 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 headhunters of Yambisi. Some parts of Africa have changed little since the days when the first white men crossed the dark continent. And those changes that have occurred may be traced to the patient missionaries, the determined colonists, the intrepid pioneers who have long battled against the aboriginal cruelties of the wild people who inhabit a wild land. But laws passed in foreign countries and relayed to colonial administrators will never alter the nature of the Congo. Instead, these laws often cause resentment and stimulate fresh outbreaks of terror. The enactment of a recent law had brought Tarzan to San Dizier to speak to Jean Aubert, Governor-General. But why should anyone want to tear down the curtain barriers which mark the forbidden trails? Well, those who enact the law do not realize that these trails forbidden to white men, they are merely small paths used for native ceremonial. They cannot understand that these trails lead only to sacred places of no importance to civilized men. But if they knew that these barriers saved the lives of those inexperienced in the jungle, surely they wouldn't... Now, someone mentioned these forbidden trails in a report. And it stirred up a controversy in the Chamber of Deputies. And one fat politician spoke of restraint of trade. Another said the natives are attempting to halt colonial expansion. Can't they realize that it's dangerous to stir up the natives? Well, to them thousands of miles away, the stories of native voodoo, of savagery, of idol worship, barbarism... There are mere exaggerations to make our task here seem more important. If those who pass your laws could only witness some of the native practices that flourish in the Congo... No, I doubt they would believe their own eyes. Even now, in an anti-rub, there sits a gentleman who has asked me to stage some native ceremonies for him. To stage them? He is an American magazine photographer. He has learned of Africa through the cinema. He has come here to do a feature article on the modern Africa. And when he completes his task, the world will believe our citizens are as easily controlled as students in a classroom. You mean he has already made up his mind what he will find in the jungle? He is a brash, red-haired idiot. He has already confided to me the title of his article and the accompanying pictures. The heading is to read, Africa debunked. But such a view of our country will only bring fresh misunderstandings, new laws to infuriate the natives. Can't you forbid him to enter the jungle? My instructions are to accord him every courtesy. I cannot disregard these orders. Then permit me to be his guide. I promise you that he will not find my Africa a land of gentle people who can be ruled by a shelf full of law books. Hello? You are hereby appointed his official guide, Tarzan. You have my permission to make his red hair turn white. But I shall hold you responsible for his life. Mr. Tarzan, Mr. Red Hail. First time you ever saw a red hail, huh? Usually it's white. I'm happy to see you have a sense of humor, Mr. Hail. You're apt to need it before he returns to Sunday's game. Well, I'm game. Yeah, nothing surprises me. Not even that leopard skin you wear. Hey, where'd you get it? From the good old USA by mail order? This is the skin of a leopard who was about to rend a native child limb from limb. It was fortunate that I was able to jump between them. And you killed the leopard with your bare hands, huh? Mr. Tarzan's feats of bravery and strength are legend in our country. I gotta hand it to you guys. You're a real showman. Oh, gosh, if you could stage a battle with a leopard for me, I could get a series of pictures that'd sell a million copies of the magazine I work for. Well, then you are willing to accept me as a guide? Sure, sure. Why not? You and I'll take a jaunt through the jungle and bring back enough material to go into business. I'm afraid you and I will need assistance on our jaunt. I can travel unaided through the jungle, but those unused to jungle ways must have bearers, porters, personal boys, a scurry. Well, I'm on an expense account. Let's shoot the works. I took the liberty of lining up a mania para, a headman. He is waiting outside. Yeah, all right. Try on him out. I hope he has a ring through his nose. He'll make a great copy. Mickey! Mickey! Mickey? That's the name of the savage mania, whatever you call it. It is a simplified version of his native name. One is adopted for use when he serves as a headman for safaris. Well, how are you? I'm fine. How are you? I'm fine. A native headman, dressed in an army shirt and an overseas cap. A little out of character, ain't he? Mr. Red Hale, this is Monarchy Mickey, whom you may call Mickey. He used to be your headman. I'm glad to meet you. Where catch'em white men's clothes? I secured the uniform as part of the regular equipment that I issued to student engineers sent from Africa to Europe a few years ago. I was best in my class. Ah, there you see what I mean? All of this talk about savage Africa. And my headman talks like a college instructor. What made you come back out here, Professor Mickey? I returned, Mr. Hale, because I could not accustom myself to the ways of so-called civilized people. Inside, I'm still what you call a savage. I hope I'm able to restrain my savagery in dealing with you, Mr. Red Hale. But perhaps temptation may prove too great. In just a moment, we will learn what adventures befall Mickey, Red Hale and Tarzan when they plunge into the jungle. Set among the native huts, the sun-white and governmental buildings, the colorful native bazaars, and the exotic shops of Lagos is a modern building which bears the sign that it's a folly equipment corporation limited. And it was to this modern structure that Tarzan brought the skeptical Mr. Red Hale. Now, don't tell me I know it. It just looks modern. Inside, I'll find a clerk with a bone through his nose and wearing a breech cloth made out of a gorilla's skin. Oh, on the contrary, you'll find Mr. Bridges well-dressed and extremely civilized. He may be the last civilized man you see for a long time. Noon Tarzan. Good afternoon, sir. Mr. Bridges, Mr. Hale. Can I have a go at the jungle, eh? Yes, yes. I'm going to brave the jungle wiles where no white man has ever tried. Sounds like a travelogue, doesn't it? Yes, precisely. We will require a Greenland intent for Mr. Hale's use. Right, oh, one Greenland intent. We carry only the finer, sir. Lined in red is an added protection against the sun. Some colors are more heat-resistant than others, you know? Well, the color of my hair ought to be some protection. We shall need Uganda water bottles, airtight tin boxes, a portable wash stand, and the other usual camping equipment. Right, huh? In addition, you'd best measure Mr. Hale for mosquito boots and suitable clothing. Oh, we'll fix him up first-rate. Hey, what's that up there? Well, that's a hammock chair, sir. Oh, one of those things they carry you in, huh? That's right, sir. Two porters carry the chair suspended between them. Mm-hmm. Well, when you make up the order, throw in one of those. Uh, Mr. Hale, they are meant for invalids or women. Or for guys who don't like walkin', huh? But it will be almost impossible for porters to carry such a chair on the path as we will follow. I said we're taking the chair. All right. But I think that before our return, you will find that this is the most dangerous decision you've ever made. How do you figure that? I think from now on I'll let experience be your teacher. Lessons so learned, our best remembered. If the pupil lives. The porters and barrows are already complaining, Tarzan. I know it's most difficult to carry Mr. Hale in his hammock chair. I don't know what we can do about it yet. Yeah, their complaints are only partly caused by the weight of the chair and the heavy photographic equipment he insists on carrying within it. Even though many of them understand not a word of English, they sense his scorn, his contempt of it. I know. He doesn't realize what their friendship may mean to him. He still thinks our jungle is a stage setting. But during the past few days, dozens of porousous animals have come within a few feet up in here. His eyes might well be those of a newborn baby who's not yet learned to use them. He's seen neither the animals nor the unfriendly tribesmen who have peered at him from behind every bush. Hey, take some pictures out. Tarzan is only one thing to do. Scare him so badly his ideas and his manners will change. Well, that's exactly what I have in mind. Even if I have to assist nature. What's wise to your game? Now, let me tell you this. There isn't anything you can roll out that will scare me. I don't scare easy. I'm sure you're very brave, Mr. Hill. Now, hey, you guys, hey, just keep this chair moving along. When I want to slow up, I'll tell you. Perhaps it would be good to let the Wapigase arrest here, Tarzan. No, Mickey, the porters must go on for now. I've cut the scent of an elephant herd, and at this time of the year, they... Elephants, eh? Well, let's head for them. Might be able to get some good pictures for a change. The season is a dry one. If they hunt for water, they might be... You heard me. I'm footing the bills for this safari. Now get going. With many misgivings, Tarzan ordered the safari in the direction from which he had caught the scent of Tantor, the elephant. Now the jungle path wound through a tangled bamboo forest and then emerged into a small, peaceful-looking clearing. But as the safari crossed the small open space, the elephant herd crashed through the dense undergrowth on the opposite side. The native bearers in sudden panic dropped the hammock chair containing Mr. Hale and fled. Tarzan grasped the vine and swung into a tree. Now, with unhearing accuracy, the jungle lord dropped on the head of the lead elephant, kicked its savagery on the side of its head, causing it to swerve. An instant before the hammock chair would have been tinned into mighty hooks. Following their leader, the rest of the herd also swerved. Tarzan grasped the limb of an overhanging bow and pulled himself up into a tree as the elephant herd thundered away. Well, Mr. Hale, are you satisfied now that Tarzan and I have not been lying to you about the dangers of the jungle? Oh, gosh, did I get some wonderful shots of that stampede? They're worth their weight and gold. Are you all right, Mr. Hale? Sure, sure, I'm all right, Tarzan. I told you I don't scare eating. Unfounded courage is often stupidity. You're like a baby ape who attempts to attack a panther. Yeah, it may be so, except that I've never seen an ape with red hair. Well, tell the boys to come out from behind those trees. I'd like to reach our camping place early tonight so I can try to develop a couple of these pictures. Well, what's holding things up? The porters and bearers have deserted us, Mr. Hale. What? Even before you needlessly endangered their life by insisting on crossing a path of an elephant herd, they spoke among themselves, refusing to serve you further. Did you know about this, Tarzan? I did not know they'd run off taking all our food and equipment, but I was aware they might desert. Well, then, why didn't you do something about it? I permitted experience to give its first lesson. And now, if you can tear yourself from that chair, we shall walk from here. Okay, okay. Although you may not realize it, the chair you insisted on buying might have been the cause of your death. Had you been walking, you could have leaped for the protection of the trees, as the natives did. Then I wouldn't have gotten my pictures. Oh, here, Mickey, you carry the camera. Feed it tenderly now. Tarzan, you carry the snap sack with my darkroom supplies. And what will you carry? Myself. Hey, aren't those our boys hiding in the bushes over there? No, your eyesight is improving. A few days ago, you would not have known anyone watched us from the edge of the clearing. Hey! Hey, you guys! If you think for one minute that I'm going to stay... They are not our boys, Mr. Hale. Huh? They're members of the Yambizi tribe. This is their land. Okay, we'll put a few of them on the payroll then. And I won't have to leave my chair behind. I'm afraid it would be unwise to hire Yambizi natives, even if they're willing. In the name of heaven, why not? They are cannibals and head hunters. Oh, no, you're not going to try to feed me that junk again. Hey! Hey, you! Nina, good job, Buona. How are you? What'd he say? He's their chief and he says he's approaching you and brings his men. Yambu Buona. Oh, yeah, yeah, hello yourself. I'm glad to meet you. Hey, lay off, will you? All right, quit bothering me. Leave my hair alone. Do not touch the white man. Why did they do that? I've never seen red hair before. Perhaps they think it would make a nice trophy. So that's the angle now, huh? Mickey and you have cooked up this yarn about head hunters just to scare me. Oh, honestly, why don't you... This is not something Mickey and I have cooked up. These men are the fiercest savages of the entire jungle. Oh, good, good. Hey, what does the chief mean by these motions he's making? In sign language, he's inviting us to their village so that we may share their evening meal. That's lucky with all our food, too. I can hunt for food. It's not wise to enter their village. For the last time, I'm tired of this game you're playing. I'm going to their village. You coming? Yes, if you insist. Mickey and I shall accompany you. Oh, and the Nikule. And now what? They will return by that path over there. We are to reach their village by the elephant trail that skirts the small mountain just east of here. They're going to cut through there, and we have to go all the way around that mountain? Yes, they were on the trail taking part in a ceremony when our encounter with the elephants disturbed them. The trail is for ceremonial purposes only, and none but members of the Ambezi may walk upon it. Oh, it's one of those trails they just passed that new law about then, huh? Yes, and it is taboo for strangers to go beyond that curtain of dried palm fiber. You mean those old dried leaves are supposed to keep us out? No, we're to be kept out by our knowledge that those who break the taboo are apt to meet sudden death. Well, now in the first place, I know all about that new law. It makes these forbidden trails open to everybody. In the second place, I'm not taking a long way when there's a short one. And in the third place, I'm fed to the teeth with all this hocus pocus. I'm taking that forbidden trail. It is not wise. I'll get along all right. I've got a head on my shoulders. Yes, but it may not rest there long. In just a moment, we shall learn the fate of the dead Mickey and Tarzan in the village of the headhunters of Yambisi. Well, Tarzan, I guess our friend Mr. Hale has reached the village of the Yambisi by now. Yes, the forbidden trail he insisted on taking must be hours shorter than this path. Perhaps he never reached the village. Perhaps they killed him the moment they discovered he'd broken their taboo. No, and I thought his life was an immediate danger. I would not have left him. The governor general is holding me responsible for his life, after all. Then you're counting on the Yambisi before they kill him, huh? It is the way of all tribes, is it not, Mickey? Yes, but when his time comes, how will you save him? I may not. But your promise to the governor general, you said... Mickey, more sacred than anything, is my love of the jungle and its people. Even the savage Yambisi who merely follow the teachings of their fathers. And if Red Hill continues to scoff if he writes an article that will cause more ridiculous laws to be passed, the jungle people will suffer. Is that what you mean? Exactly. Until Mr. Hale shows fear, until he has learned to respect the ways of the jungle, I cannot help him. I believe there's more savagery left in you than there is in me. Perhaps. Come, Mickey. We're reaching the edge of the village, eh? How about us? Do you think the Yambisi will want to take our lives as well as his? I don't know. Like we must be unguarded in a moment. Look, cousin! Hale! They're all alone, unguarded. They're watching him. See how they stand about in small groups? They've certainly given him the best hut in the village. And look, they've decorated him with necklaces and bracelets. Maybe we're wrong, Tarzan. Hi there! Hi! Come on over. The crubs swell. And look, don't tell me what I mean. I don't want to know. So you have made friends quickly. Yeah, I told you I'd get by. The forbidden trail, they didn't attempt to stop you? The young girls back to the village. Seems they'd had some sort of a tribal rite that made it okay for these girls to take husbands. You interrupted the bride ritual? Oh, interrupted nothing. They were tickled at death. I took pictures of all the girls, the chief, and a guy who calls himself that grand something or other. And when I got back here, I developed the pictures. Now they think I'm some sort of a witch doctor. Just give me another week here and I can run for vice president. I see. You know, you had me half-believe and I'd find one of these iron kettles in the middle of the village with a missionary stuck in the center of it. The yambises do not cook their meat. Well, whatever I'm eating here is cooked and it's darn good. Hey, pals, bring some of this stuff over for my friends here. He needs one of them. Hey, wait a minute. Where's the other guy? You know, one of them talks a little English. Oh, there. There he is over there. A witch doctor. And he's wearing his sacrificial dress. Yeah, like a kid in Halloween, painting his face white, wearing all that funny junk. Do you know what that junk is he wears about his waist? Some of those voodoo dolls I've read about I get. They are human heads. Human heads. You kid. They're no bigger than my fist. The yambises are clever in shrinking heads without altering a single feature. And despite his apparent friendship, I believe the witch doctor plans on adding another doll to his collection. One with red hair. Now, Nikita, despite the witch doctor's sacrificial costume and the ceremonial dress of the entire tribe, they haven't given an indication at all of meaning harm to him. He's smarter than we've given him credit for. It's been to pictures. They've never seen anything like it before. That's right. They're doing exactly what he says. They're staging their ceremony so he can use his magic box. As long as he gives them prints to fasten on their totem poles, they're happy. Hey, hey, did you see that? Native jugglers using children instead of Indian clubs. Oh boy, won't that make a shot. Hey, on those knives, when they throw the kids, they only miss the knives by inches. It's a native practice that even we who are used to the jungle ways have been trying to stamp out. Many children have been killed in this dance. Oh, go on. The kids aren't even scared. They're hypnotized. They are? Boy, well, that make a magazine spread. Yambises. An hour. What about the next act, eh? Now the snake charmer is to perform for you. Huh? It's developing into a three-ring circus. And what are those guys doing? Passing needles and hooks and pins into their bodies. Yeah? Hey, Mickey, hand me that pouch with my flash bulbs in it. Oh boy, this is great. They are holy men who torture their bodies in the belief they will earn absolutions from all their sins and be rewarded with eternal happiness. I'll reward them with some candid camera shots of their act. Hey, hand me that small box and I'll light meter in it. Will you hurry? Yes. There you are. Now the night dancers are here with all this material around. I need six cameras and a dozen hands. I'll hold that bag with the spare film in it. No, no, I'll just toss it in this stone away. No, no, Mr. Hale. No, that's their sacred rock. It's just a brown stone. That stone is granite. It is brown from blood stains. Well, it's well dried in. It won't hurt the film, any. You defiled sacred rock. Come on, let's keep the show going. Much we let you do. Walk forbidden trail. See maidens at bridal right enter tribal circle is enough. Now you defiled sacred stone. Wait, wait. Take it easy now. I'll develop these pictures in the morning and you will have them. Well, Mr. Hale, I think you've finally done it. Huh? Done what? You've finally persuaded them to prove to you the savagery of the jungle. You're still trying to scare me, aren't you? Why don't they quit the rags? And now they sing about it. What are they singing about? Native tribes make up their songs as they go along. This one tells how a matuhodare clever man came to their village and made them small and flat. That's how they describe the pictures you've taken. Yeah? It tells of how they fed you and permitted you to do what no one outside of the tribe has ever been permitted to do. Tarzan, the knife man is sharpening his execution blade. Mickey, they're all busy. I want you to slip from the village and start back towards San Dizier. We will try to meet you on the tribe. No, I'll stay as long as... No, go, go. I can travel more quickly than you. Even if I'm to carry Mr. Hale. Leave now. All right. I wish you well, Tarzan. I... I'm still not falling for this racket, the knife man. You've arranged all this with the NBC. What are they saying in that song now? None. Not even the members of their tribe. Not even their own chief may place anything except a human head on the sacred rock. Tarzan, Tarzan, look, they're coming this way. The one with the green painted face does have a knife. It's as sharp as a surgeon's scalpel. I will stand by your side and believe you. Well, look, they're not kidding. They're walking slowly, but they mean business. They do indeed. Yeah, that's too late. We can't escape. Perhaps not. I can do something else. Save me. I've been so scared in my life. Traveling over your shoulder through the tops of the trees was almost more frightening than those headhunters. But this fright will pass. Had the men of Yambizi advanced a step closer, you would not have recovered. Yeah, I know that now. It wasn't until they were anxious for me that I suddenly realized the difference between what I've seen in the movies and the real thing. Oh, brother, I know now. I've seen enough of the Jungle Tarzan. Good. I will take you back to San Diego, Mr. Hill. And when you write your article and publish those pictures you did not drop in your fright, you will tell the world that Africa is still Africa. And civilized men must understand and fear their ways. We'll return in just a moment to tell you about our next story of Tarzan. A sudden scream in the jungle night brings Tarzan to the rescue of a beautiful golden-haired woman who was wandered alone into the most dangerous part of the Congo. And through her, Tarzan meets the most ruthless man Africa has ever known, a man with a driving urge to kill every type of animal alive, including man. Tarzan becomes the quarry of a savage manhunt in trophy room. Tarzan, the transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs is produced by Walter White Jr. prepared for radio by Bud Lesser and this is a Commodore production.