 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 sun of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of the end of the world. The equatorial sun was strong, and yet as it filtered down through the heavy foliage of the jungle, it was not uncomfortably hot. All was well with the world, and Tarzan was happy. At his side was Togo, the small native boy of whom he was so fond, and it had been arranged for Togo to spend the next moon with his tall white friend. Yes, it was a good life. Tarzan smiled down at Togo. You are a day's march away from Mama Nagana already, Togo. Are you sure you will not be lonesome? Togo not a day, Lo. Grow man now. Of course, of course. Only even grown men sometimes miss their home when they're away. Togo not miss home? We'll be too busy hunting elephants and panthers and wild boars. Well, we will have to hunt for food, and you will have a chance to practice your skill with your bow and arrow. But, Togo, you must remember this time that animals are to be killed only for food or in self-protection. Togo, remember? While Tarzan away, Togo protect tribe against Bulgani the gorilla and Numa the lion. Togo very brave and strong. Well, of course you are. But Tarzan is tired, so if Togo doesn't mind, we will have a short rest now. Well, if Tarzan tired... Oh, no, no, I wouldn't sit there, Togo. You're about to sit on Kota, the tortoise. Where? Kota? Is Kota dangerous? Tarzan... Oh, no, no, of course. Kota will not harm you. He has heard of Togo's reputation for strength and bravery, and even now he runs from you. You're not move very fast. Well, it's running for him. No, he won't hurt you, Togo, but I think that moss-covered log would make a better seed. Taking a rest wasn't a bad idea. Tarzan, you look funny. What is wrong? I thought I heard... Yes, it is the cry of Tantor, the elephant. He's angry. Tantor angry? This is strange. I catch the scent of the termungani, too. And yet an elephant seldom attacks a man. I must hurry to that spot. Someone is in grave trouble. Don't leave Togo. Of course I won't. Jump on my back and hold your arms around my neck as tightly as you can. And remember, we must both be brave, whatever happens. With the small native boy hanging on for dear life, Tarzan streaked through the jungle. When obstacles loomed in his path, he grasped the hanging vine and hurtled over them. Now the scent of the elephant and of termungani were closed. Breaking into a small clearing, Tarzan could see the man kneeling upon the ground. His hands folded in prayer, and rushing toward the helpless target was Tantor, gone mad. But at the sound of Tarzan's savage cry, the call of the bull-ape, the elephant swerved in its path and wheeled to face a new enemy. Now a charge straight at Tarzan and Togo. But just as it was about to strike, Tarzan grasped an overhanging vine and swung out of the path of the rampaging elephant. The termungani is Mr. Martin, the missionary. Thank thee, Father, for sending Tarzan to save me. My prayers were answered, and I may yet be of service. Mr. Martin, take care of the boy. I must capture the rogue elephant before he kills anybody. Oh, no, let the animal go. What? You are man of the cloth, and yet you tell me to let a rogue elephant run free to murder all in his path? There is a far greater threat to life on the rampage. I have traveled many days to find you, Tarzan. Only you can save the people of the jungle from this new threat. My instincts tell me to follow that elephant, to kill him before he kills others. Believe me, the enemy of which I speak is greater. Even now the talking drums of the jungle spread the message of horror, and soon there will be ought in the jungle safe panic. In just a moment we shall return to our story of Tarzan. They formed a strange picture, those three in the tiny clearing of the jungle, a small native boy with round, wandering eyes, by his side Tarzan, bronzed and powerful, and before them the slender, aesthetic-looking missionary, the Reverend Thaddeus Martin. As you know, Tarzan, I've devoted my life to missionary work the last eight years among the people of the Negalia tribe. You have done much good work, Mr. Martin. But you've not told me of the danger that you say threatens the whole jungle. We'll have patience just a moment, Tarzan. I'm getting to that. Oh, I'm sorry. Torgo, sorry too. What have you done to be sorry for, Torgo? Torgo did nothing, but if Tarzan's sorry, Torgo's sorry. All right, all right. Now we're both sorry. We will both be patient while Mr. Martin tells us his story. Well, as I was saying, I've spent eight years among the Negalias. To all outward appearances they had become good Christians in their way. But a few weeks ago they came to me with a fantastic story that we're soon to witness, The End of the World. The End of the World? They've deserted my small church and they've returned to their pagan gods. Each night the jungle throbs with their frenzied drums and their maniacal dances. The Negalias' old dances? A kind you will never see, I hope. It's spreading, Tarzan. Their talking drums have broadcast the fear to other tribes. And by the time the full moon has come, my work of eight years has come. My work of eight years will be wiped out and my people will return to complete savagery. But what can I do? Well, perhaps you can find out what and who is behind all of this. It's not the witch doctors, nor the snake men, nor the porcupine men. That much I know. But who else could originate such an idea, The End of the World? Oh, I don't know. I've questioned everyone in the tribe. They are too frightened to tell me anything. Mr. Martin, I will come with you. I will see what I can find out. But first I must return Torgot to his people. The delay of a few days might mean The End of the World in a different sense, but violence may break out at any moment. If End of World comes, Tarzan, it's not matter whether Torgot home in Land of Punyas or in Land of the Negalias. Every minute counts. Well, if this panic is spreading as rapidly as you say, Torgot will be no safer at home than with me. If you are ready, Mr. Martin, we will start for the Land of the Negalias. All that day, Tarzan and Torgot and the Reverend Martin marched through the jungle. Several times Tarzan caught the scent of the rogue elephant, but there were more important things at hand. That night they rested briefly, and by noon of the next day they approached the crawl of the Negalias. To all appearances, it was indeed the village of a people awaiting death. In the Shamba, weeds choked out the young corn. Rodents overran the narrow paths between the cone-shaped huts, and the huts themselves were those of a people too sick in mind or body to care for their homes or their children. This is the site that meets the eye by day, Tarzan. At night there is abandon. You still have a room for sleeping attached to your small church? Yes, of course. It's but a short walk from the village. And if you will take Torgot there, I prefer to talk to the people along. Torgot, I want to leave Tarzan. I may need your help later, Torgot. It would be better if you were well rested. All right, then. Come, Torgot. Peace go with you, Tarzan. Peace with you, Tarzan. What white men want? Negalias not want white men. Wait, not wait. End well, come soon. All white men go to Lubuga, Vassia, Vassa. I have no intention of going to the inferno in the near future. The end of the world is not at hand. The sign's plain. End world, come at full moon. Your breath smells of much congala and your words are those of a man congala has robbed of reason. Where is your chief? Me, Sir Barley, chief of Negalias. What do you want? I am Tarzan, lord of the jungle. I come because you spread fear through the land. This false story of the end of the world. Is true. You white men, all white men enemies. Tarzan is your friend. He takes the armlet from his arm and gives it to you as a sign of friendship. Sir Barley, not take. There's no ornament to give in place. You speak in truth. You wear no ornament. There is hardly an armlet or a nose ring or anklet among your men. What is the reason for this? Tarzan asked too many questions. Better end his world now. Wild elephants run for life. Tarzan stalking Tarzan's party ripped through the village with savage fury. Native huts and scattered debris fill the air. The natives ran in all directions, escaping through some fantastic miracles. And high in a tree, Tarzan watched the sea. He could not spare time even now to hunt the deranged pachyderm. For his eyes must remain upon Ugar, a one native in the village who still wore ornaments of metal. That night, when the tribe had dropped from exhaustion after hours of reveling, he saw Ugar walk from the crawl. Tarzan followed him and saw him enter a crude cabin several miles away. The lord of the jungle crept to a battered window and peered in. The native quake as he stood before a white man. Well, it's about time you got here, Ugar. Expect me to stay up all night? Came soon I could. What did you bring this time? Here. Many rings, bracelets. A bunch of junk. Why didn't you bring some good stuff? Not much left in village. Already you have most. There's still plenty. You see this coin? In the deep. Now watch. I wave my hands and it's gone. So. Where'd it go? The great Zaker has caused it to be no more. I am the greatest magician alive and if you don't bring me some real stuff tomorrow night, I'll make you disappear in exactly the same way. Tomorrow night, Ugar, try to bring more. What you see in crystal ball today, great Zaker? The end of the world grows close and if you die before I make peace for you, you'll go to the land of demons. No, no, don't send Ugar to land of demons. Our people send you all of rings and other ornaments. Ah, you'd better. You see this handkerchief? The D. What color is it? God. Red. Now I pass it through my hands. Green. So can I change the fate of your people. When the full moon comes, you will go to the land of your ancestors or to the land of the demons. It's entirely up to me. Now, I want every coin and piece of jewelry in the village. I'm paying you for them. How much you pay for what Ugar bring tonight? You've told no one outside of your tribe about me. No, I swear. Good. I shall pay you ten bottles of kangala. Here, take them. Let your chief distribute it. Go now. I go. Now that's another tidy sum of... Don't turn around or you'll feel the steel of my knife. Who are you? What do you want? I am Tarzan. Now that I see your game, I want a great deal. Yeah, sure. We can make a deal. The same deal you're giving the natives, trading cheap whiskey for their jewelry? They get their monies' worth. What do you suppose a bunch of this native junk is worth? I should say that the native junk, much of it made of pure gold and set with precious and semi-precious stones, should be worth a good deal of money in distant ports. Okay, so I found a good thing. Look, let me turn around and talk to you. I don't talk so well when I've got my back to a man. You can turn around, but my knife remains unsheathed. Sure, sure. Well, so you're Tarzan. I've heard a lot about you. You will hear more unless you go to the native village with me and admit that your stories of the end of the world are nothing more than part of your magician's act. No, you're wrong. My prediction is true. I sought my crystal ball. I don't know where your crystal ball came from, but I know the amateurish tricks you showed the simple native tonight can be bought in any bazaar in the country for a few coppers. You speak hastily. I speak with knowledge. Such tricks are advertised in magazines in many countries and can be ordered by mail. Well, a few of them perhaps, but I also have many important feats of magic. Let me show you this one here. Stay at arm's length from me. Sure, sure. Observe, my friend Tarzan, a great feat of magic, a mystical accomplishment of Legend of May. You see this glass of water? Yes, I see it. I pour into it this small amount of white powder. So... And now the water is red. I suppose you're going to tell me that you have turned water into wine. I think that's the usual speech that goes with that trick. Oh, that's not the end of the trick. Watch carefully. Keep your eyes on the glass. See? Now I take the glass in my hand and I... Oh, my eyes! My eyes! I've been blinded! You see, Tarzan, you were wrong all along. I have some fine tricks and you were wrong, too, about my prediction of the end of the world. It will come soon... for you. In just a moment, we shall return to our story. In the small shack of Zaker the Great, Tarzan sat on the edge of a soiled cot, his head hanging and held between his great hands. His legs were shackled to a thick iron ring in the wall. But this did not bother him nearly so much as the horror of blindness. The loss of one's eyesight is a tragedy to anyone, but it seemed an even more overwhelming catastrophe to one whose life was spent in the wiles of the jungle. For once, Tarzan was beaten. You want something to eat or not? No. No, nothing to eat. You really ought to, you know. I fixed a mighty tasty dinner. A bit late for dining, perhaps, but I've had a lot of things to get ready for tonight. This is the night of the full moon? Oh, yes. Yes, there's a nice full moon. Too bad you can't see it. Say, this is good. Sure, you don't want anything to eat or drink? Got a couple of full bottles here yet? I want nothing. Seeing this is your last night on earth, you're sort of upsetting a tradition. A condemned man supposed to eat a hearty meal. Well, if you condemn me, why don't you go ahead and kill me? Why are you dragging out the torture? I've got a little plan for you. You're going to help me get rich. I don't know what fantastic plan you have, but what good will riches do you if, as you claim, this is the end of the world? Oh, you didn't really go for that stuff. No, no. The natives did, though, but they're stubborn. They still haven't told me where they got the gold they make those ornaments of. So, once again, gold is the source of trouble. You should see some of the nuggets they've used to make necrosis. A few hours in the place where they get them and I'll be fixed for life. By the morning, the natives will know that you have told them nothing but lies, for the world will still be here. But I won't. By the time this term is abated, I'll be well on my way to Mombasa. A storm? I hear no storm. Zakir the Great, in addition to his magic, is also a student of science. Between my almanac and my barometer, I've made out that tonight there will be a great equatorial storm. But what has that to do with... I've built for this for weeks now. The Nagalya's expect the end of the world. When the storm breaks, they'll be sure it's come. Then I will enter their village with proof that I, Zakir the Great and powerful overall, then they will tell me where the mine is. They will do anything I command. And the proof you speak of? I will be leading the lord of the jungle on a chain. And they will find that the man no one else has been able to conquer, has been transformed by Zakir the Great into a weak, crawling, blind creature. Torgo and the Reverend Martin had come to the village of the Nagalyas searching in vain for some trace of Tarzan. They could find nothing. Nor could they extract any sort of an answer from the drunken, frenzied savages who danced about the Tribals. They could find nothing. Nor could they extract any sort of an answer from the drunken, frenzied savages who danced about the Tribal Files. It's no use, Torgo. They won't listen to us. Must find Tarzan. My resources are the name. I hate to admit failure, but... Torgo not at the end of his horses. Torgo has strong teeth. Torgo, what are you doing? Ow! Oh, you devil boy. What did you do? You bite Ugar's leg. Boy, gag and title-staken center-counsel ring. You're not tying the boy up, Sibali. Take boy away. Sibali, surely you have not forgotten all of the teachings of our Lord? Not Lord of Nagalyas. He not stop end of world. There will be no end of this world tonight. The full moon has come and still is... His end of world. Like Seiko, the great Se, end of world here. Let me get to the boys. Stop, thee boy alone. You not good. Tell us many lies. I'm going to get that boy if it's the last thing I know. May you pick up missionary. Drag him to Hima. Let missionary stay on ground where he is. Look, Seiko the great com. Brings prisoner. His Tarzan. Friends, at the end of the world has come that Seiko has told the truth. His truth. And now I call your attention to this weak crawling creature. His Tarzan. Yes, his Lord of Jungle. No longer is he Lord of anything. I have taken his power in his sight. It is a sign. Seiko the great has power over all of you. He will deliver you to the land of happiness or he will send you to the demons. Don't send you demons. Save us. If I am to save you from the demons, you must have no secrets from me. Where is the gold mine? Another moment and it'll be too late to answer. Now tell white man where gold. I warn you, unless you answer at once, you'll go to your doom like Tarzan. Blind and helpless. No, not blind. I'll take like Tarzan. We tell. Place where we get gold is behind. The lightning and the thunder and the screaming have brought the wild elephant to fever pitch. As he entered the village, threes were smashed as though they were matchsticks. The boma was torn aside by enormous yellow tusks. Native huts were demolished. Parties were picked up in the great leathery trunk and then hurtled through space. Those about the council fire ran for their lives. Save for a small native boy who was tied in gag, a man of God who lay unconscious on the ground, a blinded giant, and a man to whom he was chained. And then the miracle happened. The elephant grasped Zaker in his trunk, breaking the chain that held him to Tarzan. Zaker was thrown against a huge rock and then the mad animal charged in the direction of Torgall. Torgall! How's your saying you, Torgall? Tarzan staggered a few steps. His arms outstretched in the gesture of the blind. And then suddenly the hands came down. He grasped his knife and hurtled himself through space. A moment before the elephant reached Torgall, Tarzan catapulted at the animal his knife, rising and falling, stabbing, twisting, piercing, killing. The gag out of mouth just contained. We must see if Mr. Martin is... Oh, there he is, on the ground. Mr. Martin, Reverend Martin! Wake up! Wake up! Torgall, down in this cloth, in a small stream, right there. Hurry! Surely heaven has protected you, Mr. Martin. I see the Prince of Tantor's hooves not an inch from your head. You're closer to this big cloth. Something. Maybe this will do some good. Mr. Martin, tell me that you're all right. Tarzan? Yes. Yes, it is Tarzan. Tarzan, who must tell you the story of a miracle. Do they come, Tarzan? Yes. Come men of Nagalia. Your friend and teacher wishes to speak to you. I... I think most of them are here now, Tarzan. Those who are left. Chief Sebali? Man of Nagalia? Once again, you have been hurt by the greed and evil of a white man. But just as there are good and bad black men, so there are good and bad white men. The evil Zaker is dead. The good Reverend Martin lives. Tarzan, who is a friend to all in the jungle, begs you to hear him. Speak, missionary. Brothers, for a little while you were misled by a man who showed you tricks. Man made miracles. This morning, as the sun shines down on us, we realize that miracles cannot be made by man. In the darkness and the rain some strange things happened here. A small boy who was bound found great strength and managed to tear a gag from his mouth. A deranged animal ran wild and yet his footsteps were guided so that I might be spared to help you. And a man who was blind was permitted to see again because he was needed. Perhaps men of science might explain this phenomenon. They would use words that I understand no better than you. Words like adrenaline and shock and stimuli. But I think all of us have a much more simple explanation. Reverend Martin, some your words we not understand. But what you mean? We understand much. I do not think you ever really believed the world was to end for if you had, there would have been no need to run from the elephant. Now we believe only what Mr. Martin teaches us many years. If you believe, join me in the prayer I have taught you. Our Father, we charge in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy holy dawn in earth as it is in heaven. We give you those who say our name, for give us all the best as we forgive you our letters and leave us not into temptation but deliver us from evil for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory for ever. Amen. In just a moment we shall return to tell you about Tarzan. The girl had sung in a low, vibrant voice but it was not the magnetism of her song alone but the terror in her eyes that brought Tarzan to her aid. With enemies in constant pursuit ever threatening to still the lovely voice forever and to kill Tarzan for his interference he manages to delay her inevitable fate as he guides her across a continent in our next story. Tarzan, a transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs was a white junior prepared for radio by Bud Lesser with original music by Albert Lesser. This is a Commodore production.