 The Clyde Bady Show! The world's greatest wild animal trainer Clyde Bady with another exciting story from his brilliant career. This master of the big cats captures ferocious jungle beasts and trains them to perform under the big top in the circus. Where there are always thrills, action and danger, hundreds of dramatic behind-the-scenes adventures are all part of the Clyde Bady story. Here is the story of Land of the Giants. Oh, Clyde, doesn't that fan feel good? Well, it's probably the only one in Salisbury. Enjoy it while you can. I wish we could take it on our safari with us. What would we use for electricity? Fireflies, maybe? Oh, darling, that's silly. Oh, and speaking of flies, there's one on your cheek. Brush it off. Oh, so much trouble. Honey, I said brush it off. Oh, darling. For what I am about to do, forgive me. Got'em. Clyde, you struck me. You're darn right I struck you. And I warn you, I'll do it again if you keep on being careless about insects. Well, it's just a little old housefly. Uh-huh. Now take another look. You see the brownish color, the modeled markings, the long proboscis? Here. Notice the size? Oh, it is larger than a housefly at that. This little beauty, my dear, is Glossina Morcitans. Heaven sounds horrible. It is. That fella could have put you to sleep for a long, long time. Maybe forever. Oh, sure. A little old fly couldn't do that. A little old Seitzi fly could. I thought you said it was a glossy whatever you call it. Glossina Morcitans. That's the same thing. Well, how can they put you to sleep? They transmit trypanosomes. Thank you, Dr. Kildare. They're bugs that cause a nasty little disease called sleeping sickness, honey. Hmm. And I thought all I had to worry about were wild beasts and cannibals and things like that. In Rhodesia, you worry about Seitzi flies. And don't you forget that. Yes, Lord and Master. I don't want to go around slapping your lovely face all the time. Because you love me, Lord and Master. No, Turtle Dove, because it stings my hands. Clyde, baby. And now back to Clyde, baby's adventure entitled Land of the Giant. Just a moment. Mr. Beatty? Yes, I'm Beatty. Well, I'm Stanley Roberts. I'm sorry if I disturb you. Not at all. I wish to speak with you about something rather urgent. Well then, come in. Come on in. Uh, this is Mrs. Beatty, Harriet, Mr. Stanley Roberts. Oh, won't you sit down? Oh, thank her. Well, I'll leave you men to your business. Oh, no, don't go, Mrs. Beatty. What I have to say concerns both of you. Well, let me fix you a nice drink. It's so terribly hot. Oh, you're very kind. We're not quite used to this kind of climate. Can one ever get used to it? Here you are, here. Can I fashion you as Clyde? No, thanks, dear. This is fine. Well, now, what can we do for you, Mr. Roberts? Well, knowing what sort of a man you are, Mr. Beatty, I'll be very direct if you don't mind. Oh, good. I understand you're about to make a safari into Northern Rhodesia. That's right. We intend to push off across Western Mozambique and into Nyataland. We'll probably come back down the Luangwa. May even push out of Victoria Falls. Well, may I ask when you're leaving Salisbury? As soon as I've selected a guide. I know I'm presuming, Mr. Beatty, but I wish to be considered for that post. Are you a professional guide? No, I'm not. But believe me, sir, I know every inch of South Africa from Durban to the Tanganyika. Well, you see, Roberts, they're a couple of men I've hired for other expeditions. They'll be here in Salisbury next week. I feel they should be considered first for the job. But you don't understand. I don't wish to be hired. You'll not have to pay me at all. I'd simply wish to guide your expedition to Carunga. Did I say we were going to Carunga? No, but if you go north across Nyataland, Carunga would be the logical place for your party to reach the Luangwa River. Well, evidently, you have a reason for going to Carunga, Mr. Roberts. Yes. May I ask what I did? Yes, of course. I hope to find my brother. Or at least a trace of him. Your brother? Yes. Some three years ago, my brother returned from a trip into the Tanganyika territory. And almost immediately he came down with a serious siege of sleeping sickness. Well, I nursed him through it, but before he was completely recovered, he disappeared. And he hasn't been heard of since. You think he's gone back to the Tanganyika territory? Yes, why? Well, things he said during his convalescence. He... well, he raved about a fortune in gold and diamonds he'd discovered. He swore he'd return to recover it. Did he tell you where he'd found this fortune? No. Then what makes you think it's Carunga? Because he mentioned the Wambasi. Wambasi? I don't think I've heard of that tribe. Well, the tribe is obscure, but... that they exist, I'm certain. Well, how can you tell them from the other natives in the Tanganyika territory? Because, Mr. Beatty, the Wambasi warriors are seven feet tall. Robert's declaration that there were natives in the region of Carunga that were seven feet tall amazed me. I checked with the authorities in Salisbury and found the Englishman was speaking the truth. There was a tribe, small in numbers, but extremely savage, who were giants among the native tribes of South Africa. The Wambasi, only to be found in the Tanganyika territory near Carunga. A sixth sense told me not to retain Robert's to guide our safari. But his story about locating his lost brother somehow touched me, and I did agree to take Robert's along with me. Tide? Yes? It's kind of terrible, Tide. Can't we stop for a few minutes? Of course, honey. Robert has set a very fast pace. Too fast if you ask me. Oh, Robert, Robert, hold up. Let's stop a bit, eh? Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Beatty. I'm afraid I've set too steep a pace. That's for sure. After all, the original purpose of this safari was pleasure. Oh, please forgive me. It's just my anxiety about my brother that makes me want to push on so rapidly. Mancunya Rally! I've noticed our porters and gun bearers have been a bit reluctant to continue. What does that mean? Well, they're frightened. Somehow they've learned that we've set out for the Wambasi country. Look, eh, Robert, I agreed to take you along on this safari, but if there's a chance that our natives won't stick along with us, I'd rather not take the chance of being stranded in a country like this. Well, I'm afraid we've gone too far to turn back now, Mr. Beatty. What do you mean? Listen. What, are those native drums? Yes. That's why our bearers are upset. Those are Wambasi drunks. Wambasi? Well, I don't like this, Robert. Well, let me talk to the natives. I think I can keep them in line. All right! Clyde, those drunks. They frighten me. Just a jungle telegraph, dear. I know, but somehow they sound so ominous. Don't worry. Everything will be all right. Clyde? Yes, dear? I'm worried about Stanley, Robert. What's the change in him? Well, he seems to be a bit more eager now that we've gotten so close to the place where he thinks his brother may be found. I don't think his brother is his first concern, Clyde. Well, what makes you say that? Well, I don't know. Maybe it's just a hunch, but... Well, I just don't trust him. I checked on him back in Salisbury. Everything he said has been verified. Still, I feel there's something wrong with him. Those drunks have disturbed you, Harriet. Don't let yourself imagine things now. Nevertheless, Clyde, I don't trust him. Roberts and his brother are from a very well-known family in England. Yes, but if you ask yourself why... Well, maybe they like it here. I heard they were sent out here by their family to get them out of England. Well, just because Mama and Papa Roberts didn't want a couple of wild boys cluttering up their London drawing room doesn't make them criminals. No, I know, but still I'm worried. Oh, now, Harriet... I'm convinced that Stanley Roberts has some ulterior purpose beyond locating his missing brother. Well, why do you say that? Well, I've heard that no love has been lost between them. They've constantly been at odds with one another. It doesn't seem reasonable that suddenly Stanley should be so concerned with his brother's welfare. After all, honey, blood is thicker than water. Yes, and diamonds and gold have severed many a family tie. Lady, wake up. Roberts, what's wrong? I'm native. They've disappeared. What? I've just made the runs at the camp and they've gone. They've just faded off into the night. Well, that's a fine state of affairs. Yes, I was afraid of this. Well, I told you, I want to find my brother. Why do you want to find your brother? I don't like your tone, Mr. Batey. Are you accusing me? I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm simply asking you a question. Surely you don't think that I'm... Listen, Roberts, all I know is that you've gotten my wife and me in a very serious predicament. Without our porters, it'll be plenty tough to get out of here. As a guide to this safari, you should have foreseen this possibility. I did. You did, and yet you risked our lives. Well, there was a great deal at stake. Are you referring to your brother or the gold and diamonds? Well, I guess there's no good carrying on a pretence. Well, being of my brother means very little to me. Certainly not enough to risk my life. What a sucker I was to fall for your story. You see, I couldn't have come up with the cash necessary to finance a safari out here. Your arrival in Salisbury was very opportune. I ought to smash you to a pulp. Yes, well, that, I'm afraid, would do better to look good in this situation. Huh. It seems that my little plan is backfired. It appears I'm in as much danger as you and your wife. If I didn't need you to guide us out of here, I'd break you in two. Fortunately for me, you do require my knowledge of this country. We're in the same boat base. You couldn't hope to get out without me. What is it? What happened? Your hunch about this character was right, Harriet. He's put us on a spot. That's the natives. They've disappeared. Disappeared? But why? The drums. The jungle drums. Yeah, it's the Wombasi talking to one another. But they're closer. Much closer than they were. That's why our natives have left us. They were frightened off. Are the Wombasi such a terrible tribe of savages? Evidently, as you already know, they're giants. Most of them as tall as seven feet. Well, the other native tribes are afraid of them. Well, just because they're tall, does that mean they're more savage than other tribes? Well, I shouldn't count on that, Mrs. Beatty. They're proud in individual race. Because of their size, they feel themselves above all other natives. They'll brook no mingling with others in this territory. Knowing all this, Roberts, how could you have been foolish enough to bring us off here? You've forgotten. My brother. Oh, come off it. Don't start on that. I'm out to save my brother routine again. But you don't understand. I certainly don't. I'm out of gold at stake to make a guy like you risk his neck. There is. And it's my brother who's going to save us. What? From the sound of those drums, the Wombasi are getting more and more excited. It shouldn't be too long until they pay us a visit. Then let's get out of here while there's still time. There is no time, Beatty. The Wombasi are all around us by now. Well, I must admit, for a guy with a character like yours, you're very calm about all this. Oh, you forget, darling. He's British. Chin up, old chap. They white tie for dinner and all that sort of thing. Uh-oh. The drums have stopped. Looks like the quarterbacks given the signal. Take this gun, Harriet. You'd better draw yours, Roberts. I think the ball game's about to stop. Whatever you do, Beatty, don't shoot one of them. Look, mister, you can wait around for this missing brother of yours to save you. But before my wife and I wind up in a cannibal's stoopod, I'm going to knock down a few of those long, tall boys. Clyde, look. All around the clearing. Oh, brother, look at the size of them. If for heaven's sake, Beatty, don't fire at them. It wouldn't do any good, and there are hundreds of them. I see what you mean. Oh, Clyde, I've never seen such tremendous men. What are we going to do? Well, my darling, we're already on our knees, so we'd better start to pray. And now, back to Clyde Beatty's adventure, Land of the Giants. Harriet, Stanley, Roberts and I watched in fascinated amazement as the huge natives moved closer and closer into the clearing. The light from our campfire glistened on their giant muscular bodies. I put my arm around Harriet and drew her close to me. Roberts had lost all of his assurance. Great. Great scum, Beatty. Have you ever seen anything like them in your life? No. But brother, what a basketball team they make. What? Oh, skip it. Strictly an American type joke. Well, I'm afraid I've got us into a bit of a mess. I'm afraid you jolly well have, old boy. Oh, well, we're done for, Beatty. We're done for. They'll kill us. Shut up, you fool. Maybe we can bluff them out of it. No, never. Never. They'll torture us to death. In that case, it won't hurt to try. You. Stop. Stop where you are. You don't think they can understand English, do you, Clyde? No, but they can understand the sound of authority in a voice. Don't come closer. I will have words with your leader. They stopped. Clyde, they stopped. I don't know my own power. I'd better keep talking. If you harm us, many men will come to destroy you. See? I put down my weapons. You do the same. Send out your leader to make talk. They seem to be discussing what to do. Oh, keep talking, Clyde. Keep talking in that same tone of voice. You don't know what else to say. Don't say anything. Anything. Just talk stern. Okay, here it goes. Now, look here. Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. I say, oh, boy, isn't that a bit of rock to your jabbering? Clyde, why don't you speak English? Well, George! George, it's you! Oh, thank God! Thank God! Well, what is this? That's my brother George. He is the one bussy leader. Good heavens, Stanley. What in the world are you doing here? Well, I was worried about you. I got Mr. Batey here to make up a safari. A week came out to find you. Oh, you, I take it, are Batey? Yes. American? Yes, and this is my wife. How do you do? Now, what is this preposterous story? My dear brother is spuffing. Oh, no, believe me, George, I was worried. Wasn't I, Mr. Batey? You tell him how I came to you. My constituents are a bit restless. They can't understand why I haven't given them the order to cut you to pieces. Oh, don't worry, Mr. Batey. I'll not let them harm you. That is not until I determine what you're after. You must forgive me. The Wambasi are protesting all this plover. I'm afraid I'll have to let them take you prisoner and return you to their village for a council of war. You must forgive me. The Wambasi are protesting all this plover. I'm afraid I'll have to let them take you prisoner and return you to their village for a council of war. You must forgive me. You must forgive me. Oh, God, I'm frightened. Don't be, honey, Robert's brother can get us out of this. I hope. Mr. and Mrs. Batey, I trust you slept well in spite of our inadequate accommodations. This hut isn't exactly a summer resort. I'm sorry about the rough handling you received last night. You see, I'm the only white man the Wambasi have ever seen. They consider me their leader. They fear you may have come to endanger me. Strangely enough, we came out here under the misapprehension that we were going to save you. Save me? Yes, your brother was concerned about your welfare. He came as guide on our safari to find you. Ah, very touching. It seems I've been duped. You have indeed. But then that's nothing new for my dear brother. Then you're not interested in getting back to civilization, Mr. Robert? Oh, I didn't say that, Mrs. Batey. Well, in that case, why don't you just leave the Wambasi? It's not that simple. Aren't you their leader? Won't they do anything you say? I am their leader and they will do anything I say, with the few exceptions. What exceptions? Allow me to leave for one and for another allow me to interfere with one of their important tribal customers. Well, what is that? Execute all intruders. I see. You mean, you won't be able to stop them from killing us? I regret to say that is the case. Well, you were an intruder. How did you escape? I told you, I was the first white man they'd ever seen. They thought I might have magical powers and with a few simple tricks, I convinced them ahead. Why couldn't we do the same? No. You see, when the Scouts came to me with the information that three other whites had entered this territory, I had to explain that you were evil gods. Evil gods? Well, why did you do that? To protect myself. After all, the only reason the Wambasi made me their leader was because to them, I was unique. I couldn't chance you're altering that position. Oh. Roberts, there are names for people like you. This is the Dungalbaity. You should know the first law of survival, self-preservation. So you're going to let Harriet, me and your own brother, die? I have no choice. I've been dancing like that for hours, God. It's getting on my nerves. Mine too, darling. But the longer they keep it up, the longer we have to think it's some way out of this mess. Oh. Oh, cut that out, Roberts. This is bad enough without you going to pieces. But they'll torture us. They'll torture us to death. They will unless we think it's... Oh, it's no use. It's no use. Shut up. I said shut up. Don't hit me again. Don't hit me again. Then keep quiet and let me think. God, it wouldn't be difficult to break out of this flimsy hut. Then maybe we could get away in the dark. I thought of that, honey. But I'd only do that as a last resort. That'd leave too many advantages on their side. But if we get enough of a start before they discover our escape, we might make it. No, no. There must be a better way. Wait a minute. I think I got an angle. What is it? Tell me quickly. Something about this whole setup's been bothering me. Everything about it's been bothering me. George Roberts made a big point about self-preservation being the first law of the jungle. That's true. But in his case, I wonder if there isn't another, a stronger motivation. I don't follow you, dear. I'm talking about greed, Harriet. Greed. Well, even I can see that both the Roberts brothers have more than their share of that. Exactly. Behind all this, there's a little matter of wealth, gold and diamonds. Oh, I'd forgotten all about that. Sure. And so would most people in this situation. But I'd bet my life that George Roberts hasn't. I agree. But how in the world could that help us? Darling, I've got a plan. It's a long shot, a very long shot. I may be wrong, and if I am, we're sunk. But we've got to take a check. For hours, the Wambasi continued their frenzied dancing. While we waited, I carefully went over every detail of my plan with Harriet and Stanley Roberts, who calmed down almost immediately when he realized we might escape from our apparently hopeless predicament. Eventually, we were taken from the hut and brought to the scene of the execution ceremony. Oh, Clyde. I'm so frightened that I think I'm going to scream. Easy now, honey, easy. It's the waiting. I can't stand anymore. Honey, you've been wonderful now. Just hold out a few minutes more. I don't see George Roberts. What if he doesn't appear? He's over there in the shadows. They're putting his ceremonial robes on him. Does that mean they're almost ready for... It means that in a few minutes, we'll be on our way out of here. Here they come. They're escorting Roberts to the place of honor. Now's our time to act. Roberts, come over here. Betty, talking to me won't do you any good. I told you there's nothing I can do for you. I think there is. Just step a little closer. There. Don't make a move or I'll carve out your liver. You'll put up that knife. I'll put it right through you if you don't do exactly as I say. Do those natives see that knife? They'll see it sticking out of you if you don't shut up. Now, that wide-bladed sword lying on the sacrificial rock. Is that the execution weapon? Yes, but... Order one of the Wombasi to bring it over to you. Do it. I don't see it. Do it. Wanta! Wanta Zela! Now watch your game. When you get that sword, order all your subjects to stand back. Then you're to make a speech. A speech I'm going to dictate to you. This is insane. Here comes the native with a sword. Now take it and order it back. Wanta lisa buana. Take it. Order it back. Wanta. Wanta. Buando. Good. Now make a speech. Tell the Wombasi that a special ceremony is required to kill the evil one. What? Tell them only you, their leader, can successfully do the job. And that it must be done in a special place far from the village. By no means are they to follow for to see the death throes of the evil ones is taboo. You got that? We couldn't get away with it. Then we'll die, but you'll die first. No, don't try anything with that sword or you'll feel this knife. Now Robert start talking and make it convincing. Wally! What's that? What's that? What do you want? You call us, huh? What does he call us? What do you want? What do you want? What do you want? What do you want? How far? How far do you think we've gone, Clive? It's almost daylight. Mr. Traveled at least 10 miles. Oh, when do you think it'll be safe to stop? I'm exhausted. Sorry darling. We had to push on as fast as possible. No way of knowing how long the Wambasi would hold still for our gag. Hey Robert, how far are we from Luangua? Bend to the river is just ahead. About a mile. Let's stop and rest a minute. Yes, I'm ready for that too. Well, Robert, it looks like our hoax worked, huh? So far, yes. But now what? When we get to the river, you're going to take us to the place you've hidden the boat. Boat? What makes you think I know where to find a boat? I'm psychic. And from the look on your face, I'd say I'm right too. You see, Mr. Robert, my husband has a faculty for reading human nature. And I think he's done a good job of reading yours. I don't think you're the type who'd remain with a tribe of savages when you had a fortune in gold and diamonds. How did you know about that? I told him. Those Husky Wambasi could do a lot of digging for you, couldn't they? You must have quite a treasure piled up by now. When were you planning to make a break for civilization with it? As a matter of fact, baby, I was about to leave the Wambasi when you three appeared. You thought we might make it difficult for you to sneak off, and worse than that, you thought we might want to share your treasure. You're so right, Betty. My dear brother George would sacrifice anyone to satisfy his greed. Even me, his own brother. Yes. Even his own brother. Mrs. Betty and I are interested in only one thing, getting out of Nyasaland. You do have a boat hidden near the river, don't you, Robert? Yes. Well, let's go. The condition of our health indicates a voyage down the Luangua River. Now, just a moment. Oh, your treasure. We mustn't forget your treasure. Precisely. How big is your boat? Just a small dugout. Not big enough for four passengers and the treasure. Hardly. Then the treasure stays. The treasure stays. If you want it so badly, you can come back and get it. But my wife and I are getting out of here. Self-preservation, Mr. Robert. Self-preservation. Doesn't that fan feel good, Claude? And how, darling? I haven't seen George Robert since we've been back in Salisbury. You suppose he's gone after his gold and diamond? Probably. Do you think he'll ever be able to get the treasure out? Frankly, I don't care. And if he manages, he'll have that brother of his sniffing around like a home dog. That's for sure. That too of a kind. Yes, too of a kind that sometimes makes this old world a miserable place to live in. Oh, honey, there's a fly in your cheek. Brush it off. Another Tutsi fly? Yup. My mistake was in letting you brush off that first one. Huh? Just think, I could have slept through this whole adventure. Clyde will return with a preview of our next story in just a moment. Here again is Clyde Beatty. Many of the strangest attractions seen under the big top have been imported from the continent. A few years ago, Harriet and I visited Europe during the off-season and discovered Jacques and Rizel Dumont. But fate stepped in on our return voyage and the Dumonts Act was destined never to be seen in America. You'll hear the whole exciting story, Death in State Room B when next we meet. All stories are based upon incidents in the career of the world-famous Clyde Beatty and the Clyde Beatty Circus. The Clyde Beatty show is produced by Shirley Thomas. Land of the Giants was written by R.T. Smith and Frank Hart Towsy. All names used were fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a Commodore production.