 The Clyde Beatty Show! The world's greatest wild animal trainer Clyde Beatty with an exciting adventure from his brilliant career. The circus means thrills, excitement, snarling, jungle beasts. The circus means fun for young folks and old. But under the big top you see only a part of the story. The real drama comes behind the scenes where 500 people live as one family. Where Clyde Beatty constantly risks death in the most dangerous act on earth. This master of the big cats has journeyed to Africa and India hunting down his beasts in their native jungle. All of this is part of the Clyde Beatty story. This is the adventure with the Lion of Kintampo. The port of Takaradi lies sweltering in the equatorial sun of the Gold Coast of Africa. From the deep dark waters of this harbor once sailed the slave traders. Their holds crammed with human cargo and yet Takaradi's legends do not all lie in the dim past. For this very port was the scene of one of the most thrilling adventures of Clyde Beatty. Takaradi, will I ever forget it? I'd gone to the Gold Coast to bring back some lions and it met with real success. There were five of the big cats all crated and ready to be transferred to shipboard. Five handsome specimens of the King of Beasts, but even among these five one stood out. Yes, one was really a king among kings. The Lion of Kintampo as he was called by the native chieftain who sold him to me was the finest two and a half year old I'd ever seen. From the moment I first laid eyes on him, I made up my mind that nothing must stop me from getting him safely to America. But little did I dream what lay in store for me and for the Lion of Kintampo in the old port of Takaradi. We return to the Clyde Beatty show in just a moment and now back to Clyde Beatty. Luck seemed to be against me from the first there in the old port of Takaradi. The ship that was to carry me, my wife Harriet and our cargo was three days late putting in. Three days of sticky fly-ridden heat that sapped the energies and prayed the nerves of man and beast alike. Then at last came the night before we were to sail. Harriet and I stood talking in the warehouse where I kept the crated lion. The Lion of Kintampo, just look at him. Yeah. Decided yet what you're going to call him Clyde? No Harriet, nothing seems to fit. I want a name that's different, distinctive, as distinctive as this fellow is. Look Harriet, you'd better go back to the hotel now. The flashlight's annoying his majesty and if he keeps this up much longer, he'll have the others on edge. All right, but I wish you'd change your mind. About what? Spending the night here. Why you haven't left your cats in this warehouse since we arrived at Takaradi? No, I won't until we're ready to sail. But it's so stifling here. Back at the hotel is at least an electric fan and you can lock the warehouse securely. Harriet, you've been married to me long enough to know that when my mind is made up. Nobody and nothing is going to bother the cats. If you insist on someone being here, why not Gambaga? He's one native you can trust. Yes, I can trust him to see you safely back to the hotel. So if you'll kindly stick your head out of that door Mrs. Batey and call him. Wonder what? Well, it can't be Gambaga. He's the type that'd wait silently outside if it took till eternity. A thousand partners, Mr. Batey. But I saw a ray of light through the crack in the door and since I hurried to Takaradi especially to see you. See me? But what? Please, if I may step inside, I should be most happy to explain. Yes, come in but I'll have to ask you to make your explanation brief. But of course. Ah, these must be Mrs. Batey. My name is Shelp. How do you do? Uh, not Shelp, the animal dealer. It's the same. I am flattered that the world's foremost train of wild animals should have heard of me. Well, you'd hardly be flattered, Shelp, if I told you what I'd heard. Hmm, we all have our enemies. Yes, even the great Clyde Batey. What do you mean by that? Oh, no offence, Mrs. Batey. I merely repeat what I heard in Kintampo. Oh, when were you there? It seems you yourself left, Mrs. Lyon. You are aware no doubt of the tribe of lion worshippers to whom's Lyon of Kintampo was said, devil god. So that's what you came to tell us. No, Harriet, our visitor is a very practical man. I'm sure he has a very practical reason for being here. An excellent observation, Mr. Batey. Excellent. I came to see if the beast you have created here leaves up to the reports I've heard. Mr. Shelp, you can see that you're beginning to annoy both the lion and me. Now, if you want to see him, come to my circus the next time you're in the States. I like your bluntness, Mr. Batey. Hmm, and so it may not be good business for me to say so. I like this lion very much. Ah, very much indeed. That doesn't interest me in the least. Then I will come right to the point. The decimal point. $2,000. $2,000? You want to buy him? But of course. He's not for sale. Mr. Batey, Africa's full of lions. You can find us. I was just going to point that out to you. But I have been searching for a beast like this one for years. You and I both. Mr. Batey, be sensible. The life of a vile animal trainer has had this enough. Do not make it more so. Are you threatening me? Dear man, why should I threaten? I merely point out that this is bound to be a very unlucky beast. After all, he carries a curse. But you're not afraid of the curse, I take it. Me? I want him merely to sell again. And I already have the customer. $3,000. You evidently didn't hear me. I said he's not... $4,000. You'd pay $4,000 for an animal that hasn't been trained yet? Paid to you at your bank in New York. Well, Mr. Batey, what do you say? What I've said from the first, this lion is not for sale. Now get out of here. So, as you say, my dear Batey, but I would have you know that I am not accustomed to such treatment. You may yet have course to regret it. I sent Harriet off to the hotel under the watchful eye of Gumbaga, the native porter who'd come with us from Kintampo. Then I tried to sleep. But for a long time sleep wouldn't come and the thought of shelter wouldn't go. I was up at dawn, supervising the removal of my crated lines to the wharf where our ship had anchored during the night. In the coolness of early morning and the bustle of activity, I shook off my forebodings of the night before. But soon I had a new worry. Hey there, you at the winches, not so fast. Not so fast, I said, slow up. You see what you did? You let that creek down so hard on the deck you almost smashed it and the lion inside. You're talking to me. I certainly am. Jack Tate don't like being talked to like that. Ask anybody. Well, I don't like the way you've been operating those winches. Oh, you don't, huh? I didn't say anything when you handled the first two crates so recklessly, but now that you've done even worse with the third. You're Batey, huh? Yes, I'm Batey. Yeah, Clyde Batey, the wild animal tamer. I don't tame wild animals, nobody does. I train them. And now you want to train me how to operate the winches, huh? Well, what'd you say if I told you to mind your own business? I'd say that I am minding my own business. Those crates have to be handled delicately. I wouldn't call a 500-pound lion exactly delicate. I wonder what you would call one if you'd smashed his crate and he got out and came at you. Let me worry about that, as for you, Batey. Yes. If you want those oversized kittens or yours loaded aboard so he can move out with a tide, you better scram. All right, Tate, but remember, I'll be watching from the wharf. Clyde. Harriet. What's the idea creeping up behind me like? Clyde, he's here. Huh? Who's here? Shep, the man who threatened you last night. He's been standing off to one side watching you for half an hour. So that's what you've been doing with your time, watching him. I thought you'd turned into a sleepyhead. Another few minutes and I'd have sent Gumbaga after you. Clyde, he's walking toward us. Oh, oh, you mean shout. Well, and how are Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Batey on this suffocating morning? Hardly in the mood for chatter, especially with you, Shelp. Oh, but you have not forgotten what I said last night about such things as it occurs. What makes you so sure? You almost jumped when your wife stepped up behind you. Yes, you, Clyde Batey, celebrated the world over from nerves of steel. If you've spoken your piece, Shelp, I've... But no, I have not. What I came over to say was and this is my final offer, 5,000. 5,000? You really want that lion, don't you? Send it to Sadeel. Shelp, get it through your head once and for all. That animal is not for sale and that's final. You are a stubborn one, eh, Batey? Such a stubborn one. Clyde, I'll be so happy when we've left this port behind us. So will I, Harriet. Oh, look, you're ready to hoist the next craterboard. Oh, good. That fool, he's running those winches even faster than before. Tate, Tate, what do you think you're doing? Oh, and... It's all right, Clyde. The crater didn't break open. Yes, but I'm not going to take any more chances. Wait here. Where are you going? To have a talk with the captain. Well, and if it isn't Mr. Batey, then how is this sweltering heat affecting... Well, something wrong? I'm afraid so, Captain. It's about Tate. Oh? What about me, Batey? Tate, when I want you, I'll send for you. Now, on with you before I... Captain, if you don't mind, I just as soon have Tate stay. Well, all right then. What's the trouble, Mr. Batey? No trouble. The man just don't like the way I handle his precious crates. But did I bust any? Did I hurt his darling lions? You came closer than you may think, Tate. That's why I'm asking the captain to put another man at the winches before we load the last and most important crate. I see. You ain't gonna let him run your ship for you. There's only one man who runs my ship, Tate. And that's me. That's telling him. It's you that needs talent, Tate. Now, listen to me. Mr. Batey here wants me to put another man at the winches temporarily. I go on one better. I'm putting another man there permanently. Oh, yeah, huh? Yeah. Now, Tate, I put up with you for the last time. The steward will give you your pay and passage money back to home port. I don't even want the likes of you aboard my ship. Aye, aye, sir. I was tired of this old tub anyway. Then get a move on you. Sure. But first I got something to say to Mr. Batey. Yes? I'll be seeing you. And I don't mean in a circus. Captain, I'm sorry to have stirred up all this trouble. Oh, forget it, Mr. Batey. He's an honorary customer, that Tate. And I should have given him his papers long ago. As for the handling at the winches, you can put your mind at ease. I already have. Oh, good, good. In fact, he's... I've got a man who will handle that last cry of yours as if it was full of eggs. Well, he doesn't have to be quite that careful. Anyway, come along while I have a talk with him. Be glad to. Captain. Carry him. What is it, Mr. Batey? Smoke pouring out of one of the hatches. The ship is on fire. Pour it on, lads! Pour it on! We've got the whole Atlantic Ocean to put out the fire with. And put it out to we will if it takes every last drop. But no one will ever say that Kim Callahan let one burn up under him as she lay at her moorings. Captain. Yeah, yes, Mr. Batey. What I can see, the fire's pretty well under control now. Yeah, there it is. But I'm taking no chances. You know, and I think what might have happened if your Mrs. Eddon't notice the smoke coming out of that hatch when she did. Yeah, it was a lucky thing, Harry. It came aboard the ship looking for me just then. Lucky's the word, all right. And if ever I find out that it was somebody and not just something that set fire to me, vessel, he'll be sorry he was ever born. Then there is a chance, Captain, that the fire started from natural causes. Well, yes, but do I know what you're thinking? And that was my first thought, too. Tate. Aye, Jack Tate. Yes, Harriet, and I've been right here on the wharf for some time. Why did you dash off and come here? Well, it suddenly struck me that the fire itself might have been a decoy to distract attention from something else. Oh. So I made a beeline for that crate holding the Lion of Quintompo. Oh. Oh, put everything, all right. So far as I can see. It'll last the signal to hoist the remaining crate on board. Well, there it goes. Just think, Clyde, in another hour we'll be at sea. Harriet, what? The sling, the sling attached to the crate. Most of the strands have been cut. It's giving way. Look out! He's loose! The Lion of Quintompo is loose! We continue with this exciting story after this message. And now to resume Clyde Bailey's adventure, the Lion of Quintompo. More than once in my years as a trainer, I had seen a wild animal break loose. But always before, there had been some means of confining the killer to a limited area. But the Lion of Quintompo that morning on the docks of Old Takaradi was really on the loose. He stood now among the splinters of his fallen crate, tossing his luxurious mane as though partially stunned. In front and behind and around him were only those strange two-legged creatures known as humans, most of them shocked into immobility. As long as they remained immobile, things might be all right. I had seconds, only seconds in which to make my plans. Clyde, the town... Yes Harriet, that's our principal danger. If the Lion got loose inside the town... He's got to be cut off at the customs gate. Right. Take up your stand, grab something, drive him back in case he appears, and stay there until he's captured. Yes, Clyde. Move slowly, Harriet, and take care of yourself. You too, Clyde. I grabbed up the nearest object that could serve me as a weapon, a piece of the splintered crate. Half a minute had passed, but I knew that my time for taking action was running out. The Lion's head had cleared completely now. I started toward him waving my makeshift club intent on holding his attention, and all the time I was cautioning the others. Listen everybody. Keep standing right where you are. Whatever you do, don't break and run. You're all safe unless you make him turn his attention to you. Give me time, and I'll coax him to the deserted part of the wharf. He's about to come after me. It's working. Keep your heads, everybody. Keep your heads. It was Tate who screamed. He turned and ran, and after him, like a sinewy streak of lightning, went the Lion. With the swipe of a paw, the Lion knocked him sprawling, but the animal's lunge had carried him 15 feet beyond his intended prey. It gave me the last possible chance of saving Tate. Luckily, I'd put on my holster that morning. The pistol contained only blanks, but maybe they could do the trick. Maybe the Lion had whirled and was about to spring again. It worked. The Lion of Quintompo forgot about the fallen man who was hatred to the blazing pistol and me. I was live bait, moving backwards, ever backwards, luring the Lion onto the deserted part of the wharf. My safety depended on sidestepping when he lunged at me. Not entirely, Captain. I've got him cornered, but only temporarily. Any moment, he'll hurdle that pile of lumber and boxes and come after me. Don't I know that? And that's why I brought this. A gun. With rare bullets. I'll take it, Captain, but I hope I don't have to use it. You've got to use it, man. For your safety and the safety of all concerned. You ought to see what that Lion did to Tate with one swipe of a paw. How is Tate? The rascal'll live. But if you ask me, he'll always have a game on. That's why... Look, Captain, my first thought is to keep that animal from hurting anyone else. But if I shoot an only wounded, it'll be a real nightmare. Besides, I think I've hit on a way of capturing him alive without harm to anybody. And how's that? The warehouse that I was using is empty. I'm gonna try to maneuver him inside there. He'll take a heap of maneuver. Sure it will. But I got him here, didn't I? Well... Give me a chance and I'll give you my word that if anything goes wrong, I'll use the gun. Okay, baby. Anything you want me to do? Yes, Captain. Clear everybody out between here and the warehouse and see that the door of the warehouse is open. He got you. Anything else? Yes, hurry. Here he comes again. It was almost a mile to the warehouse and every foot of the way was marked with danger. Every time the Lion of Quintampo lunged and missed, he became all the more infuriated, all the more determined to get me. But finally, finally it was over and I found myself slamming and padlocking the door of the warehouse. Lady, I never thought anyone could do it. Even you. Oh, my hand on it, man. Thanks, Captain. There was more than one time, though, and I didn't think I could do it myself. Oh, did you now? But you know something? I can't figure out what you're gonna do with the beast now that you've got him in the blinkin' warehouse. I, myself, have been wondering about that little thing, Betty. Have you, Shelf? I've been wondering about something else. Indeed. In wondering who it was that cut through most of the strands on the sling of the crate? Uh, you really mean it was done deliberately? Well, I cannot say that it surprises me. I didn't think it would. As I've told you all along, Betty, you have enemies. There's a seamen Tate amongst them. Oh, Tate keeps babbling that he didn't do it? Naturally. But the point is, my dear Betty, you could have avoided all this, and been $5,000 richer if you had not been so stupidly stubborn. Listen, Shelf. Why don't you go inside and get your lion, Betty? You and your cheap heroics. You do not feel so brave at this moment, do you, Betty? Shelf, do you still want the lion of Quintampo? What kind of a question is this? It's a straight question. You mean, Betty, you've decided to sell him after all? Not sell him, give him away. See, I knew you were merely talking nonsense. Captain is my witness, Shelf, and no man has ever accused me of going back on my word. There's only one condition to your getting that lion. Aha! Now it comes. I'm going to get a cage and put it up against the open door. Then the lion can be driven out of the warehouse and right into the cage. So? Just this. You go in there with the tools of the animal trainer's trade, a pistol loaded with blanks, a four-legged stool and a whip, and drive him out, and he's all yours, free of charge. Well, Shelf, I... You think Johannes Shelf is an idiot? He is your lion, Betty. Let him crunch your bones. Good day. I've got here for mine to crunch his bones myself, also free of charge. Never mind, Captain. By the way, here's your gun. Oh, here it is. Clyde! Oh, Clyde! Hello, Harriet. Gumbarger brought me the news. You have no idea what a strain it's been. I was frantic guarding the customer's gate all this time. Anyway, it's over. And as soon as we get an open cage up against the door, I'll go in and drive him out. Clyde, you mean we'll drive him out? You and I? No, Harriet. I'm going in there alone. Well, Mr. Beatty, everything seems to be all set now, eh? All set for you to go into the warehouse after you're lying. Yes, Captain. I've even stationed Gumbarger at the side door of the building, just in case. Well, here goes... Wait, Clyde! What is it, Harriet? Clyde, we've been together in all sorts of danger. It's out of the question, Mrs. Beatty. Be saying, you... My first hazard inside the warehouse was an optical one, getting my eyes accustomed to the darkness. Once that was accomplished, I moved slowly, stealthily ahead. The moment of greatest danger I knew would be when the lion of Quintompo and I first met. If he got the jump on me, all I had was my pistol of blanks, a four-legged stool, and a whip to defend myself. A big cat weighing 500 pounds can move as stealthily as a kitten weighing ounces. Was he stalking me? Was he poised even now, poised to spring at me from behind? I explored the entire bottom floor, but nothing happened. There was an upstairs loft toward the back of the building, and that's where he had to be. I'd have to climb up there after him, and the stairway was steep. If I met him there, if he came hurtling at me, then I was finished. But at last, I was up. Now, the lion and I were together in the loft. It was then it happened. Down below, the side door suddenly swung open, and Gumbaga the native stood revealed in a shaft of light. Gumbaga, what are you doing? Slam that door! Get out! Get out, Gumbaga! The next moment, the lion had sprung past me, flashing toward the figure standing in the shaft of light. Gumbaga didn't move, didn't flinch until the beast was upon him, and then it was too late. Take a last look, Harriet. Another minute, and the lights of the old port of Takarati will be only a memory. Just as the day's events are only a memory now. The day's events? To think, Clyde, it was Gumbaga who cut the sling. Yes, Harriet, if only we'd known that Gumbaga was a member of the tribe that worshipped the Lion of Kintompo as its devil god. Poor Gumbaga, dead, and his sacred lion safe in the whole of this ship. You know, I can't help thinking that if that big cat hadn't been so interested in his victim, I might never have been able to drive him into the cage. Yes, I'll never forget how that animal... Harriet! I just thought of something. A name, a perfect name for this Lord of Lions. Yes, we'll call him Devil God. We return to Clyde Vity in a moment. Our next episode is called Noah's Ark. Here is just a portion of the adventure that occurred in the prairie land of the Southwest. I was about two-thirds through my act when the storm broke. I could hear the loosened poles of the tent structure bobbing up and down, an unmistakable sign that a heavy gale was blowing outside. Suddenly there was a terrific clap of thunder. Lucky you were near the safety cage, Clyde. That thunder's got the cat scared to death. Yeah, the thunder storm will make him even harder to handle. Clyde, look! They're beginning to fight and claw each other. I'll get them straightened out. Oh, don't go in, Clyde. Please, let them fight it out. I have to go back in, Harriet. Hank, keep loading revolvers with blanks. I'm gonna need them. Nothing disturbs me like the thought of thunder and lightning catching up with me when I'm in the ring with my lions and tigers. And that's just what happens in our next story, Noah's Ark. This story was based on incidents in the life of Clyde Vity and the Clyde Vity Circus. The Clyde Vity show was produced by Shirley Thomas. The Lion of Contompo was written by Maurice Zim. All names used were fictional, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a Commodore production.