herself at the base of a giant tree. Before her, the apes circle in mad confusion, pausing every few steps to beat upon the great earth and mound with their short club-like sticks. On the outer circle, chattering and shouting encouragement that she apes with their balues sway back and forth, keeping time with the uncanny rhythm. Jane watches, fascinated as Tarzan joins in the reckless abandon of the print of his ceremony. This bronze body gleaming like furnished copper, leaping higher than any. The apes then forgets all about the tarman-ganny in their strange ways as he gives them to his pent-up feelings. The weird chanting rises higher and higher. Mighty is the tribe of Karchak, is the general of their cries. Mighty are they in battle, and mighty is the whole of Tarzan. Not only Tarzan springs to the center of the drum, still spinning with almost thickening speed, the ape man beats his broad chest with clenched fists, raises his head and gives a challenging cry of a great ape. The robbing drumming stops. The victory celebration is over. Some of the apes fall where they stand, exhausted. Others amble off into the jungle. Tarzan crosses the clearing to Jane. Jane likes? Oh, I don't know. It's so weird, and so savage. Karchak apes hold dum-dum because Tarzan kills Sheeter. I understand that part of it, but it's so human in some ways, and yet so unhumanly terrifying in others. I don't know what to think of it, Tarzan. Jane, tired? Yes, I'm tired and worried. I wish I knew what had happened with Daddy. Tomorrow, go to hut again. Maybe they come back. Oh, I hope you're right, Tarzan. Now, go back to Jane. Yes. And taking Jane in his arms, Tarzan turns to the jungle trail that leads to the platform in the trees. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Darno, Philander, Francois and Clayton are digging for the treasure under the watchful eye of the pirates. Nearby stands Professor Porter, who, because of fever, has been exempted from digging. Not a very promising cross-bake, is it? If we don't find the treasure, and if we do find it, what then? Ah, dear Monsieur, I did not believe at first that Sam's was serious about making us dig, but evidently he was. This is the most preposterous nonsense. How can that blooming idiot expect us to dig up treasure when we haven't the faintest nonsense for where it is? Ah, yes, yes, Clayton. I know your feelings exactly. Indeed, I feel rather guilty about not taking my share of the digging. Now, Archimedes, you take it easy. The rest of us have strong backs. Oh, oh, well, mine's a little stiff after our strenuous exercise of today. I'm not going to put in another day like this one. I'm going to have it out with Snipes. I cannot blame you, Monsieur, but let us wait for a better opportunity. Now you will only get yourself shot. Well, I'd just as soon be shot now to wait until this pass has played itself any further. Especially if Snipes will probably shoot us under any circumstances. I'm almost inclined to side in with you, Clayton. But, Monsieur, you'll forget one thing. Getting ourselves killed will not help Memoiser Jean. Now, it's a comfort to know that she is safe in the jungle with Tarzan. But, as soon as we are out of the way, the sailors may attack Tarzan, and then Memoiser Jean's last protector will be gone. Well, any suggestions? Frankly, I can't suggest anything. It's all right. I don't blame Monsieur. He comes the farthest he can't pretend. Well, all right. And just what do you mean, Snipes? You block-seize is all I mean business, don't you? Look here, Snipes, you're wasting your time threatening us. Well, are you ready to tell me where you hid that blasted treasure? But we know nothing whatever about the treasure. Or if we did, I'd give it you to get rid of the sight of you. All right, amateur, all right. Do you really mean that we have to keep on digging? Of course I do. This fast can't go on Snipes. You can't seriously expect us to dig up everything in sight. Oh, can't I? And why not? It isn't reasonable. That's why... And even if we dug up a square mile around here, you have no means of knowing that the treasure is within miles of this place. Oh, child that. That treasure chest is too heavy for you blokes to have carried it very far. We didn't carry your infernal chest anywhere. Can't you get that through your... Oh, your teeth will be the worst for a dot on your mouth. At Kutwa, you have overlooked something, Snipes. Look up the dance, Snipes. Oh, yes? And what's that? Have you looked in the original hole where the treasure is located on the map? No, I... Well, first, remove the treasure from there and dump her into the iron hole. Ah, but is it not possible that some of your men might have been too smart for you and that they might have removed the treasure back to the original hole? Huh? No, they never had no chance. Ah, that is what you think. But if you do look... Voila! The treasure may be there. Look here, mister. If you're trying on some kind... Hey! Welcome! All right, mister. I'll look. What kind of a gag are you trying to pull on, Snipes, Dono? You know perfectly well that the treasure isn't in the original place. Quickly, mister. While Snipes is looking for the treasure, do you think we can make a break for it? Not a chance, Dono. Those two fellas, King and Wilson, that he sent to guard is a pretty villainous looking. No, Dono. It won't work. King has a grudge against us anyway. And they've both got rifles and got potters at their leisure. But I think I can work something on the guard. A little trick, Harry. Well, go ahead. But I'm not a tall sanguine. King! May I have a word with you privately? Whatever you've got to say, my pal can hear it, can he? Very well. Though I thought you might like to know it all for yourself. Well, speak up if you've got anything to say. What if I were to tell you where the treasure really is? What's that? I say, what if I were to tell you where the treasure is hidden? Would you help us to escape before Snipes has a chance to carry out his trip and kill us all when the treasure is found? Well, I... I don't know. You arrange to come and talk to us tonight after everyone is asleep. I'd be taking an awful chance. But is not the treasure worth some chance? Oh, what about Wilson? Is he in? Of course. The treasure is picking up for two minutes. Midnight then. On, on, do you? Hush. Here's Snipes. Yes. Midnight. Why don't you find Snipes? Dancing beams of silver through the lacy screen of leaves that form the jungle. Overhead, the chattering of monkeys and the screeching of parrots have given way to the groaning hum of insects and the drowsy sighing of the light breezers playing in the tree tops. Below the jungle depths resound through the distant roar of New Mother Lion, the spitting cough of Sheetor, the leopard, or the shrill trumpeting of Tantor, the elephant. Lying before the sleepy alcove, Jane and Tarzan gaze along the jungle trails. Oh, I can't sleep tonight, Tarzan. I don't know what it is. A sort of... I know this sounds silly, but I have a feeling as if something were going to happen. Tarzan not sleepy. Maybe Jane not like dum-dum. No, I wouldn't say that, Tarzan. But well, in a way, I'm sorry I went. I don't understand. No, I could scarcely expect that you would. For this is your life. It's all that you've ever known. But it was a bit disconcerting to me to be suddenly swept back thousands of years at the very dawn of humanity. To see primeval life in all its raw savagery and to see you. You are part of it. Yes, it was disconcerting and perhaps a little disillusioning. Tarzan does not understand what Jane says. I'm glad that you don't. Even if you had complete mastery of the English language, I still might not be able to make you understand. For how could you see through the eyes of a civilized girl? Especially when she's not sure that she sees clearly when she says disillusioning and perhaps means revealing. Oh Tarzan, Tarzan, you can never know how I felt seeing you dancing there with those great harriots. They are my people. Our ways are not the ways of the Tarman, Ganny. Sometimes it made me shudder to see you. That was disillusioning. And sometimes I thrilled. And that was revelation. I don't know which was stronger. Jane, sad? In a way, yes. Tarzan, sorry. It's not your fault. And nothing for you to be sorry about. You see Tarzan, there are some things that, well, no matter how much you would like to know about them, nevertheless, you're better off if you don't. The dumb dumb is one of those things. I think Jane just talked. Just talked to herself. You know you're teasing her, Jane. But I suppose it isn't quite fair of me to keep on talking about something you don't understand. Something, in fact, that I don't understand myself. Tarzan does not quite know what to make of this new attitude and not knowing how to answer the eight-man is silent. Jane gazes with unseeing eyes into the depths of the jungle. Before her flashes again and again, the mad swirling picture of the dumb dumb and always before she can thrust the image into the background, she sees Tarzan's leaping, gyrating figure that she now loves Tarzan. She scarcely denies, even to herself. And try as she can. She cannot picture him in any setting other than the jungle. Her jumbled posture interrupted by a distant rumbling. Visit Tarzan. Even the lions. Everything seems to be afraid. Tarzan does not know. The eight-man steps to the edge of the platform. The roar settles into a steady, crashing, earth-shaking rumble. Tarzan! Tarzan! The fringe of trees that forms the jungle wall bends and sways, breaks and crumbles under the terrific onslaught. Tarzan's sweet pain to him is the herd of stampeding elephants precious down the narrow jungle trail. Tarzan away with them. And what of Dono and the others?