 Tarzan of the Yeats, from the novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs with Mr. James H. Pierce as Tarzan, and Mr. Johann Burroughs as Jane Porter. Professor Porter and his party searching the African jungle for his daughter Jane are captured by cannibals. In a trial by poison, Philander outwits the witch doctor and the party escapes death. In the jungle, Tarzan called to settle a dispute among the apes, leaves Tog, a bull ape, to guard Jane. While Tog hunts grubs at the face of a tree, his father Snake whips himself about the great ape. Now, are you ready? Hold your breath. Jane Porter stumbles to the edge of the platform, with wide staring eyes she looks down on the deadly combat below. His father Snake, secure in his anchorage for the South Branch, draws Tog tighter and tighter in his struggling, crushing, climbing coil. Tog strikes from shore, shying in vain to free himself from the twisting, writhing horror. Tog beats futilely at empty air. The Snake's jaws are dangerously close to the great ape's neck. Tog throws up a mighty, hairling arm. Snake hitters, draws back and tightens his coils. Jane watches horrified as Tog struggles grow weaker and weaker. Tog yells and screams, grow fader and fader as the horror of the jungle hits the titans about the great ape's massive chest. Here we go. Oh, if I can only guess for him in time. Fight, Tog. Fight. I'm coming to help you. Jane remembers her revolver. If only she can get close enough to shoot the Snake without killing Tog. Jane swings from the platform as she has seen Tarzan do so many times. She drops. Her slender arms reach out to catch a lower branch. She holds it. The rough mark cuts and bites into her hands, but she holds on. Her feet reach for a yet lower limb. They touch it quickly. She drops again. Now, she's on the ground. Jumping aside, she misses the darting, swinging sweep of the Snake's head. Again, hissa strikes. Jane holds the revolver at arm's length. The Snake snaps at her hand. She presses the trigger. Again and again, the bullets tear into the repulsive head. Tog is deafened by the explosions so close to his head. Tarzan swinging his way back from the dum-dum. The shots mean danger. Danger to Jane. With terrific speed, he flashes through the treetops. Swearing branch and bending limb give beneath his short foot an accurate hand. He draws closer to the clearing. Down, down through the dense spreading foliage, he drops like a meteor. The Virgil sings. In the light-blooded clearing, he sees Jane gone in hand. Jane. Jane. Oh, my skin. I think I've killed it. I hope Tog is all right. Let's make a taxi back. I shot it. Jane, kill hissa? Jane, bundle all hissa? Tog? Tarzan steps forward and helps Tog free himself from the now relaxed coils. Tog shakes his huge head in an effort to rid it of the ringing sound caused by the shot. Tog, Tog. Like Jane. Many, many. Jane, kill hissa? Jane, no more frightened. White skin like many, many. Thanks, white skin. I'm all upset, but I'm glad that I was able to save Tarzan's life. Oh, I hate to kill anything, but I hate Snake's words. All jungle afraid, hissa? Yes, a busy thing. I don't want it all, but jungle fears them. Is Tog all right? Jane turns to find Tog grasping the snake in his hands. The great ape examines the dead reptile with mystified eyes. He knows that Jane killed it, but how? He twists and turns the dead snake about, then he turns to Tarzan. Tog, look see what killed hissa. Jane, shoot gun. Bundle all hissa. I wonder. Now is my opportunity to prove that with a gun I am able to defend myself. I am to be feared if I skin. Yes, Jane. Jane, what Tog looks see? Jane, shoot gun. Luma, Sheeter, any jungle frightened Jane. Jane, shoot. Jane, shoot. Jane, talk Tog. Tog. Jane, same as white skin. Luma, Saber, Kerchak, Titan. Jane, kill quick. Yes, white skin. And I'm going to shoot Tog. Jane, shoot gun. Tog looks through my teeth hissa kill. Tog, get our move. Arm and gunny. Arm, stay loose, then. Bundle all hissa. Look Tog, tree. As Jane raises the gun and points it at a different tree, Tog claps his airy hands over his ears to shut out the sound he knows will come. Tog mambles forward and tries to dig the bullet from the plowed up bark of the tree. Tarzan picks Jane up in his arms and starts back to the platform. Jane smiles for she knows that Tog will tell the ape tribe of the killing. Knows that from now on she, Jane Porter, is a power to be reckoned with in this vast African jungle. In their hut in the cannibal crowd, Professor Porter, Belander, and Clayton are recovering from the effect of the poison cup. Lying in the center of the hut is the witch doctor. Eyes glazed, hideous wrinkled face drawn, and bending over him threateningly, Lieutenant Arnaud. What's the matter, Dono? I'm going to tell you what I'm going to tell you. What's the matter? I'm going to tell you what I'm going to tell you. What's the matter? I'm going to tell you what I'm going to tell you. Come on, come on, come on, don't forget. Are you making a headway, Dono? As much as could be expected with this jackal, I threatened him with the fire, the cooking pot, everything I could think of in his neck if stung. What did you say, Dono? I mean, what sort of promise did you get out of it? He promises, Monsieur, for such as they are, he promises to leave us alone, to use what influence he has left in promoting our interests with the chief. And what if my chief... He says that she will not be half. Then that at least is something. But not to be relied upon, Monsieur, the professor, that is something beyond the witch doctor's power. No, no, Monsieur, if Nemoiselle Jane ever falls into the hands of these savages after what has happened, for them that is what we must prevent. And here are some things that will help prevent them. Are you listening? In the first place, the most important thing to the cannibals is rain. Yes, rain, but... But how? Just what I was thinking, professor. Making rain is not one of my accomplices. Every moment, Monsieur, through what the native's own stupidity will help us out. Are you sufficient to recover from that poison to travel? I believe I am. By the way, Dono, do you know what that beastly stuff was, or is it? Oh, well, it is made from the bark of a tree. A vile, tasting infusion, but not deadly. Well, I knew that because the witch doctor drank it. But how did the witch doctor expect us to die? Monsieur Clétin, the witch doctor has played on the credulity of these natives until they thoroughly believe that this witch's brew is poison. The effect on them, believing that they will die if they drink it, is that they actually die. And the witch doctor thought that he would be successful with us? Sir, I think what that is fast. The main point is, I have information that will, I am sure, get us out of here. Oh, I've heard that so many times. Yes, Monsieur Clétin. I freely admit that had I known that there was a, what there was not in this compound, we would not now find ourselves in this predicament. But, yes, what is the use of crying when you milk it? It is still. And what is this information? In it is a locked chamber, a cave, I imagine. And in that cave is a mummy, which they believe to be possessed by a powerful spirit or demon. A mummy? That is not so extraordinary, Clétin. The numerous mummies have been found in Central Africa. I see no reason why one should not have found its way here. Eh, Puyalo, to be brief. The natives believe that the spirit has left the mummy because of some wrongdoing on the part of the tribe. Ah, similar to ancient Egyptian beliefs. And the spirit must return to the mummy in order to bring rain. Exactement. And for them, they believe that the spirit has occupied the body of the devil god that haunts them, steals their arrows, and so on. Then we may have these savages on our side, looking for, I still say, Tarzan of the Eighth. And eventually, Jane, of when do we start? I knew that you would be anxious, so we shall start. A shot! That means the cruiser must have returned. Quick, quick, darling! This temple, or cave, is in outside the compound. How do we get there? Then tell the natives we must go to perform the ceremonies once. It's a chance to get out of here. Come on! The shot that Darno believed was fired by one of the sailors from the returning cruiser was in reality, Jane's demonstration to Thog, the Great Eighth. Thog has dragged off the dead snake to display it at the Eighth Dumb Dumb. And Jane and Tarzan seated on the platform, watched the coming night with its velvet sky and silver shimmering stars settle over the jungle. Listen! Numa, Tabor, hungry, hunt! It may be dangerous and brutal and horrible, White Skin, but it is beautiful. Yes, Jane, jungle frightened, but jungle beautiful. Beautiful! White Skin like jungle. Yes, White Skin. I can understand that. White Skin like Jane. Many, many like Jane. And Jane like White Skin. If only you were civilized. If only you hadn't been raised in this jungle. Why, with your strength, your wonderful athletic figure, people would turn and look at you anywhere. You'd be the center of admiring eyes. What? Jane? Oh, you wouldn't understand White Skin. Jane just talked off to herself. For the first time, I almost feel at home. Perhaps it's because I'm armed and a force in one. Or again, maybe I feel that not only have I been able to look after myself, but that I've been able to save one of your friends, White Skin. And I feel that I've raised myself in your esteem. What, Jane? You wouldn't understand White Skin. You're not being able to understand something has its disadvantages. But then, it has its advantages too. At least, I can talk to myself. Save what I want to without, well, being questioned too closely. Falling night softens the stark outlines of the jungle trees. Numer, saber, all the jungle cats start their prowl for food. But tonight, their deep-throated roars mean nothing to Jane Porter. She's safe, happy, contented with Tarzan by her side. She leans back on the platform of twisted branches, relaxed, humming softly to herself as Tarzan fascinated watches. Again, Jane. Again. Can you find Jane when they leave, or is the witch doctor planning revenge? This is...