 The Clyde Beatty Show! The world's greatest wild animal trainer Clyde Beatty with another exciting story transcribed 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 Beatty story. Here is the adventure entitled, Arabian Nightmare. Although wild animals are Clyde Beatty's chief interest, he has never forgotten that a good circus must also have the best in the way of domesticated animals such as horses. So with a circus equestrian director, Scotty McDonald, Clyde and Harriet visited Arabia following a safari in Africa. After a day's journey by boat from Djibouti on the east coast of Africa, they arrived at Aden, that strange and colourful city on the southern tip of Arabia. Here's the place, just ahead, Clyde. Ah, Akim Yakkar, exporter. Yeah, this is it. I'm glad you got those directions straight, Scotty. I have a simple client. I wrote them down on this paper. This doesn't look like a very prosperous place, from the outside at least. Well, Harriet the man at the hotel said this Akim fella could tell us where to get the finest horses and camels in Arabia. Well, if he can, I don't care what his place of business looks like. My sentiments exactly. Here, honey. Oh, thanks. There's a man at the rear, Clyde. Yeah, that must be our boy. Ah, welcome to my humbly established man. Your, uh, Akim Yakkar? Your servant. Good. Baby's my name. This is Mrs. Baby and Mr. McDonald. How do you do? I am honoured. You are an American? That's right. Our first visit to Arabia. May I wish for you a pleasant stay in my country. Thank you. And now may I serve you? Well, we were told that you could arrange for us to see the best horses and camels in Arabia. Indeed. We'd like to look some over and maybe buy a dozen of each. I see. And you want only the very finest. That's right. I am afraid that would require your journeying to the camp of Sheik Ibn El-Fashe. Of real Sheik? Oh, yes, Mrs. Speety, a real Sheik. He's one of the leading breeders of horses in Arabia. Ibn El-Fashe is the owner of the famous Rasheed. Perhaps you have heard of him? Rasheed? I'll say I've heard of him. I'm afraid you boys are getting ahead of me. What's this Rasheed, anyway? Well, Clyde Rasheed is the most famous Arabian stallion living. Brother, if we could get some horses from that stallion... That I could not guarantee, but of course, El-Fashe has other good stallions also. His horses are all of the best. Well, it sounds like he's our man, all right. Now, how do we get to see him and his horses? Oh, it can be arranged, but I'm afraid it is not an easy journey. Even El-Fashe's camp is located at an oasis in the desert. It is two days' journey from here. And I don't suppose there's a road going that way? No, the road only goes to the edge of the desert. You could be driven through the foothills to that point, but from there the journey must be made on horse or camel. Do you know someone who could take us there? Yes, Abdullah, a friend of mine, has made the trip often. If I can secure his services, it can be done. Supposing this Abdullah isn't available. In that case, I would not know. What do you suggest? Well, how about somebody else? Abdullah is the only man to whom I would entrust this responsibility. When one undertakes such a journey, it is well to have the best leader possible. The Rob-Al-Khalid Desert is virtually unexplored. We'll return to Clive-Veiti in just a moment. And I'll back through Clive-Veiti's adventure Arabian nightmare. It was almost noon the following day when we arrived at a small camp on the edge of the desert. There Abdullah arranged for horses, a couple more men, and three camels to pack our supplies. Ahead of us lay a scorched expanse of rolling dunes, a tan ocean with huge waves of sand. As our small caravan prepared to leave, I remembered what Akim had said about this desert being unexplored, and was glad we would only be traveling into it for two days. Here comes Abdullah Clive. I guess we're ready to shovel. And this is exciting, isn't it? Yeah, and I've got a hunch it's going to be plenty hot too. Look at those heat waves rising from the sand. If you are ready, we will leave at once, Efendi. We're all set, Abdullah. It is when? Here, honey, let me give you a hand here. Thank you. Steady, boy, steady. There you are. Well, I can see there's nothing wrong with these horses. Maybe we could buy some here and save ourselves a trip. Oh, no. We've come this far, and I intend to see the sheep's horses. Oh, I was kidding. I wouldn't miss this for anything. Yebel, Ibra, Hazarali-Maliha. That's strictly up to you now, Abdullah. Do not fear, Efendi. I have lived most of my life in the desert. Unless we run across a band of the hated Salubah, there is nothing to cause worry. The hated Salubah? Or what are they? They are what you would call gypsies, Efendi. Bedwinds are sometimes prey on the caravan. You mean that sort of thing is still going on in this country, Abdullah? Unfortunately, it is true. The Salubah are led by a cat-rope named El-Aqdar. They have caused much trouble in the rubble-collar desert, Efendi. We continued on through the hot afternoon, not seeing a living thing. And at sundown, Abdullah called a horse. In short order, he and the other two Arabs had erected a couple of tents and prepared food for our evening meal. Pretty cozy, huh? Night on the desert, a nice tent to smell of good food. Yeah, and a windstorm coming up. Abdullah said we might be parked here for a day or so, unless this wind shifts. He started to blow the sand already. I feel sorry for those poor horses and Campbell standing out here. Don't worry, Harry. They're used to it. Sure, they're okay. You know this Abdullah's an amazing guy. He takes off with us across the desert just like we'd go to the corner drugstore. No compass, no nothing to guide him. How does he know where we're headed? I don't know, Scotty. Maybe he's just got an instinct like a homing pig. Oh, hello, Abdullah. The food is prepared, Efendi. Ibra will bring it now. Good. Thanks, Abdullah. I'm hungry, too. The wind has started to shift. I think in the morning we will be able to continue. No, that's good news. I hope you're right. You will see. Tomorrow we will be favored with the Nazim. What is the Nazim? The Nazim is the good wind from the south, the Zephyr of the Najib. Well, I feel better if it turns out to be the Burlington Zephyr. Oh, Scotty, please. What is this? Nothing, nothing, Abdul. Just a bum joke from this bum, that's all. The waves of the Western people are most puzzling. Abdullah, if you're right about this wind dying down tonight, will we reach the oasis of Sheik Ibn El-Fasher tomorrow? We should arrive there at mid-afternoon, Effendi. Oh, good. It would be well for you to rest as soon as you have eaten. We will leave with the coming of the sun. Well, tomorrow we'll get to see the finest horses in Arabia, owned by a genuine Sheik. Efendi, ahead you will see the oasis. Hey, that looks like quite a garden spot. Indeed. It is the finest oasis in this part of the desert. Oh, it's amazing. I've always pitched it in a way. This is an acre of grass with a spring and three palm trees. You do? This one must be half a mile across, and lots of trees all over it. I hope the Sheik's in a good mood. Just think, Scotty. If we can buy some of Rashid's descendants, we'll be the only circus in the states featuring an all-Arabian horse number. Efendi, if I were you, I would not count too much on the Sheik Ibn El-Fasher selling you some of the great Rashid's offspring. Well, that's what our team said back in Aden, but he didn't say why. A famous prince of Arabia once put into words how some of my countrymen feel about their horses, Efendi. And what did the prince say? He said, any of my wives, any of my children, indeed all of my wives and children would I part with before parting with my horses. Some guy actually said that and got away with it. Why, my wife, why, she just looked... In your country is different, Efendi. In Arabia, a wife is to cook, not to talk. Well, I'm glad I don't live in Arabia then. And get that glint out of your eye, Clyde, baby. Don't go getting any ideas. Okay, honey. But please, when we talk to the Sheik, don't tell him what you think or he'll run us out. Ah, but she was delicious, Sheik Ibn El-Fasher. Please, Madame Betty, I know my full name is clumsy to say. Won't you just call me El-Fasher? Thank you. That will be easier. And now I know you would like to see the horses. We sure would. Of course, as we rode through the oasis, we saw several pens with horses in them, but we'd like a close look now. It will be my pleasure to show them to you. Will we be able to see Rashi? Oh, I would not let you go without seeing him. What color is he, black? Oh, no, he's a gray, almost white in fact. But he does have a black mark on his shoulder. It resembles a hand with fingers extended. But come, words cannot describe Rashi. You must see him for yourself. Well, you sound mighty proud of that animal. I don't suppose you'd ever consider selling him? Oh, indeed, no. There is not enough money in all Arabia to buy Rashi. So this is Rashi. Is everything you said he was, El-Fasher? He's simply beautiful. Now look at the fire in those eyes. Man, what a horse. I notice he's in a pen all to himself. Are those horses over in that other pen? Descendants of Rashi? All of them. I have put fifteen at the moment, fired by either Rashi or his son Haydn. Come, we will look at them. Did any of them inherit that black hand mark of Rashi? No, it has never been repeated. Hey, he's got to sure look like the old man, all right. You know, I was just noticing that. It's easy to tell that they've got Rashi's bloodlines. They're almost identical. That has been my purpose. Selective breeding has long been my chief interest. And those over in that other pen? They are by my other stallion. They also are fine horses. That's easy to see, all right. But these are Rashi's. They are really extra special. Mark the same and everything. If you had but arrived a few days ago, I could have shown you many more horses. But I wanted to get them to another. And most of my men are even now making that journey with them. Well, there's no doubt about which ones we really want. We could have the best horse act in the world if you'd sell a ten or twelve from Rashi's trade. You put me in an awkward position, baby. I should like to oblige you, and yet I cannot. Uh-oh, I was afraid of that. I am most sorry. But long ago I determined never to let any of Rashi's descendants be taken from Arabia. I would sell them only to those who give their word not to take them from my country. But why? What's wrong with taking them from Arabia? You may think me foolish, but it is my belief that horses such as these are meant to be ridden. Ridden hard, as only we of Arabia know how to ride. We were bred to run hour upon hour through the scent of the desert. As well as to look beautiful. Do you not understand? Yeah. Yeah, I think I do, Al-Qaeda. Hey, listen. What is it? Sounds like shooting. I do not know. Let me see. Keep it a touch up. The son of a step-mother. The new but the mother ill, Al-Aqsa. What? Parakea Katawa, speak to Amit. They come. They attack. What's going on? What is it? The curse-stalk Al-Aqsa is attacking the camps. Well, but what can we do? With most of my men away, I do not know for how long we can last. But we shall fight them. Clive Beatty will continue with his story in just a moment. And now, back to Clive Beatty and Arabian nightmare. Clive and Harriet Beatty with Scotty MacDonald were at the oasis of Sheikh Eben El-Fasher in the Robo-Kali desert of Saudi Arabia. Their hopes of buying some horses descended from the famous stallion Rashid were dashed from the sheik refused to sell. And in the midst of the discussion, they were startled to hear shots from outside the camp. Mohammed, the girls have been in camp. We must fire Al-Aqsaar into the river. Well, give us some guns, Clive. And I know how to shoot. No. If we fail, it would be better that I be able to give my words that you did not fight against Al-Aqsaar. We'll take our chances on that, Al-Fasher. No, I know what is best. You will not kick up an arm against the bandit. Why don't you let them come and just give them your money? Wouldn't that be better than having men on both sides killed? You do not understand. My damage is not my money. They come for money. Means nothing to Al-Aqsaar. But... No, it is Rashid they want. Rashid? Yes. But he has not caught me unprepared. Against the stay I long ago formed a plan. What do you mean? I have a cave dog. Big enough to hold a horse. It is well concealed. I will have Rashid hidden there. Hey, that's a good idea. Yeah, and it might work. Only won't they suspect you've just hidden him? I will tell him Rashid was taken to another with the others. Even if they look, they will not find where he's hidden. Oh, thank goodness. It would be awful for that beautiful animal to fall into the hands of a bandit. I will go find Mohammed and have him take Rashid to the cave. Then I must take up a rifle against the bandit. I'll come along. Maybe I can help Mohammed with Rashid. I was going to ask you if you would. Hey, what about Harriet and me? You will be safe here in my tent. Please do not leave. I sure hate to see the bandit take that beautiful animal. Mohammed, Mohammed, and I'll talk to the other. I can't, master. We are far outnumbered. You must get Rashid to the cave immediately. If any, Betty will help you. Do you understand? Yes, master. And the other master. Or they do not matter, leave them in their tents. Yes, master. Betty, when you and Mohammed have done this, please return to my tent and stay with the other. Okay, Al-Pasha. From the look of things, I'm afraid we spent no chance of keeping them out of the camp. But we will hold them off long enough for you to hide for Rashid. Go now. Right. Come on, Mohammed. Al-Pasha, can't hold them off much longer. We have surrendered, Al-Aqdaar. What is it you want from us? I think you know what I came for. And I live only when I have this stallion, Rashid. You will wait long then. Rashid has been taken to another. Lies! It is not a lie. Rashid isn't here. Silence, woman. Do you want your tongue cut out? Why? Fire, honey. He looks like the type that would do it. Al-Pasha, speak now. Where is Rashid? I told you, he has been taken to another. So, you forced me to make you tell the truth. Very well. Samad! Noswa! Tie him up securely. See your teeth! Take your hands off me. It is useless to struggle, Al-Pasha. You will hunt you down like the jackal you are, Al-Aqdaar. Go now. Yes, mother. I will deal with the proud sheikh myself. Hide what you are going to do. I don't know. Oh, no! Tell me where the stallion is. Never! Oh, God! Hold it, Al-Aqdaar. Stop. What? I'm something of a horse trader myself. I'll make a deal with you. A deal? If I tell you where the stallion is hidden, will you leave everything else and get out of here? Rishi! My word. I will take only the stallion and leave at the one. Okay. Rishi, no! Rashid is hidden in a cave. I'll show you where. Rishi! American fool! I'm sorry, but I can't stand by and see you torture me. What good fortune to have Americans present. I have heard your kind was soft. Now it is turned to my advantage. Come with me. If you're not lying, all will be well. If you are lying... Hold him there, Mohammed. Well, there he is, Al-Aqdaar. Ah, at last! The finest stallion in all of Abia. Let me see here. Yes, the black hand mark. This is a lucky omen. Now, I've done my part. The rest is up to you. Very well. I will get my men and leave at once. With Rishi. Good. I guess there's something to the old proverb at that. Huh? The old proverb? Yeah, the one about honor among thieves. Yes, I remember it. An excellent proverb. Almost as good as that other one. You ever hear the one that goes, don't take any wooden nickels? Don't take any wooden nickels? No. That's one I have not heard. But I do not have time to discuss problems. I have what I came for. I'd only did what he thought was right. It was not his place to speak. If he were of my race, I would kill him. Well, the scourge of the desert has taken off. Yes, it was in my rush. Well, at least that's what Al-Aqdaar thinks. What? I do not understand. He rode off on one of Rashid's sons, Elfashire. Mohammed and I worked a little switch. Ah, you mean that wasn't Rashid that was hidden in the cave? Exactly. But how? I thought there was a good chance they'd find out where the horse was hidden, so I talked Mohammed either helping me pick out one of Rashid's sons that looked exactly like him. But the black hand mark, to a man with a fountain pen full of ink, it was a very simple matter. Fountain pen? Ink? Baby? A thousand pardons? Rashid's over in the big pen with all the common horses. I hope you'll forgive me for that. Forgive you. I owe you a debt which I can never fully repay, but in an attempt to do so I must insist that you take ten of Rashid's descendants, the ones I refused to sell you a few hours ago. Oh, no, you don't need to do anything to reward it. Please, it is a small pay for what you have done. But Elfashire, you know we want to take them to America. My mind is at rest. They will be in good hands. Gee, that's great. I'm sure glad you painted up that other horse to look like Rashid. Yeah. Holy smoke. I just thought of something. Huh? Think of what might have happened if I'd had green ink in my pen instead of black. And now here is the star of our show, Clyde Batey. Luckily for me, my one and only attempt at being an artist instead of a lion trainer was a big success. There'll be another thrilling adventure to tell you the next time we meet. All stories are based upon incidents in the career of the world-famous Clyde Batey and the Clyde Batey Circus. The Clyde Batey show is produced and transcribed by Shirley Thomas. Written by Robert T. Smith and Frank Hartlowski. Music composed and conducted by Albert Glasser. All names used were fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. This is a Commodore production.