 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 Tarzan and the coward. One might have searched far and wide before finding a more complete antithesis of Tarzan's jungle than the New York penthouse of stockbroker William Dudley Pembler. And yet the paths of those who occupied the Park Avenue apartment were destined to cross that of the Lord of the Jungle. Already as Pembler's nephew Harry toyed with the high ball in his hand and watched his visitor nervously, fate was designing the blueprints for the meeting. I asked you not to come here, Scorotti. Afraid your uncle will find out you keep bad company? No, no, it's not that. It's just that... See here, Scorotti, I'll get the money for you. You said that three weeks ago. The old birds so fond of you, why don't you make them come across? She doesn't approve of gambling. And I have no other way of explaining why I need $30,000. But give me two months and I'll walk right into your office with the money. Yeah, they're sure. Look, my uncle and I are going on a hunting trip to Africa and when I get back I'll have plenty of dough. I'll come. I... I overheard him talking to his lawyer on the phone last night. He told him something about changing his will and later I heard him spell my name out. And so on this little hunting trip you'll see that his death comes a little sooner than he expects, huh? You don't have to answer that. I know you're a type. Only how do I know you won't decide to stay over there and well shun your debt? No, no, really I won't. Of course there's one thing I could do about it. I might decide to come along. No, you can't do that in the first place. There must be my uncle now. You'll have to get out of here. I'll think of something. There's nothing to think about. Do I come along or do Uncle and I have a little talk right now? You... you come along. Only don't say anything about it. Good evening, Uncle. Hello, Harry. This is Mr. Smith. He is a big game expert. He wants to go along with us on our trip. Well, I think there might be room for one or two more. I'll talk it over with Mr. Pembler tonight. Mr. Smith, I'll call you in the morning. Okay. Well, happy to know you, Smith. Perhaps we'll be seeing each other. Could be. I'll show you to the door. I can find it. Market closed strong today, Uncle. Pretty fair. Say, if you want this fellow Smith along, Harry, it's all right with me. Thank you, sir. Forget the sir, Harry. And forget the uncle business, too. If we're going to be buddies on this big game hunt, it'll have to be strictly Harry and Bill. Well, that's swell with me, Bill. It might interest you to know, Harry, that I took care of something with my lawyer today. Oh, what was that? I signed a new will. You're now administrator of my estate. Administrator? It'll pay you a small fee every month, and if by any chance you outlive Billy, you'll come into the whole estate. But the important thing is that I'll have someone I feel close to managing things. You know, Harry, I feel closer to you than I do to my own son. Oh, come on, now. Well, it's true. I suppose it sounds strange to hear a father talk this way, but I'm ashamed of Billy, even that name. I was never called Billy in my whole life. It does fit him, though. I guess that's what his mother always called him. Well, I don't want to say anything against Helen, rest her soul, but she did molly-cattle the boy. Well, I suppose it was natural and only child. That's no excuse. I was an only child, and I was always small from my age, but there wasn't a kid in the neighborhood I was afraid of. I took him all on. I was captain of my high school football team. I used to box fellows that outweighed me by 30 pounds, and I used to go duck hunting when it was 10 below zero. You haven't been hunting until you've hunted in Africa. That's what I mean, Harry. You're not a whole lot older than Billy, but you've been everywhere and you've done things. Haunted in Africa, learned how to fly a plane, all that stuff. You've got courage and... Well, let's face it, Billy's a coward. Oh, I wouldn't say that. It's true. I finally bullied him into trying out for his high school football team this afternoon, but I know he won't make it. One scrimmage was probably enough for him. You in the study, Dad? Yes, come on in, Billy. Hi, Kaz. I don't see any black eyes. Maybe the bruises are where they don't show, huh, Billy? How do you do with the football dryouts? I didn't report to the field, Dad. Gee, I can't help it if I'm not interested in football and stuff like that. No, you're not interested in anything except music and art and the debating society. I wish I knew some way to make you more like Harry here, Bill. How about taking Billy along with us to Africa? I don't think I'd like that, Harry. He didn't ask you. He asked me. And I think it's a swell idea. But I wouldn't want to fire guns and kill animals. The more I think about it, the better I like it. Maybe it'll make a man out of you. That's the angle, Bill. As the expression goes, it'll either cure him or kill him. In just a moment, we shall return to our story. For some time Tarzan had remained alone except for the company of wild beasts and once again he longed for the companionship of humans. His path led him in the direction of the camp of the Punya tribe. For there he would see Torgoh, the small native boy who was almost like a son to him. Suddenly he stopped short. Before him on the ground was Wapi, the antelope, a small arrow through its heart. Tarzan glanced at the feather-tipped shaft in anger and then he hastened his footsteps until he reached the Punya village. Torgoh? Torgoh! Torgoh, not here, Tarzan. Go with mother to hunt diruts. It is well for him, Pandego, for I am full of anger against him. Tarzan angry against Torgoh? Why? I have considered him like a son and yet he disregards my lessons. Just south of here I saw Wapi, the antelope on the ground, dead. He had Torgoh's arrow in him. Tarzan has taught Torgoh to be good shooter of arrows. I taught him so that he could kill for food or in self-defense. Not so that he could destroy lives wantonly. Torgoh, good boy. I cannot agree that he is a good boy. I shall have to find a new son. Tarzan's disappointment in Torgoh did not lessen his desire for human companionship. Someday he would find a boy whom he could raise with his own feeling for the other denizens of the jungle. Sound of rifle fire brought his thoughts to an abrupt ending. He took to the upper level of jungle growth and in a matter of minutes he was directly over the hunting party from New York. He crouched in the fork of a tree, listening so that he could determine the nature of these strangers. Next time I'll get the first shot in. None of this waiting for Billy to try his hand. Can't say that I blame you for being sore, Harry. By the time we raised our guns, the critters were out of range. Why didn't you fire Billy? Those trees, they were in the way. That's a lot of hoaxing. You had a perfect shot. You see, Billy, even Mr. Smith is ashamed of you. It's no use, Dad. I just can't kill animals. You'll learn before we leave the jungle. There are many better things to learn. Hey, where'd you come from? Gee, you jumped right down from the trees, didn't you? Hey, put that gun down, Harry. He's probably got his whole tribe with him. I'm alone. But it's while you lower your thunder stick, I am Tarzan, lord of the jungle. What do you want, Tarzan? Well, right to come to your city, you might well ask me that question. But since you've come to my land, the question is mine. What do you want? We're just on a little hunting trip, Tarzan. We mean no harm to you or anyone else. That is well. How old are you, boy? Me? I'm sixteen, almost. You do not like to kill animals? No, I don't. Do you like it here in Tarzan's jungle? I like the forest, the wonderful birds and the flowers. He likes the flowers and the buds. Ain't that something for a kid? He'll learn, or he isn't any son of mine. Before we leave here, he'll bag his share of animals. I wouldn't be surprised to see him knock off an elephant or a rhino. You are the boy's father, and you encourage him to kill? It's none of your business, Tarzan. But it so happens that the reason we brought Billy on this expedition was to cure him of being a coward. Dad, why do you always keep saying that? You seem to have chosen the wrong son, Tarmungani. Or else he has chosen the wrong father. I don't like the idea that guy Tarzan hanging around a camp. He's not hanging around. He told Bill off, and then he disappeared in the trees. He hasn't left? I saw him in the distance just after dinner. Okay, so he's around. What difference does it make? What difference does it make? The natives are bad enough. You want a white man walking into some court in Nairobi or a membosa to tell you how you knocked off your uncle and your young cousin in order to get their money? No one's going to see me when I do it. Maybe you'll figure on backing out. If you're taking it long enough, you better get going as soon. I'll do it. Only I'm picking my time carefully. One of these days I'll find Bill when no one else is around. How about the kid? Billy? I don't even think we'll have to do anything about him. The way he keeps wandering away from camp, nature may give us a helping hand. What do you mean? Did you hear a leopard in the distance a little while ago? Yeah, but I've heard lots of leopards doing the last few weeks. Sure, but they sound different when they're hungry. That means they're stalking a kill. And when I last saw Billy, he was walking in the direction of that leopard. Almost a mile from the camp, Billy walked aimlessly, his head down, tears streaking his face. He broke off a slender shaft of bamboo and used it as a whip against the sides of his boots. Occasionally he saw a loose rock and kicked it along until it lost itself in the dense underbrush. His mind was busy and he had no suspicion that Cheetah, the leopard, was close at hand. The stealthy animal glided along the ground, his body a low, narrow shaft of death. The boy paused to examine a strange jungle orchid and Cheetah crouched lower, then sprang. A pluris lethal talons could rip into the boy, a huge figure hurtle from an overhanging vine, and Tarzan's knife gleamed in the moonlight as it flashed down with it. Tarzan, watch out, he's wriggling free. Hey, you won't get away! Oh, there! You killed him. What are you doing? That was the victory cry of the bull ape. When I was a baby, an ape by the name of Kayla took me from my cradle to take the place of her own baby who had died. I was raised by Kayla, and much I do is because of the things she taught me. That's how it is with me. My dad just doesn't understand. But my mother was against fighting and hunting and that sort of thing. She taught me to love the beautiful things in life. Of course, if you walk in the jungle alone at night, you'll not live long enough to enjoy the beautiful things of life. I don't care whether I live or not. My father thinks I'm a coward. Are you? I don't know. I don't like fighting. Well, that doesn't make you a coward. I dislike fighting, but I do fight when it is necessary to protect myself or to save the life of a friend. I didn't thank you for saving my life. Oh, words are not necessary, particularly when I saved only that for which you care so little. Maybe I didn't exactly mean that. No, Tarzan knows what you mean. You would like life if those around you were kinder to you. Well, there's something you could do about that. You could find new friends and new father. Perhaps you could come to Tarzan's home as his son. I couldn't do that. I can't leave now. My dad's in danger. In danger? My cousin, Harry, and the man he calls Smith intend to kill my father and then me. What? I overheard them talking one night. They didn't know I was listening. It was late. Harry called Smith by a different name. And he told him he'd pay him some money he owed him as soon as they killed dad and me. Did your father do this? No. He would have said I made it up because I don't like Harry and was afraid. Are you afraid? Yes. The admission is a sign of courage. Billy, I shall return to your camp with you. Before your cousin Harry and Smith can kill your father and you, they shall have to kill Tarzan first. That's dad there standing by the fire. I guess he couldn't sleep. Let's not say anything to him about what you overheard or why I've come to stay in your camp. Dad will be glad to have you, but Harry's... Shh, quiet, quiet. Harry, he's sneaking out of his tent. He has his rifle with him. Look, he's pointing at dad's back. Stay here. What happened? Harry, Tarzan. I knocked his gun out of his hand before he had a chance to shoot you in the back. Shoot me in the back? Harry? You crazy meddling fool. I saw a lion just beyond Bill. I didn't want to alarm him. I thought it might spring if he moved. I did not catch the scent of Newman the lion. Where did the animal go? I guess it ran off. I guess it's time for me to turn in. I'm sure you meant well, Tarzan, but Harry certainly had no intention of shooting at me. Are you all right, dad? Billy, I thought you were asleep hours ago. I was, uh... I was talking to Tarzan. He'd like to join our party. I could be most helpful as a guide, Mr. Pembley. Good. Name your price and I shall be happy to meet it. It's easy to see that you know this jungle. How can you trust a white man who lives in a jungle like some black savage? He might be very useful. How do you make that out? You said something a while back about a court in Nairobi or Mambosa. I think maybe I'll visit one of those courts when I leave the jungle. I can report in great sadness that my beloved uncle and my darling little cousin had been murdered by Tarzan. Back to Tarzan and the coward in just a moment. So Tarzan remained with the Pembley hunting party. Bill Pembley looked upon the jungle giant with frank admiration, Billy with open adoration, and the other two men with thinly veiled hatred. If you know so much about this district, Tarzan, why don't you scare up some big game for us? How about some of them rhinoceroses? I shall scout the countryside. They usually remain in the colder climates north of here, but perhaps I can find an isolated herd. Come, Billy. We'll see if we can locate some targets for your bloodthirsty friends. Is it okay to go with Tarzan, Dad? Sure. Maybe he can teach you a little bravery. We will change that, Billy. We have two things to do now. Protect your father and change his opinion of you. Do you think it's safe to go off and leave him with those two? They're not alone. Last night while the camp slept, I visited the crawl of my friends, the puñas. No less than a dozen puña warriors watch out for your father at all times now. Gee, you're wonderful, Tarzan. It's good for you to think that. A son should admire his father, and a father is son. Perhaps, Billy, you may decide to remain in the jungle. Where are we going now, to look for rhinos? End of your time. First, I shall show you my jungle, or at least a little part of it. I shall lead you over the upper level of jungle growth where the apes travel. I shall instruct you in the art of the bow and arrow. And I shall show you the hidden lagoon where I swim. You like to swim, Billy? I've always been afraid of swimming. Well, with Tarzan, you'll not be afraid. That's enough, Billy. Cue to the sun sinks in the heaven. One more dive. All right, one more dive. To the bottom that time. Come on, up you go. Here, I'll give you a hand. Thanks. Are there really pearls in the bottom of the lagoon, Tarzan? No, not really. I first made up that story when I was persuading a little native boy to dive. Come, we better get into our clothes. It is getting chilly. The sun goes down quickly in the jungle. That's because we're near the equator. Here there's little dawn or dusk. Billy? Have you been near my clothes? Near your clothes? No. My knife has been removed from its sheath. Tarzan and Billy dressed quickly and headed back for the camp. Tarzan's mind dwelled on the loss of his knife. It had little intrinsic value even in the jungle. Its theft could mean only one thing. Someone intended to commit murder with a weapon and blame Tarzan for the crime. When the camp retired that night, Tarzan took up a vigil near the tent of Bill Pember. What he had anticipated came to pass. Harry crept from his tent and approached that of his uncle. Tarzan's knife glistened in Harry's hand. He was about to enter the tent when his upraised arm was grasped in a grip of steel. Savage! Yes, I am a savage. And you represent the civilized man, huh? Perhaps savagery is best. I'll show you. I would not advise attacking me. That would not be courage. It would be suicide. Look, I can explain this. You may save your explanation. I'm sure you heard a lion about to went to the camp and you were on your way to kill him with my knife. I found the knife. I know you did. And its sheath. That was courageous of you to steal it. Well, you shall have your chance to prove your courage. Tomorrow I shall lead you to the Tarbuta, the white rhinoceros. The most ferocious of its kind. Are you awake, Scoratti? I am awake. Only a better remember that my name's Smith. What time is it? It's early. But we'll be breaking camps soon to find the rhinos and I want to talk to you. What about? About Tarzan. He's getting wise. Has he sent anything to your uncle? No, I don't think so. But we can't risk having him around much longer. Now, I have a plan. Oh, you and your plans. This one ought to work. Go on. When and if we spot the rhinos, I'll go ahead. I'll get Bill to stick with me and I'll make sure he lands on the path of one of those man killers. So? Tarzan will come running up. That's where you come in. You'll be hanging back and you'll have your telescopic sight trained on him. With those two dead, we can take care of the kid. Maybe you got something there. Maybe you got something. We've about reached our destination. The white rhinos are near here. I don't see nothing. Do you see this bed of dry dust? Looks like fine sand to me. It is alkali. The white rhinoceros isn't really white at all. He's just a little lighter in color than the black rhino. But he loves to roll in this dust when he comes from the water. And the alkali dust makes him look white? That's right. When it hardens, it looks almost pure white in some lights. Okay, that's enough of the nature study lecture. Let's get going. I think that's very interesting, Mr. Smith. Let's not be impatient. I'm impatient too, Bill. Let's find him. It's best to wait until we locate the herd by the oxpeckers. Now, what kind of a fable are we gonna hear? I hesitate to give you another lecture, but the oxpeckers or rhino birds are the surest omens of the animal we seek. They ride in the backs of the rhinos picking off ticks. But if we see them, make no noise for they often warn the rhinos of the approach of the hunter. Hey, Tarzan, are those the oxpeckers over there? Way over by that big hill. You're developing eyes suitable for the jungle, Billy. A quiet man we must approach with caution. I'll go ahead. Come on, Billy. Tarzan and Smith will bring up the rear. Well, there they are. A whole herd of them. This is worth coming to Africa for. Come on, Bill. Got your gun ready, Billy? I don't think I get fires. Aren't you going to follow them, Smith? I'll stay a little back and cover them with my gun in case of trouble. Even with those four-foot horns, the rhinos stand little chance against the term on Gunny's thundersticks. You coming, Billy? I'll be long soon. We can't get a shot at them when they're half submerged in the water. Maybe if I stand on the bank, I can make one of them charge toward me. Then we can both get a good shot, Bill. It's risky, Harry. So is life. Come on. Look, Harry and Dad, they're almost beside the rhinos. Where's Tarzan? Molly got scared and took to the trees. Look, one of them is charging, Harry. Oh, he's gone down under it. The rhinos are killing Harry. Oh, now he's turning on Dad. Smith, what are you doing? Where are you aiming? No, you don't... You're safe in the forest, Mr. Pemberley. Harry's dead, and so is Mr. Smith. Smith, too? I... I don't remember what happened. Yes, you lost consciousness. I was too late to save Harry from the rhino, but I managed to pull you away just in time. And where was Smith? Back in the trees, getting a good beat on you through his telescopic sight. You see, Harry and he had been plotting to kill you for a long time. Smith's real name was Scorati. He told us that and a lot more before he died. But if he was all the way back where we left him, how did the rhinos kill him? They didn't. Billy shot him when he saw that his father's life was at stake. Billy, you used a gun? Yes, Dad. He was not afraid when it was important to fight. You see, there are all sorts of courage, Mr. Pemberley. All sorts of cowardice, too. Harry was afraid to tell you he owed money, yet he possessed the type of false courage that led to his death. All his life, Scorati lacked the courage to work for an honest living. And you lacked the courage to accept the son you cannot understand because he's different from you. I have invited Billy to remain here in the jungle as my son. Do you want to stay here with Tarzan, Billy? Well, you're my real dad, but... but if you don't want me... I do want you, son. I want you, and I'm proud of you. I know now that you're as courageous as... well, as Tarzan here. And you won't have to prove it by killing animals or leaping from tree to tree. In just a moment, we'll return to tell you about our next story. Our next story is called The Female of the Species. In the story, Tarzan acquires a new friend, a most amusing parrot, and he also acquires new enemies, a tribe of vicious female warriors who lure Tarzan to their jungle city, capture him, inflict murderous torture upon him, and prove without a doubt that the female of the species is more deadly than the male. Tarzan, the transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs, is produced by Walter White Jr. Prepared for radio by Bud Lesser, with original music by Albert Lesser. This is a Commodore production.