 Tired of the everyday grind? Ever dream of a life of romantic adventure? Want to get away from it all? We offer you escape. Escape. Designed to free you from the four walls of today for a half hour of high adventure. You are on an island in the South Pacific, a fortune within your reach. Yet standing between you and freedom, keeping you a captive and a slave, is a giant of a man and the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. Listen now as escape brings you John Russell's great story The Bird of Paradise. With his heart full of greed and a hundred pounds in his pocket, Andrew Harbin traveled east through the archipelago into the Solomon Sea. He went questing across many degrees of latitude before he came to the Spice Islands, where at the ancient town of Ternate he found the shop of a fat Dutch half-caste. There he was shown into a room that flamed with color, as if all the rainbows of the seas had been trapped and graded and hung up for sale. These were the skins of the birds of paradise, the shyest and rarest of all creatures. Dutchman. Yeah? Which is the prized bird of this lot? All are very scarce. I didn't ask that, I ask which is the scarcest. I will make you a bargain on any of them. I know you won't, I'll make you a bargain. I do not understand. It's not your prized cell I want, but a buy. You have birds for me to buy? Not yet, but I will have. Where do these skins come from? Who knows? From island tribes to the east somewhere, sea gypsies trade them from coast to coast until they finally arrive near enough to Ternate for me to buy. There'll be no middlemen with me, I'll go direct to the islands. Maybe you might kill five, six natives before they cut off your head. Nonsense. Also the sun is very hot today. Now look here you stupid Dutchman. I meant no insult, please. And watch your tongue before I twist it out of your fat mouth. All right. It's your life, your risk. Come, I will show you something. Now in this chest is the rarest bird of all. Show me. Purple and gold. I never saw one like that. I call it the imperial bird of paradise. Once a year comes to me six skins. No more, worth fifty times the price of common ones. Fifty times? Never comes more than six skins. From where? Who knows? The natives with which I trade and the wild sea gypsies with which they trade. Nobody knows. But somewhere east is an island, one island where lives the imperial bird of paradise. I'm not looking for fairy tales Dutchman. Yeah, well maybe it is only a fairy tale. But you do get a few of these skins, huh? Half dozen a year. No more? Very well then. Tell me where I can pick up a small cutter. Sea worthy but cheap. I'm going to find that island. The Solomon Sea is sprinkled with thousands of tiny islands, one very much like another, and all equally wild and uncharted. And very soon after sailing from Ternate, Andrew Harbin could not have told his whereabouts on a map within the dab of his thumb. For three months he wandered fruitlessly through the sea and touched upon island after island. Then, as he was about to give up, he fell ill with a fever and when a howling gale smashed his vessel on a reef one night he was cast ashore, dazed and scarcely caring where he had landed. When morning came it wasn't the sun that woke him but a huge monster of a man with cold blue eyes and a thick red beard. Are you dead or just playing balsam? I thought so. Where's your boat, mister? Who's here with you? I'm alone. My boat's wrecked. Rounder landed in the storm, what kind of a sailor are you? I'm not a sailor. Well, what might you be then? A trader. A businessman. That's a lie. There's no white traders among these islands, never have been. Well, I'm not exactly a trader. I'm looking for something. Maybe you can help me after I get little food and rest and see about that when you tell me what you're looking for. I'm looking for an island. Oh, you are a... Well, you're on an island. My island. Your island? Who are you anyway? I'm Jim Orion, late second May to the school and a merry friend rector that reef out there December 19 three years ago and you you're nothing but a sneak and trespasser. I know what you're looking for. I came in in peace Orion. I don't want your island. Yes, you do. You're one of them fortune hunters is what you are. I tell you, mister, I've been expecting one of your kind. I've been waiting for you. Waiting? For me? Or some thief like you. But you should have brought along a company and a machine gun or two. I imagine you think to cut out this little island by your lonely the likes of you. You'd have brought your neck first off. Why didn't you? Wanted to be sure in my mind just what manner of man you are first. And, sir, you've come to destroy this place. The stink of the world is on you, mister. You're evil and you're going to be treated like evil. I've gone too far to be stopped now, Orion. The fight you want will win. And so the huge Orion took Andrew Harbin, now unconscious, slung him under one arm and climbed the beach to a little clearing in the jungle beyond. There stood a neat bamboo house and before it a girl. She was clothed in one gorgeous robe of purple and gold, made all of bird skins, hundreds of imperial paradise bird skins. And she herself was even more beautiful than they. Orion, you lied to me. You did not bury them all. You told me you buried them, everyone. How do you know I didn't dig this lad up again, Legoma? Who do you think it might be now? The captain? It can't be. No. Captain never could have growled some monsters thin. Look at this. He's alive, Orion. It's a man. What's left? A poor specimen of that. Wouldn't it be best to kill him now, Legoma? No. No. Now what's this to bite me? What made you do that? What's come to you? I want him. Don't bury him away in the ground with the others. He's a new white man. I want him to keep. Oh, you do, eh? I had no idea I was bringing a present strike your fancy so close. Well, you little spitfire. Don't, don't you touch her, Orion. Oh, look, Legoma. Your beachcomber's going to be a hero. Lay off. Come on, lad. Give it to me. Well, give it to me. Now again, get up and try it again. Oh, man, that was good. First fair wallop I've had of the enemy armed for three years. Stop, Orion. Don't spoil him. Don't take him away from me or I will be very angry. Carry him into the house now before he dies. You're awake now, eh? I'm awake. Three days of eating and sleepin' is enough. I've got a bit of fever yet. That'll go. I want to thank you and Legoma both for your care. Do you now? Well, I'd have died otherwise. My real mistake was not cracking your neck off on Legoma laid eyes on you. I forgot the child had seen no other man but me for years. Now she's taken a notion to you, like a new toy or a bit of a poodle dog. You kept me alive. And I let you live such as Yarsos and Legoma'll have her poodle to play with. Even though you come to this lovely Eden of mine to rob it for dirty gain, you're the even buccaneer. I'm an honest trader, Orion. I'm not a thief. Maybe Legoma believes that. Even though I wonder what you come here for and what kind of a man you are, she's all innocent, that child. But what is there here to rob you of? It's just another island. It's the island you was hunting for, you scum. I'm sorry I ever traded one of them purple bird skins now. I might have known her to bring greedy devils like yourself smelling for the place. They had to have knives and tobacco and then see gypsies that take nothing else. Oh, oh, you mean the birds of paradise. Don't be sly with me, you filthy rat. And forget about Legoma, too. He thinks you're something grand now. He'll know better when she sees you put to your proper place. What do you mean? There's no gun on this island, Harman. Whenever you want to kill me, you'll have to try with your hands. And you can try and I can smash your face again. Why should I try? Well, you're not going to like the jobs I set you to. Jobs? Didn't I tell you? There's much to be done by way of public improvement around here. And you'll start in a big pit, I've dug clear in a spring of water. Well, you mean it. You're going to keep me as a slave? Well, you don't think I'd let you go and know what you do about them birds, do you now? What do I care about your birds? I told you to stop that lying. Now a slave is what you are. Till you prove yourself a better man than me, do you see? You are listening to The Bird of Paradise, tonight's presentation on Escape. Stan Freeberg stars on CBS Radio's Friday Night Comedy series called That's Rich. Try it on for size and for laughs, tomorrow night on most of these same stations. That's rich, you will say, and you'll be right. And now, Escape and the second act of The Bird of Paradise. Andrew Harbin had traveled far and suffered much to find the island of the Imperial Bird of Paradise, but his pains had just begun. Still weak and feverish, he was taken next day to the edge of a black volcanic cliff, and there he was kicked into a great hole some 12 feet deep and with straight unscalable sides. After him Orion threw a wooden spade and a bucket and ordered him to dig for a spring that might lie under the rock. And here Andrew Harbin toiled and sweated like the slave he had become day after day. And here he lived. At noon, Nagoma would bring his food and lower it in a basket and then perched on the bank above him, she gazed down at him and talked. Are you feeling better today, Andrew? How could I feel better? Kept down here like a bear in a pit. Sometimes I think you should have never come to this island at all. Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head, Nagoma. Not much, I suppose. I know little of the world, only what Orion has told me. I see. Look, Nagoma, don't you ever want to get away from here, get out into the world? I've never been in the world. I was going to port Norseby a missionary was taking me, but he was drowned when we wrecked. The island where I was born in this one is all I know. Nagoma, how would you like to go with me? With you? I'd like that, Andrew. But Orion says the world isn't nice. He says people are always stealing and lying and fighting. Nobody has any honesty or honor. No, no, no. That's not true. Orion says it is. He says if people knew of us, they'd take our world away. Do you love Orion, Nagoma? Sometimes I'd comb his beard. Maybe. I'd like to comb yours too, Andrew. You have such a pretty yellow beard, all curly. Well, listen, Nagoma, you can't comb the beards of two men. You can only love one man. You talk such funny words, Andrew. I know nothing of these things. What use are so many words? Oh, I'll show you what use they are, Nagoma. How? Help me get out of this pit some dark night. Oh, no, Andrew. He put you there. Listen, Nagoma, do you know why I came to this island? Orion says it was because you are a thief. No, no, no, no. I came here to take you away, Nagoma. I came to find you and take you back with me. Hi, Andrew. Because I love you and because you're beautiful. There's no one in the world as beautiful as you, Nagoma. Is this true? Orion told you I came seeking the bird of paradise, didn't he? Yes. Well, he's right. Except for one thing. What one thing, Andrew? You are the bird of paradise. Oh, Andrew. I'm so glad you're still alive. Pirating's Korean, how's the look down there? Orion, if you've any decency left, get me out of here. A thief on a spider like you talking of decency. Get to work and find that spring. By heaven, you're not worth your keep, Arbonne. I'm coming down there. You wait till I fix my rope. You might have let me climb down that rope instead of kicking me into this hole like you did. The rope's for me. Arbonne, you've done mighty little work down here. There's no spring under this rock or rye, and you know it. Why, then, dig for gold, man, or precious stones. You're a fortune hunter, are you not? You're insane. Insane, am I? Because I want to live here in peace. Because Nagoma's more to me than the riches I can have from the birds. All right, be... All right. Look, Orion, you've got a boat. I saw it. Let me take it and leave here. I thought of that. It's a million to one chance that you'd never be able to find your way back, but I won't risk it. What are you going to do with me, then? Arbonne, a plucky freebooter like you can handle a shovel brisker than you've been doing. Now dig into it, you lazy skullbunker. Now, I won't. You won't, eh? Then maybe you're ready to fight. Is that it, lads? No, no. You'll hurt him. No, he's not hurt, Nagoma. He needed limbering up his all. I'm coming out now. You promised me, Orion. I promised you what? You said you wouldn't spoil him. Oh, oh, oh. Well, now look at him now, Nagoma. He's on his feet again as good as new. Are you all right, Andrew? I'm all right. Eh? Now, I've worked to do it, Nagoma, and you can stay and play with your poodle dog, if you like. And you keep away from him, Orion. You teach him to be civil then. Poor Andrew. Would you like some water? No, thanks. You mustn't think Orion's always so mean. You should have seen how patient he was teaching me to read. He taught you to read? Out of a book he saved from the ship. It's the only one we have. No. It's the ship's book. The log. The log? The log of the merry friend? Of course. It's not very interesting. It's full of numbers, Amalai. Sure, sure. Numbers. Longitude and latitude. Every day. Every day till she was wrecked out there. What, Andrew? Listen, uh, uh, Goma, Goma, I'm a far better educated man than Orion. I can teach you many wonderful things he's never heard of. Can you, Andrew? Of course. But you'll have to bring the book with you. What good would that do, Andrew? You down there and me up here. Listen to me, Nagoma. All the things I have to teach, I must whisper to you with my lips against your ear. Do you understand? Are they truly wonderful things, Andrew? Oh, wonderful things, Nagoma. But don't you see, I'll have to get out of here first. But how can you get out? The rope. Orion's rope. You can tie it and drop it down and leave it hanging. And then when it's dark, I'll come out and meet you on the beach. Orion would be very angry at you. You'll never know. And tonight, Nagoma, bring the book with you to the beach. I'll meet you there, where Orion's boat is anchored. All right. All right, Andrew. And maybe I can comb your pretty yellow beard. Oh, yes. Yes, Nagoma. Yes, of course. Andrew Harbin had known many women and many different kinds, but Nagoma's almost incredible simplicity was something new and startling. Because of it, however, he regained his freedom. And when night came, he climbed up the rope and made his way to the beach. His wooden shovel in hand in case Orion should stumble on them. Nagoma was waiting, as she had promised. And in the moonlight, she seemed more than ever like the imperial bird of paradise. He put out his hand and touched her priceless robe where it hung across one shoulder. Andrew, you've come out. Orion will kill you if he finds us. It's worth the risk, Nagoma. Oh, I did a very bad thing to listen to you and let you out. I was a bad girl, Andrew. Why did you make me? Nagoma. My little wild bird. I must teach you what it is to love. You promised to teach me many wonderful things, Andrew. Yeah. Here. I brought the book, the log of the merry friend. Oh, good. I'll put it in my belt. Ah, yeah. But you were going to teach me from it. There's no time now, Nagoma. Later. Later? When we're at sea on Orion's boat, you'll come with me. Well, you will, won't you? You want me, Andrew? Why, you know I do. And the birds of paradise? Oh, I told you. You're what I came here after. Nagoma! Nagoma! It's Orion. Nagoma! Yeah, he's on the beach there, near his boat. He hasn't seen us. Let's hide, Andrew. Hurry. He's coming this way. Behind that palm there. I'll fix him this time. Not with a shovel, Andrew. No! Quiet, quiet! You'll be quiet. I got him. I've won, Nagoma. You killed him. No, he's dead, but I've got the log. I'll come back and strip this island. I'll take a thousand skins. I'll be rich. There won't be a bird left when I'm through. The log, Andrew. That's what you wanted the log for. It's as good as a map. It's better. It wasn't to teach me wonderful things. What do you need to know? I'm going to be rich. Orion was right. You are only a thief. Not I. I want you too, Nagoma. Me too. Orion wants only me. He cares for none riches. We're wasting time. Let's get to the boat and put the sea before he comes around. No, Andrew. You go. I'm staying here. What? You want the skins more than you want me. You lied about coming here just for me. What differences are made? You better hurry, Andrew. All right, all right. Stay then if that's what you want. Wait. Before you go, kiss me just once. Kiss you? You're an odd girl. Please? All right. But why? Why do you kiss me now, Nagoma? Good now, hurry. Goodbye. Bye. And so on Orion's boat, Andrew Harbin made his escape. All that night, he labored hard to keep from wrecking on the innumerable reefs that seemed to protect every island he passed. And he had no time to think about Nagoma and why she had rejected him with their first kiss and their last. But with the coming of the sun, next morning, he found out. Yes. And in the months that followed, as he sailed here and there over the sea, trying to find his way back to civilization, he had time to ponder on the unbelievable cunning of even the most innocent of women. Andrew Harbin, back at last. I thought you were dead. I very nearly died, Dutchman. Aha. You bring your head at least. And the imperial bird of paradise. Did you find the island? Almost. I almost found it, Dutchman. Almost? I had the island right here in my belt. Longitude and latitude. And a woman embraced me. Embraced me and robbed it back. What are you saying, Harbin? The ship's log. It was as good as a map. But I'd never find the island again now if I had 50 years to look for it. Ah, the sun is bad for white men. It makes fairy tales in the head. Yes. It's time, Dutchman. I'm afraid you're right. Under the direction of Norman McDonnell, Escape has brought you the bird of paradise by John Russell, specially adapted for radio by John Meston, starring John Daener as Andrew Harbin. Featured in the cast were Lawrence Dobkin, Gene Bates, and Ben Wright. Edgar Berrier was the narrator, your announcer, George Walsh. The special music for Escape is composed and conducted by Leith Stevens. Next week. You are kneeling in the church of a Caribbean village. Seeking the sanctuary it might offer. While slowly walking down the aisle, carefully studying each bowed head, is the brute of a man who has come to kill you. So listen next week when Escape brings you less crutch-feel story violent night. Don't look back. Look ahead to tomorrow night when CBS Radio presents another Arthur Godfrey digest. It's the Godfrey gang on nighttime radio over most of these same stations. Taking all their best daytime songs, music and shenanigans and pasting them together in one Friday night scrapbook of smiles and syncopation. The Arthur Godfrey digest. Don't miss it tomorrow night at the Starz Address. Weekday evenings, Bula cooks up comedy on the CBS Radio Network.