 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 trophy room. Or of a wild beast and the scream of a woman. Tarzan grasped a hanging vine and hurled himself into the middle level of jungle growth. Swinging from tree to tree with incredible speed, he neared the spot where a beautiful blonde girl crouched in fear. A few feet from an angry lioness. On the ground between the girl and the she-lion lay a rifle. Now the girl gathered courage and reached out for the weapon. But the lioness seeming to sense her intentions struck out with cruel talons, breaking the girl's slender arm. The scent of blood was strong now and the lioness leaped forward. But a metal-tipped arrow, seeming to come from nowhere, caught the lioness in mid-air and plunged deep into its savage heart. You've spoiled everything by saving your life? I could have reached the den, I would have reached it. I see. Well then I apologize for interfering. Apologies won't help now. I have no intention of claiming the animal, I can find meat elsewhere. Meat? I didn't want the lioness for food. Your attitude is most strange and in fact the very presence of a white woman here is most mysterious. There's nothing mysterious about my presence at all. This land belongs to my husband. We have a large house less than a mile from here. In the middle of the jungle? Yes, in the middle of the jungle. But why should you question me? You're a trespasser on this land. It's up to you to explain what you're doing here. This section of the jungle is one of the few I have not explored up until now. I like to explore. I did not know that this was private land. Well you know it now, so you'd better leave. I shall. The next time I'd suggest that you exercise a little more care when you take a walk. It isn't safe for a woman to wander aimlessly in the jungle. I wasn't wandering aimlessly. I saw the lioness prowling out here. I can see a great distance to my bedroom window. You came here deliberately to stalk a lioness? Why? Oh you ask too many questions. I advise you to get off our land at once. And I advise you to hurry home and have that arm looked at. It's badly injured. I'd have given my whole arm to take that lioness home. But you can take it home. I told you I'd not claim it. I'll carry it to your house for you and then leave your property. Thank you but it wouldn't do any good now. My husband could tell it a glance how it had been killed. He'd know I hadn't shot it. Byron knows all there is to know about hunting. Byron, that's your husband's name? Byron Baldwin. I'm Athea Baldwin. I'm Tarzan and I apologize for spoiling whatever it is I've spoiled. I thought you were in danger. Oh I was. I couldn't have reached the rifle. And even if I had I probably couldn't have killed the lioness. But I wanted to so very badly. I've never been able to understand man's passion for killing. Nor I. But hunting means everything to Byron. That's why he had our house built in the jungle. Hunting is all he cares about. I thought if I could come out here alone, if I could kill that lioness without help, I could make him respect me again. I guess a woman will do anything to recapture her husband's love. Recapture? That explains a great deal. You imagine your husband no longer loves you. It isn't imagination. But you're very beautiful. You have courage too. Surely you must be mistaken about your husband's love. I'm not mistaken. If you don't believe me, come back to the house with me. I'll show you a man who lives only so he can hunt. A man whose only love is the love of killing. It's a fabulous house, Athea. Carved right out of the jungle. Yes, it's quite a show place. For the animals and the handful of natives who sometimes come here by accident. I guess he's still out hunting. Sometimes he doesn't return for days. You don't know what it's like being all alone in this big house. Alone? But surely you have family or servants here with you? We've had a few native women from time to time. But they never stay more than a few days. Not that I blame them. Why do they leave? Because of Muehny. I didn't tell you about Muehny, did I? No, you didn't. I think I'm more afraid of Muehny than I am of Byron when he's aching to kill. More afraid than I am of spending nights alone here in this barren house. More than the fear that I'll go mad unless I can leave here. Who or what is Muehny? Come into the trophy room with me and I'll tell you. Only walk quietly because maybe Muehny's here. Maybe Muehny didn't go with Byron today. In just a moment we'll return to our exciting story of Tarzan. Althea led Tarzan down a long narrow hall until finally they stood before a heavily paneled door of polished oak. This was the trophy room. Althea swaddled hard and then swung the door open admitting a narrow shaft of light that illuminated a few mounted heads of animals and reptiles hanging on the walls. Beneath them were large gun cases made of glass and containing every conceivable instrument of death. Aside from the narrow shaft of light, the room was in total darkness. Tarzan crossed to open the somber black drapes but as he did so a figure moved in the shadows and a huge negro the largest man Tarzan had ever seen came at him. His dark face contorted with rage. My hand on my knife. No Tarzan. He didn't know what he was doing. He's like a child. I'll find out what sort of a child he is. Tell me why you attack me. I'll plunge this knife into your heart. Tell me. Please Tarzan let him go. He can't tell you what was in his mind. He has no powers of speech. What? Let him go. For now. There you are Muehny. But I warn you. Thank you Tarzan. If anything had happened to him, Byron would never have forgiven me. Muehny, go to your room. I'll call you when the master comes. I said go to your room. If that's the reception Muehny accords every newcomer here I don't wonder that you're alone. I don't think he's actually vicious. He just has some sort of strange idea that he must protect everything that belongs to Byron. Of course he thinks of me as one of Byron's possessions. I guess I am. Has he never spoken? I don't think so. Although of course we're not sure. You see Byron bought him at a slave auction when he was full grown. Despite his size and his strength he was quite a bargain. Being mute. Is he deaf as well? Oh no. He has superhuman hearing. The way Dr. Sloan explained it he's extremely sensitive to vibrations. I suppose that's why he can sense the coming of an animal from an incredible distance. Even against the wind. A valuable asset for a hunting companion. Is that why Byron keeps him? Of course. Dr. Sloan examined Muehny and said that with his sensitivity to vibrations he could be taught to speak. Byron was furious. He hadn't given Dr. Sloan permission to examine Muehny and he had no intention of having his perfect servant changed. Who was Dr. Sloan? Oh I... I didn't tell you about him did I? No you didn't. He was a well-known hunter as well as being a famous doctor. Byron invited him here and he was our guest for several months. I suppose he would have remained longer had it not been for his interference in the case of Muehny. That's incredible. Byron suddenly decided Dr. Sloan was a meddling fool and he was afraid Muehny might hear the doctor say he could be taught to speak. Byron didn't want that. He drove Dr. Sloan out of the house in the middle of the night at the point of a gun. Well, I'll open the drape so you can see my beloved husband's altar room more easily. Oh I'll do it. You call this his altar room? Yes. This is where he does his worshiping to the only God he knows. I've seen him spend hours here just polishing the stock of a favorite gun. Alfea, when we met you said you wanted to kill the lioness so you could recapture your husband's love and yet you speak of him with hatred in your voice. Do I? Why did you marry him? Oh, he was quite a catch. Tall, handsome, wealthy, a well-known sportsman with a romantic hunting lodge in Africa. Any girl would have jumped at the chance. Yes, I can understand that, but now that you know what he is, why don't you leave him? I tried that twice. Oh yes, I have a great chance of trying to get away from Byron and his watchdog Muehny. No one should be forced to remain in a place they find unbearable with people they've come to hate. Oh, would you, Tarzan, would you take me with you to another land, to a place where Byron can't find me? Of course I will. Oh, Tarzan, I've waited years for someone like you to come along. Promise you won't go back on your word. Of course I won't. Well, this is a pleasant little scene. Byron. It's quite a surprise to come home and find my wife in the arms of another man. She was hardly in my arms. She'd started to cry and I was merely comforting her, patting her on the back as if they were a small jungle creature who was lost and frightened. Yes, I can see from your attire that you are more used to the jungle than to the drawing room. Yet certain, shall we say, gifts seem instinctive. Among the apes who raised me, there was always one crime that was unforgivable. The taking of another's mate. It's a crime I could never be guilty of, for I myself have helped a pack of apes tear the violator of this law limb from limb. I have no intention of attempting to tear you limb from limb, jungle man. I think you will find that I am not without my own forms of punishment. If I'd known you were Tarzan, I'd never would have talked to you like that. Tarzan, hmm? Why should my identity make any difference? We'll get to that. But right now you've got the promise to stay for dinner. Althea's fixing it now and I have to admit she's a good cook. Is that why you keep her here against her will so she can cook for you? Oh, so she's been off in that tack again, eh? I suppose she told you I was a little of my rocker. And I kept her a virtual prisoner here. Yeah, she did. Poor Althea. I wish I knew what to do with her. She has the most incredible imagination. Are you sure that what she's told me stems from imagination? Well, of course, I don't know exactly what she's told you. But I know her usual line. It's part of her melody. I had a famous doctor come all the way here to examine her. He said she'd have to be placed in an institution for an indefinite period. Was that Dr. Slane? Yes, it was. So she told you, huh? Well, your story's concerning him differ slightly. I never told Althea the whole truth. I was so furious at Dr. Slane's diagnosis I'm afraid I ran him off. Althea told me you drove him off because he threatened to teach Muay-Nee how to speak. Poor Althea, she knows I'd give my right arm to help Muay-Nee to lead a normal life. I bought him from his parents because they planned to kill him out of fear of his mutinous. They thought he was the reincarnation of some evil spirit. Yes, knowing the native mind I can believe then. I can believe everything I've told you, Tarzan. What reason could I have for lying? I don't know. Ah, here comes our dinner. What did you get me on the low table, Muay-Nee? Are we to eat here, Mr. Baldwin? Please call me, Byron. We're going to be great friends, Tarzan. You don't mind eating here? To be truthful, I disliked this room. The display of guns and the mounted heads of animals killed only for the satisfaction of killing them. We could eat in the dining room, Byron. Nonsense, my dear. After having you go to additional work, you see, Tarzan, we keep most of the house closed up because of the impossibility of obtaining reliable native servants. It would take, Althea and Muay-Nee hours to get the dining room into usable shape, I see. Why don't you tell him the truth, Byron? That you even sleep in this room? That you can't bear to be separated from the animals you've mastered? Oh, now, please, dear, try to calm down. I know you're upset today, but also... Yes, I am upset. I'm upset because now I can see from Tarzan's expression you've convinced him I'm crazy. Please, Althea. It'll be the same as it's always been. He'll go away convinced I'm insane and you're normal. Well, I won't let you fool anyone else. Althea. No, no, no. Muay-Nee, back. I'm holding your wrists. Althea wasn't going to hurt me. She's just a little overwrought. Tell Muay-Nee you weren't going to hurt me, Althea. No, Muay-Nee. I wasn't going to hurt the precious, Byron. See, Tarzan? Yes, I'm afraid I do. He has convinced you, Tarzan. You didn't raise a finger to help me. You think I'm mad now? The way you flew at him, it wasn't the act of a sane person. I've seen such fury in the jungle, but only from animals who had... Shall we eat Tarzan? Althea will get over it in a few minutes. She'll sulk over in that corner for a little while and then she'll join us. Muay-Nee, better take the coffee back to the kitchen and heat it again. The strange thing is that when Althea gets over this pill, she'll be normal and lovely again. Here, have a bit of this cold mutton. I'm afraid my appetite has deserted me. Althea, what are you doing with that gun? Althea, put that gun down. Killing is never the way to solve a problem. You smashed it! You broke it into pieces! Look at it. My lovely Cogswell and Harrison. Even the telescopic sight ruined. Althea, I'll never forgive you for this. It was my favorite rifle. My very favorite... Byron, Byron, after all, it's only a gun. Only a gun? I killed a hundred animals with it. I've worked over it for days, adjusting the sight, finding out the best ammunition for a sure kill. It... it was the one rifle I really loved. She's ruined it. I hate to destroy anything, Tarzan, but it was the only way of making him show his hand. I can see the picture now, Althea. I'll keep my promise. I'll help you escape. Oh, no, you won't. Just step back or I'll put a nice little hole in your forehead. I always carry a pistol, just in case. There's no use reaching for your knife. Uaini is very skillful at sleight of hand. My knife is gone. Yes, and your bow narrows, too. Uaini and I expected something like this. No, Tarzan, don't move toward him. He's an excellent shot. He couldn't miss it this distance. No, I couldn't possibly miss. But, I'm going to give you one chance to escape, Tarzan. However, I hardly think you'll like the condition. In just a moment, the exciting conclusion of Trophy Room. Byron, you spoke of giving me one chance to escape, provided I met certain conditions. What are the conditions? I read a story once about another man who had tired of the endless game of pitting his intelligence against their dumb animals. He contrived a game wherein he would hunt man. Byron. Yes, yes. I've begun to find that even the most formidable of four-legged animals is no match for my hunting skill. But from what I've heard of you, Tarzan, you combine the intelligence of man and the jungle knowledge of wild animals. Were I to hunt you, it might prove a thrilling experience. And why should I agree to serve as the quarry of your mad hunt? Because were I to give you a head start, there might be some chance of you getting away. I could just as easily kill you now. But you wouldn't, Byron. You're too much of a sportsman to kill a defenseless animal, even though he'd be a man. I would prefer a hunt. But it takes two to provide a chase, the hunter and the hunted. You can't play your game unless I agree, so I too can set forth conditions. Tarzan, you aren't thinking of playing his crazy game. I may. What are your conditions, Tarzan? That you return my bow to me and that you provide me with one arrow. You may select any gun you choose and you may take one bullet. Before our game is over, we shall find out who is to be the hunter and who the hunted. Why should I agree to such ridiculous terms? Because were you to merely set me free, were you to give me the head start you mentioned? I could take to the upper level of jungle growth and be miles from here almost before you left the house. Why don't you take Byron up on it if you can escape? Why do you stand here? But if you agree to play the game my way, Byron, I will remain within a certain area. I promise that I shall not travel further than you can follow between now and dawn. All right, it's agreed. Let's take my property as the area for the hunt. There are fences on two sides, to the north and the east. The western boundary is marked by a wide creek and the southern by the bamboo forest. I understand, the area is acceptable. And you shall have one arrow and I, one bullet. It shall be a contest between one man and another, with life as the prize. Are you mad too, Tarzan? No, Althea, I'm quite sane, but this is the only method I can think of to free you from your captivity. Your only chance of a future rests in my ability to kill Byron before he kills me. Tarzan knew well the odds of this strange game, the advantage that a man with a gun had over one with a bow and a wooden arrow. He headed for the bamboo forest and then circled back along the heavy steel fencing that marked the north end of the hunting area. He walked softly, but if his adversary were near, he too knew the lore of the forest. No rustling leaf nor cracking twig revealed his presence. The wind was still, but even if it had not been, Tarzan realized his opponent was enough of a hunter to circle away from the wind. There was no scent, no sound, no hint that death in the form of a bullet might be waiting for Tarzan behind a bush, behind a small rock, from the creek bed, or the fork of a tree. Hours passed and still there was no sign of the hunter who had selected Tarzan as his quarry. Then to waste his bullet, I can step from behind this tree for a second and then duck back before me. Well, Mr. Byron Baldwin, you're not quite as accurate a shot as you gave yourself credit for. Perhaps the excitement of this hunt could have been a good shot and a good sportsman. You have many bullets, not the one arrow, but my hand will not tremble. The doubt of who was the hunter and who the hunter. Tarzan used every trick at his command, firing each time Tarzan exposed himself for a split second, never permitting Tarzan to draw close enough to use his bow. Now the jungle was quiet again. Tarzan had evaded his pursuer for a moment. He breathed more easily and then rounding the turn of the creek he saw Muehne, waiting for him in the shadow of a great tree, a gun in his hand. But Tarzan saw one thing more, a deadly python hanging from the tree about to wind its life-crushing coils fitted his lone arrow carefully to the string. He let the arrow fly and the python dropped to the ground at Muehne's feet, a slender missile through its brain. Yes, I know I'm a fool Muehne to have wasted my single arrow and then to let my hunter know where I am by sounding my victory cry. But perhaps life isn't the most precious thing in the world anyway. Maybe self-respect is. Well, Muehne, we've cornered our quarry, haven't we? And his arrow is spent. Well, Muehne, you've won the game. No, it's too easy this way. At point-blank range. Start running. I want to hear you beg for your life. Go ahead, run and plead. You have never yet heard an animal of the jungle plead for mercy. Go ahead, Byron, prove once more that you're a great hunter, a noble sportsman. You sound brave, but you'll crack yet. You'll crack now as I raise my rifle to my shoulder as I squint my eye. Take my sight carefully. Begin the pressure on the trigger and... Muehne! Muehne! You saved my life. And you've killed the man who called himself your master. I didn't kill him, but surely you wanted Sari to see him dead. I loved him. I told you when we met this morning I was only trying to regain his love and kill him. Then who? Your doctor friend once said he could learn to speak and sometimes out of great feeling come lessons not even science can teach us. Great feeling? I don't think I'll ever feel anything again. Yes, you will learn to feel and love and live once more. And Muehne will learn to speak and to make a new life. Each of you will be a whole person with no master to rule your soul. Nature intended it thus and in the end only the laws of nature triumph. We'll be back in just a moment to tell you about our next story of Tarzan. Courage and determination a small group of pioneers push forward the development of new lands in the jungle wilderness. But disaster lurks behind each rock and death behind each tree for these pioneers are opposed by a powerful jungle ruler one who is referred to as the lord of the jungle. In our next story Tarzan's mistake. Tarzan a 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 Glasser. This is a Commodore production.