 Tarzan of the Eighth, from the novels by Edgar Rice Burrow, with Mr. James H. Pierce as Tarzan and Ms. Joanne Burrows as Jane Porter. This is an American Gold Seal production. Jane Porter has been rescued from a crocodile by Tarzan. Hearing native drums, Jane persuades Tarzan to take her toward the cannibal corral, where she knows her father and his party are. Perched high in the trees, they see the professor and the whites making their way toward the temple cave, behind the waterfall. The professor's party has been told that Tarzan and Jane are in the cave, but they sense a trap. Now, are you ready? Hold your breath. Are you all right? I am. I'm with you. Still hanging out of this whip, doctor. I'm trying to light a torch. I can't see a thing. Tarzan, Jack, there are only five of you. Won't you? There are only five of you. Keep it down the road. What's the matter? Five of my men did not get in with us. They are on the other side of the waterfall. I'm just listening to those idiots. I think they were friendly. And now, I have stopped them all, monsieur. The lives of my men are probably already 40. Give me a hand here with this whip, doctor. Give me a moment here and help you try him, so that we shall know where he is the next time we meet him. All right, you treacherous thief. I'd like to wring your filthy neck. Monsieur, your attention. I very much dislike what I have to say. And perhaps this may not be the time or perhaps not the place to say it. Yes, but I don't know. I think you will agree that I wonder what there is not here. We have a new thing that she isn't without that of the ape. I mean, you will recall that I said from the beginning that this was a crack laid by the rich doctor. Yes, you were undoubtedly correct in your deductions. Now, the point I wish to stress is this. If Monsieur Crippon had not fired upon the... upon Crippon, we should not have had to come to this. Go ahead and say it. If I hadn't fired at him, you wouldn't have had to stop me and the Blacks wouldn't have attacked us. That's what you wanted to say, isn't it, Donald? Yes, Monsieur. And because of that, Monsieur Crippon, I have lost five of my stale arms. You really think down... Monsieur, the ones who were not killed before we came in here are undoubtedly dead now, or worse still, on their way through this state over the bomb. I didn't think... Please, Crippon, Monsieur Crippon, you did not think you allowed your personal feelings against this Tarzan, who never so far as I know has done you any harm. Harm? Harm? He's kidnapped Jane, you hear? Kept her in the jungle for weeks. Now, now, Crippon, Crippon, we have Jane's milk here telling us that she has come to know a harm. Ha ha, Jane's nose. Jane's nose! This painted by Tarzan, no doubt. No, Crippon. You're talking rubbish. And the only excuse I can find your action is that the seer has affected your ability to read. Crippon, all this mixture is neither him nor theirs. Due to a purely personal metal arm with your plate on top, I have, I say, lost five of my men. And from now on, I am inclined. If I'm wrong, I'm wrong. But I will be obeyed. Look here, don't know what I'm saying. Which here may have a dozen objections and all reasonable, but that is not the point. I am to be obeyed through the letter when I feel that all promises I have made about searching for Memorzel Poitierre can be broken without loss of honor. And I will prosecute that search entirely on my own. Hey, Jane, decide at once. I agree without questions. I also, Dono. Well, I know. I don't recognize your right toward a me about and I am not the only one. Well, now, Crippon, be sensible. Be reasonable. Jack, of course. This arm must shall take off. It's on the real moon. I will not be disarmed by arms. It's all right, Magistrate. No, Magistrate. No, Magistrate. Now, Magistrate, click on your arm, your choice. Your word is a gentleman to obey the command and make no attempt at retreating your rival or continue this journey bound. Well, there is no choice. I agree. Hey, hey, we can't get out. What do you mean? We can't get out? We can't get out. Why not, Magistrate? The secret exit of only Tarzan before has been locked up. The big rock has been loaded in the opening. Stop overlooking the temple cave. Jane and Tarzan watched the cannibals attack Professor Porter and the party of whites. Jane leans forward eagerly as she sees her father followed by the others, jumped through the waterfall, taking the witch doctor with them. Jane turns to Tarzan. Oh, white skin. Tarzan, I, I don't understand why. What can Sassel have been thinking about? All right. Jane, Omengani, no catch, Tarzan. But Tarzan, the whole thing is beyond me. One minute the cannibals seem to be friendly towards Daddy and Mr. Philander and the others. I don't know who they are, but they look like sailors. Then Sassel fired at you and the others seized the rifle and then the cannibals turned on Daddy and the other white men. Yes, Jane, white men try to shoot Tarzan. Other white men save. Black men like kill white men for saving Tarzan. I think you're right, Tarzan. And then I heard the man I don't know shot to Daddy and Sassel and Mr. Philander to jump into some cave behind the waterfall. Little more. Night comes. Jane, Tarzan, go into water. But, but we can't, Tarzan. Not with all these cannibals around. We are safe enough up here in the trees. But the minute one of these blacks eyes upon us, they will shoot their arrows at us. Night comes. Dark. Tarzan go black man Billy. Make far one hut. All black men see fire. All black men go village. Tarzan and Jane go into water. Fine father. Now, now that's a good idea, Tarzan. But do we have to wait till night? Probably there aren't any blacks left at the village. Jane and Tarzan go now? Yes, can't we? We go now. Without further word, Tarzan picks Jane up in his arms, holds her to him and heads for Munger's village. As they pleasure breathtaking speed along the upper jungle terrace, Jane thinks of Clayton's attempt to shoot Tarzan. Was it jealousy? Jane has known that Clayton cared for her. He'd never said anything, but Jane had known. And as they speed through the trees, Jane unconsciously voices her thoughts. Still, that would hardly account for it. Cecil had no way of knowing how much I've grown to care for Tarzan. What, Jane? Oh, oh, nothing Tarzan. I'll have to be more careful about talking to myself. You learn all together too quickly. Jane, just talk. That's it, Tarzan. Jane, just talk. Even that excuse isn't going to serve at the rate you learn to speak English. The days when I can think aloud are just about over. Look, Jane, Gorman Ganny Village. As Tarzan speaks, Jane looks down and sees the cannibal crowd. With never slackening speed, Tarzan presses on. Now he's at the familiar tree overhanging the stockade. Down through the leaves, soundlessly, holding Jane tightly, the ape man drops from limb to limb. They stop. Tarzan points to a black, evidently a sentry, standing by the sacrificial fire. Jane, stop here. Tarzan go make hut on fire. But Tarzan, what about the black man? Tarzan, Jane, look out of the way. Tarzan, fixed black man. You mean kill him? Jane, no look. Tarzan, no kill black man. Other black man kill father. Yes, yes, Tarzan. I suppose that's right. I won't look. And Tarzan, silently, cautiously drops from the limb to the ground. Crouching, his grass-rope looped and swinging from his hand, he creeps closer, closer to the unsuspecting black man. Back in the cave temple, Professor Porter, Clayton, Philander and Dono are standing, staring at the block, secret passage. Once again, the witch starts to sing. Yeah, I'm sure of it. Look at the devilish grin on his face. Not that way, sonner, sonner, fight up. Rengar was silly in that eye. Well, we made sure. I just said that it was bad medicine, and he says that it was good medicine. I don't see that he had any reasons to laugh. He didn't expect coming in here with us. He's in as bad a state as we are. And the chances are that he knows another way out. Then if he can get it out, so can we. That's right. Tired of black up again, and he pulls up a rope so he cannot get away. He does not want him to eat his disappearing flesh as he did before. Hurry up, hurry up. Not that way, Rengar. Yeah. You won't, dad. Huh? We shall see. But, yes, I have no intention of waiting for this inhuman wretch to make up his mind to tell us how to get out. I'm going to make up his mind for him. Come. Injustice. Rengar! Dono, Dono, what are you going to do to him? I have a fate of my mind quite. It just depends on how stubborn he is. I can promise you that I cannot take very long, though. I'm out. Jack! What's up? I don't like the tone of Dono's voice, and I'd rather gather from what he says that there's some sort of torture within his mind. First of all, I don't care much for torturers as a means of persuasion, but as far as this witch doctor beggar is concerned, I don't care if Dono trips his ears off. He'd rather cut me, isn't he? I mean, after all, we are interpaking men and supposed to know better. Perhaps I can eat these, but in view of the circumstances, I almost feel that Dono is justified. I hope yet. Trappers in this beastly hole, I don't care if Dono kills him. Oh, well, Dono's coming back. Well, what about the nun so far? He's quite stubborn. I did not want to hire him permanently, but they are not going to stay in a copy late for us without making some effort to find out how he is. Of course, Dono. I must say, though, that I don't like the idea of torture. Even if he is just a cannibal. If we kill him, it only means a rather nasty finish for us all. We must make him tell us how we can get out of this. What's that? Am I hearing things? Is it my imagination? The fever? No, Clayton. I heard it. It's real. Real, real. It's not real. It's Godless. Inhuman. Here's a Professor Porter's trust topic. Does some hip the two answers?