 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 Contraband. Unlike other continents, Africa is poor in islands. With over 16,000 miles of coastline, it has only a half dozen islands large enough to earn a place on the map. And thus even a small coral islet like San Lorenca, which is too small to appear in atlases and geography books, has great military importance. The woman knew its importance. The woman who stood in the public square of San Lorenca's capital, her dark eyes flashing, her flowing hair tossing, her slim body swaying hypnotically as she incited the natives to rise. Why should you work in the fields all day? Why should you slay for the Europeans from one year then to the next? Why should you grovel beneath the foreigners' heels? Are you not foreign at all? I am one of you. Why rather than ours? The blood of many races flows in my veins. It is true my skin is whiter, but my heart belongs only with the people of San Lorenca. You will not talk like the rest of us down. My speech has been changed by schooling in distant lands, but my education shall be a weapon to free you from the bounds of slavery. We shall kill every... We will take over the wars and the warehouses, the governmental buildings, the hospitals. We shall free the prisoners. We shall free... We began the bloody revolution of San Lorenca. Despite the fanatical zeal of Ta and her followers, the natives were not able to take over the government in one quick stroke. Instead, the war continued for many months growing in savagery and intensity with each day. Even the governmental police from the mainland seemed powerless to stop it. After a raid that resulted in the death of more than a dozen of the police, Captain Lawrence was detached from his unit for a special mission. It took him to the mainland along the jungle coast into a crude cabin that stood in a small clearing. I say there, are you at home, Tarzan? It would be my luck to travel all this distance. I don't believe he's home. Tarzan, you just took three years of my life. You have to sneak up on a man like a panther stalking its prey. I did not mean to frighten you, but I caught the scent of man a few moments ago and I decided to hide in that clump of trees over there until I learned the identity of my caller. Well, I'm glad we're friends. I should hate to be an enemy coming to call on you. You are a friend indeed, Captain Lawrence. Shall we go inside? Oh, thank you. Perhaps I shouldn't be so friendly the last time you made your way to this cabin, it was to arrest me. Well, I'm happy that the charges proved completely groundless. Tarzan, this time I come to appeal for help. The government wants my help? In what way? The people of San Lorenco are in revolt. They've killed close to a hundred Europeans and Englishmen and almost a score of police. You hold no elections there. Perhaps revolution is their only method of changing a government they find unfavorable. The government has long been willing to grant them their freedom, but we feel that the group now leading the revolt would not work for the best interests of the natives or for world peace. What makes you think that? Well, their leader is a woman. She lived in Europe for some years, was educated there. Reputation was most unsavory. And she was the intimate of those who preach world revolution. Although she was born on San Lorenco, her ways are not those of the people, nor are her goals theirs. One seldom knows a woman's aims. What do you think hers are? She has long been the confident of a war profiteer, a despicable character, but the name of Ali Astigar is known that they were in close association before she decided to return home to San Lorenco. But what does that prove? Astigar is in the employ of powers who begin revolutions in many strategic countries. The revolution in San Lorenco started the day after her return. I see. She's gained great power of the natives. They look upon her as some sort of a goddess. Only the influence of someone also looked upon as a deity can overcome her influence. Someone who's looked upon as a deity? Surely you do not think I hold a position of a god. The lord of the jungle? It is more than a title of respect does. Even on the island your name is enough to make a native think twice before joining Taa and her followers. Taa? That is the woman's name? Well, she has used many aliases in the past. I don't know where she got this one. Taa is a native word. It means lamp. A lamp, eh? A lamp that leads the natives to death and destruction. And Tarzan, only you can stem this tide of killing. In just a moment we shall return to our story of Tarzan. The equatorial rain had come quickly and rivulets of water ran down the faces of Tarzan and Captain Lawrence as they broke through dense jungle growth on their way to Lagos, disembarking point for San Lorenco. Scene of the bloodiest revolution of modern times. If this rain keeps up they can sail the steamer right into the jungle to pick us up. I think it will stop before morning. And I hope so. Every day's delay means more deaths on the island. If only we knew where the natives were getting their guns and ammunition. Guns and ammunition? You didn't mention that before. I assumed they were using knives and spears and other native weapons. No, it's guns this time. I told you they were outside influences at work. For the first time I'm really convinced. Could you travel faster, Captain Lawrence? No, I can't take this moist heat the way you can, Tarzan. Perhaps we'd better rest until morning and dislike traveling in this strong rain anyway. You? I thought you were impervious to the elements. It's difficult to catch the scent of any enemy with the wind and the rain beating down. Any enemy who ventured out on a night like this? Up to the ground. Someone's firing at us. Tarzan, you better get down too. Until I find out who's trying to kill us. As Tarzan sped in the direction from which the bullets had come, a dark figure leaped from behind a protecting rock and fled into the night. After giving his footsteps great speed. Still he was no match for Tarzan. And as the Lord of the jungle gained on him, he turned to fire. He raised his gun to his shoulder, leveled the barrels straight at Tarzan's chest, curled his finger around the trigger and fired. At almost the exact moment Tarzan took a diving tackle at his assailant's legs. The shot went wild, the gun dropped, and the two rolled over and over in savage battle. Yeah, yeah. No, no, no break on. Stop struggling, man. Please stop. Not break on. Put your hands behind you and stand up. I see, Tarzan. Are you all right? Yes, Captain Lawrence. Would you mind picking up that gun over there while I tie the hands of our friend here? Not tie your hands. Me not make more trouble. Go ahead and tie his hands, Tarzan. You can't afford taking another chance. And at least it looks as though the rain's letting you up a bit. Why did you attempt to kill us? Not try to kill you. Only try to kill enemy people of San Lorenca. Captain Lawrence, for how long? Since day he leave Ireland. Only me lose trail three times. Not find him till tonight. Recognize the neck, though? Let me see it. The stock's ornamented with scroll working silver. Yes, I noticed it. Now there are strings designed. Beautiful, though. Captain Lawrence, did you see any guns of this type in the battles on San Lorenca? We didn't capture any of their arms. Say, is this needed from San Lorenca? Why are you? Not tell anything. The gun does his talking for him in more ways than one. This gun comes from somewhere near Tunis. It was transported across the Libyan desert and then brought through the jungle to the coast. Along with others for the rebels of San Lorenca? Exactly. How can you know all that by looking at the gun? The ornamentation on the stock could have been made only by a Berber. Probably one near Tunis, since otherwise the guns for San Lorenca would not have been transported across the desert. We not bring guns across deserts. You lie. No amount of cleaning and polishing can ever remove the fine desert sand from the seam between the metal and the wood. Yes, a Berber made the gun, probably under the guidance of a war-like Bedouin who also possessed knowledge of transporting arms across the grueling desert of Libya. You're amazing, Tarzan. And I guess we'd better be getting along. What do you think we should do with our prisoner here? Keep him bound. Or take him with you. You may need a hostage to protect your life. You speakers, though, you aren't going to be with me. Thank you. First I must find out where the guns and ammunition originate. Yes. If we could cut off the supply of arms, the revolution wouldn't last long. Exactly. And I have more confidence in myself as a detective than as a deity. It was a long and a difficult trip to the land of the Berbers, and the task of narrowing down the silversmith who had worked on the guns was even more difficult than the trip. But Tarzan's years of jungle training had taught him to ignore a hundred other tiny clues, finally led him to a silver shop in a small native town near Tunis. Greetings to the man of the jungle. My greetings to you, silversmith. I always admire a fine craftsman, and I hear you are most skilled in your trade. I do my humble best. Would you have me fashion an armlet for thee? Or perhaps a filigree pendant to give as a gift to the light of your life? No, I had hoped that perhaps you could adorn a gun with the rich product of your craft. A gun? Silver ornamentation upon a gun. Have you never done such work? By you, I have never heard of such a practice. Have you the gun you wished adorned with you? I thought perhaps you could supply it. I would pay well. In my store and in the simple workshop behind it, there is ought but a few scraps of silver and gold with which to make baubles. I am not a gunsmith. Your shop looks exceedingly empty of baubles as well as of guns. My poor stock of merchandise with the large baubles outside your shop. Someone purchased your entire stock? Yes, that is it. A buyer from one of the great marts of the world so admired my work that he bought everything I had. He has prepared it for Shipman. He must prize it highly. The baubles are well padded on the outside. Were you examining that which did not concern you? I looked only so I might determine whether the Shipman was destined for the desert. You see, I am an experienced guide and were you a purchaser desirous of crossing the desert in order to reach the sea? I might be of service. Wait here. My poor memory just recalls some silver I left upon my stove in the workshop. I shouldn't want you to neglect your work on my account. I shall return immediately, effendi. Do not go away. I have no intention of leaving. Your reputation is so great. Ali, Ali Astigar, there is an Israeli within my shop who asks strange questions. About my bales of merchandise perhaps? Yes, he entered the shop and started inquiring about... a slight scar upon his forehead and dresses like a jungle native. It has the skin of a white man. Truly, Ali Astigar, you have the wisdom of a thousand men. I have the cooperation of a clever woman by the name of Taher. Her native followers are now legion and her spies are everywhere, both on the island of San Lorenca and on the mainland. She told you of this stranger? I have been expecting him. He has offered to act as a guide for your caravan. He is a man of great stature and fearful strength. The stature of a man is unimportant when he lies helpless on the sand. And even a man of great strength finds survival difficult when he is attacked suddenly and left in the desert to die of thirst. In just a moment, we shall learn Tarzan's fate at the hands of the clever Ali Astigar. The glowing sun was reflected on the sand and the heat was oppressive as the caravan slowly went at its way across the parched highway despite the urgings of the Bedouin camel drivers. And at the head of the caravan, astride muscular dramataries, rode Ali Astigar and his guide Tarzan. The sun beats hot upon our heads. I shall welcome the passing of the day. Had you followed my advice, we might have reached the shelter of the jungle by now. I prefer the longer route. This way we shall enter the jungle near Guilfoulan. But there are no trails through the jungle from Guilfoulan. If we will be met by native barers, I can trust. I want no one to know of my shipments. Are the silver ornaments we transport that important? We are not carrying silver ornaments. Surely that does not come as a great surprise to you? No, it doesn't. Particularly since I have found that the man who represented himself as a silversmith is your personal servant. Well, I am surprised to hear you admit that the cargo does not consist of silver. You are a friend to all of Africa's natives. To you, I can confide the real contents of the bails. You are most kind, Alastagar. What do the bails contain? Medicine, bandages, antiseptics and anesthetics for the poor wounded natives of Sangarenka. Medical supplies? There are certain foreign powers who would lead you to believe I transport contraband shipments of ammunition and guns. They have their reasons for giving out this false information. You are most clever. You must have traced one of the two guns I had made. They were given to the natives who guarded the last shipment of medical supplies. But why should Captain Lawrence lie to me about such a matter? Tarzan, he represents a government that is loath to give up its island colony. There are some who would gladly lie to their own parents in order to protect their selfish interests. I have often found man to be deceitful but I was sure I could accept the word of Captain Lawrence. Do you understand the caravan? You would do that? Gladly. In fact, I insist on it so that you may learn to respect the word of Ali Astagar. Shams! Yes, master. Have the caravan stop. Permit Tarzan to open any bail he selects. I could have sworn the bails contained out. The mind accepts what the heart dictates. Mines are often courts that judge before trial. Yes. Give me Ali Astagar and bid the caravan move on. I accept your word. No, no, I shall not let you accept my word. I insist you open a bail. Do it yourself. Be convinced. Come, I shall dismount with you. I feel as though I were causing you much needless trouble. If there is a fault, it lies with me. Go ahead, select a bail. I'll take the nearest one. The one on that dromedary right there. Shams! At least I can be thankful that I have cohorts in Lagos who know that my mission is one of mercy. My shipments are speedy to the island from that point. Here is bail, Saeed. No, I will not cut the rope, Tarzan. We do have to tie it up again before we proceed. It was an instinctive gesture. The clumsy fools turned it with knots on the underside. Shams! I can reach the large knot if I kneel down. Now I can... No! He is quite unconscious. Fasten the bail on the camel's back. And hurry, we must remount and ride as the women. And by the time we enter the jungle, its lord will be quite dead of exposure and thirst. As evening came, Tarzan regained consciousness, got to his feet and staggered in the hopeless direction of the jungle. High overhead, carrion birds hovered expectantly. But neither the birds of prey nor the clever Aliastagar had been able to estimate the size of Tarzan. He seemed to grow stronger instead of weaker with each passing mile. And by dawn the next morning he had reached a small water hole. Within a few days he had crossed the jungle and secured a small boat to reach the Isle of San Lorenca and the bristling fortress now commanded by Captain Lawrence. You've had another miraculous escape, Tarzan. I suffered greatly. Perhaps it was my punishment for having doubted the word of a friend. Astagar speaks with a crafty tongue. Oh, no. There have been no new attacks during the past several days. We can only conclude that they must be out of ammunition. Oh, then perhaps I should be relatively safe as I proceed into the tangled forest surrounding their island stronghold. You intend going into the interior? But you may fall into the hands of Tarzan with her fanatical followers. I shall have to take my chances, even with them. Jumbo, Morocco. Jumbo, you relieve Morocco a centric. You go back camp. Santa, his big war shall be there. Tomorrow we hold a showering capital of wait men. There we... Wrap your gun. Nadio, meet the gun. What? You're the same native who made an attempt on our lives in the jungle. But I thought Captain Lawrence still held you prisoner. You escaped? Captain Lawrence say, be free, go home, it's not crime lie, kill oppressor. Oppressors? Oh, believe me, you have been misled. Not misled, it's true. Do you not accept the word of Tarzan, Lord of the Jungle? Believe only word of Tar, Tar, lamp who guides to freedom. And you? Do you believe all that this woman tells your people? Tar speak true, for her we kill. And nothing I can say will change you. Tarzan not leader now. Do you understand her spell? Come, I take Tarzan to Tar. Fine. Who wants to speak with Tar? You are Tarzan. Yes, and you are Tar, the lamp which beckons the people to destruction. If I lead them to victory, today fresh ammunition and many guns have been received, and tomorrow we attack the fortress in the capital, and under the new government, you will no longer be Lord of the Jungle Tarzan. People of San Lorenca, for a greater oppression than any you have yet known, is fooled by this woman, a liar and a cheat by the name of Ali Astegar, and the corrupt government they represent. Enough! In surviving the desert, he has proven his reputation. You will not be able to shoot him down from the trees. People of San Lorenca, the fortress and the capital tomorrow, misfortune will fall upon you. That man there, who just slipped from a hut like a worm from beneath a rock, Tarzan did not return to the fortress immediately. Instead, he hovered in the vicinity of the war camp, observing much and taking particular interest in the departure of Ali Astegar and his bearers. Someday, he would settle the score with Astegar, but at the moment a greater task was at hand. Toward dawn, he returned to the fortress, and he stood at Captain Lawrence's side as the big attack began. Well, there's certainly a slew of them out there. The rain isn't so good. Have you suffered any casualties at all? Not yet. I'm going to attack. Once that horde of natives charges the fort, I fear for the outcome. What in the world was that? They have no guns large enough to create an explosion that loud? I think I know what caused that explosion, and I know now that the natives will not attack. Not attack? But you can see them messing for the events that blow now. I shall dissuade them. Tell your men to guard their shots so that they do not hit me in the confusion. They walk across the clearing and into the midst of the enemy. But Tarzan did walk across the clearing and straight into the troops of the natives, and as he did, a strange thing happened. Small cannons exploded, breaking into a thousand pieces, native guns disintegrated in the hands of those who attempted to fire them, bullets failed to explode at all, rifle levers jammed, cartridges refused to fit into the guns for which they were intended, and despite the urgings of Tar, the natives threw up their arms and confused surrender. No, until death must you fight. Captain Lawrence, have your men take the woman prisoner. No, no, you won't take me. No, no, no. There you are. A nice shiny pair of handcuffs to wear. Take her over there. You'd best save your tears for the people you have misled. Tarzan, I just want something and I still don't believe it. What in the name of heaven happened? The people of San Lorenca were betrayed by Azteca, a man who double crossed everyone on a small island. He sent Tar here to incite the rebellion. He got a foreign power to pay for the arms he delivered and he reaped a double profit by purchasing defective guns and ammunition. But when did you learn of all this? Some of these things I learned last night as I threaded my way through the camp and some of the things I learned by long association with those who know no loyalty except to their own purses. I think from now on, the loyalties of the people of San Lorenca will be with those who have proven themselves, friends. In just a moment, a word about our next story of Tarzan. Stanley reported the strange lake in his book, In Darkest Africa, which was published in 1890. And yet even today, little has really been learned about the small body of water whose shores are strewn with dead butterflies in whose dark red waters fish cannot live and which is taboo to the natives of the Congo. They call it Kiwanavisi, Lake of Blood. Tarzan, the creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs, is produced and transcribed by Walter White Jr., prepared for radio by Bud Lesser, with original music by Albert Glasser. This is a Commodore production. Listen in next week to Lake of Blood, another thrilling episode of The Lord of the Jungle.