 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 drum without a heart. As everyone knows, most of Africa swelters beneath the tropical sun. And yet in the very heart of Central Africa, astride the equator, is the ruins or a mountain range that is never without snow and ice and raging torrents of glacial rivers. In a small cafe in Nairobi, there was a man whose great ambition it was to climb ruins or a. No, with Jean LeClaire, it was more than an ambition. It was a passion. I tell you, it has been done. It can be done again. Yeah, by the Amon Pasha Relief Expedition. By the British Museum Expedition. By a few others with fantastic sums of money to spend on many equipment. But Deutsche is only 17,000 feet? Only. Well, I've climbed peaks almost that high before. Yeah, and so have I. Higher peaks even. But Alaska and Switzerland and South America are not African. But if other people have done it now. I told you, LeClaire, those expeditions had every known piece of equipment. And even then, many of them didn't reach any of the peaks. Of course, if you are satisfied with a partialist... No, no, I'm not. Whether or not you agree to go with me, I intend reaching the summit of those mountains. And neither the elements nor animals nor man is going to keep me from achieving my purpose. Oh, you haven't a chance. Ruin, sorry. Oh, you're crazy, LeClaire. Maybe? Maybe just crazy enough to accomplish it. It was strange that in a land of incessant heat, in a country where men used to the jungle had almost forgotten that other climates existed, the snowy peaks of Ruinsore should have been the subject of another conversation. One that was taking place far from Nairobi in the tiny native village of the Punya tribe. But Tarzan, many mahogany trees grow in Ruinsore. Yes, Kuluk, but the land is dangerous. Animals, warlike savages, snow and ice. What snow, Ice Tarzan? Well, Togo, snow and ice are... Well, they're cold. Cold? It's a little hard to explain. Snow is like rain, only different. It's, uh... He's not clear. Maybe take Togo with us when go Ruinsore? I can see no need to travel to the mountains of Ruinsore. The missionary school can be built of bamboo or other woods that grow near here. We promised missionary best building in land if he come here. We build school of mahogany. Natal mahogany come from Ruinsore. Well, if you've made up your mind that we must have Natal mahogany, I'll go with you, Kuluk. Tarzan, take Togo. Show him snow, ice, mahogany. No, this is one trip I can't take you on, Togo. Never before have I been to a land as dangerous as this. But take Togo, please. Take Togo, Ruinsore. Oh, no, I'm sorry, but I can't... But Togo hate Tarzan. Tarzan mean. Not like Tarzan anymore. Togo, safe on trip if Tarzan there? Well, perhaps if I could secure the skins of animals with heavy coats so that Togo would not freeze on the trip. Kuluk, grown man for he see snow. Nice for boy to see. Yes, I guess you're right, Kuluk. I tell Togo. No, no, no. Let's keep it as a surprise. Yes, we make surprise. I'll leave the village now and I'll do some hunting. When I've secured warm skins and cured them, I shall return here for Togo and you. We will go to the land of Ruinsore. And even as the mountain climbers left Nairobi to start in their expedition, and as Tarzan and Kuluk in the Punya village planned their journey to Ruinsore, the natives there, perhaps the most fierce of all of Africa's savages, beat their voodoo drum. Violence was in the making. God of Ruinsore angry, not smile upon our people. He's true, mighty chief. Each moon are less of great trees. And when Arna more trees, people of Ruinsore not able trade for food, for hats, for other things they need. We beat voodoo drums to God of Ruinsore. But he not here. Why? Why? Because drum not have heart. It against law of white man now to give heart to drum. We listen law, white man, or voice God of Ruinsore. We cannot anger God too much. Then we give heart to drum. I, great witch doctor of Ruinsore, look into smoke from ceremonial fire. What you see? Ah, see strangers come our land. See heart for drum. In just a moment we shall continue with our story, the drum without a heart. In the next few days many animals contributed their lives so that warm clothing would be available for the trip to Ruinsore. And then Tarzan went home to cure the skins and fashion the garments. He was far from the Punya village when the white men who intended to climb Ruinsore's peaks neared the Boma of the Punya call. Well, perhaps here we can obtain some bearers. Ah, they won't have any more luck here than we did in Nairo, Bior. Any of the other native villages along the way. You just can't get these natives to go to Ruinsore. Then we'll go alone. We've done all right so far. Ah, so far. But two men to attempt Ruinsore. I still think you're crazy, Leclerc. Then why did you come along? I don't know, unless it's because I'm crazy too. Hey, attendez un moment. Here, a native. Chambord, white man. Ah, du du. Bonjour. That is your village ahead. Nadio is village Punya people. You need supplies, water? We already have as many supplies as we can carry, and we filled our water bags only a few miles back. But we would like to hire some bearers and guides. Not today. Some Punya men on safari now. Some on hunting trip. Others start build missionary school. All busy. Well, Leclerc, our luck's still holding. And at least we didn't mention our destination this time, so you can't blame it on any fear of the Ruinsore. You go Ruinsore? Well, yes. Why? I go Ruinsore a few days. Wait now for Tarzan. What's that? Tarzan, lord of jungle. He hear a few days, then we guide you Ruinsore. You wait. Well, that looks like a good idea. Maybe yes, maybe no. How long do you call a few days? Not no. Tarzan come here when hides cured. Warm clothes made. Well, you know these jungle people, Dutch, that might mean weeks and months even. Well, I suppose you're right. Well, thanks anyway. Maybe we'll see you there. Yes, that's as likely as bumping into someone in the desert. Good luck, white men. Good luck on Ruinsore. Well, thank you, Santa. For a minute there I thought maybe we'd stumbled on some help. But what's that? I don't know. Coming from those bushes. Watch out, Dutch. It might be a snake. A snake, eh? Little native boys. A cute one, too. Did you go Ruinsore? Well, somebody's been eavesdropping. Please, Torgo wants the ice snow. Take Torgo with you to Ruinsore. Well, you know, it might not be a bad idea to that. But to take a small boy on a trip like that? Well, he probably knows something of the country between here and there. Do you? Yes, yes. Torgo, no way. Ah, see? And now having a native boy with us will prove to any savages we meet that we are friendly to the blacks. Ah, it might. Torgo, brave, too. To take you from big animals. All right, Mr. Torgo. We'll take you with us to Ruinsore. Maybe you'll bring us good luck. I have an idea. We're going to need it. What do you mean, Torgo's gone? Gone where? Not no. One minute here. Next minute, not here. When was the last time you saw him? Not remember, exactly. Thought maybe it was with you. Mama Nagamo worry. So tell her Torgo, go with Torgo. Fine, fine. So then no one's looked for him, eh? He'll be all right. He knows jungle. Yes, he knows the jungle, but he's just a small boy. Now try to remember the last time you saw him. Think maybe it was day white men here. Four or five days ago. White men in Punya village? Look for porters, guides. Kurok tell them all Punya men busy. They go away. You suppose they could have taken Torgo? Oh, no, white men not take small boy on trip Ruinsore. The Tarman Ghanis were going to the Ruinsore mountains? Nadil. Leave me to where you encountered these white men. It will not be easy to follow a spore many days old, but we must try. I have a strange feeling that their spore will be combined with that of Torgo. We follow them Ruinsore? Yes, we will follow them even that far if we find that Torgo's trail also leads in that direction. We go Ruinsore. We get mahogany for missionary school. If we can arrange to get the mahogany, fine. But the life of that boy is far more important to me. Under most circumstances, Tarzan and Kula might easily have overtaken white men. But this time it was most difficult. True, Torgo's trail proved that he was with the Tarman Ghanis, but often the spore was faint and many hours were lost trying to determine the exact direction the strangers had taken. With four or five days lead, the well-experienced travelers remained far ahead. Now the Ruinsore mountains loomed in the distance. Its many snow-clad peaks seeming to defy man to conquer them. And as Tarzan and Kula pressed virally onward, a light snow began to spiral down. Snow. Snow Zuri. There's nothing pretty about it when you stop to think of what it means. Means? It will destroy every sign that they've left, every spore. And even should we draw close to them, it will blot out their scent. Only thing to do, keep head for Ruinsore. Are we to comb the entire 45 miles of its length? Are we to scale every peak and take us a year? What we do? Well, we're not sure what the white men seek or why they saw a fit to take Torgo along, but they could belong to that strange group that climbs mountains for the mere sake of climbing them. White men do that? Yes. And if they belonged to that strange cult, they would attempt the highest peak, Mount Stanley. Stanley? Yes, it's the Tarman Ghani's name for our finger in the sky. So? Even our warm clothing will be little protection there. We have no ropes or metal-tipped staffs to help us in our climb. But we must attempt it, Kula. Nadio Tarzan, must save Torgo. Storm gets worse. Much bad. Maybe you'd better turn back, Kuluk. It isn't fair for me to ask you to risk your life for Torgo. He put your boy. To me, he's been like a son, but to you... We go on. Not waste time. Words. Shots. Not far off? That's fantastic, but somehow we've stumbled under their fat. Come on, Kuluk, run. They're being attacked by something. They above us. Approach. Here, let me help you. Now, watch your footing. If you slip, you'll fall thousands of feet. There must be dozens of them. Let us know you're shooting. I can't see them running up the storm. Sound like panthers. No, I don't think so. Look, white men, big cats above them, ready to spring. Wild cats. Stand still, Kuluk. Use full arrow for slow. I can hardly see them, but it's the only thing I can do now. That's one of them. You get one, all right. Don't look there. Someone's shooting at them. Whoever is shooting has an eye like a... Well, that's the third. Not see any more wild cats. All dead. Well, it's natives. We are friendly men. They mean you no harm. They come here only to climb... It's not important why you are here. That one's a white man. What? Our only concern is for Torgol, the native boy. Where is he? Heard I was some shooting. Three serval cats with three arrows. Answer me. What have you done with Torgol? We haven't done anything with him. We gave him warm clothing. We fed him well. I shall ask you only once more. Where is he? We couldn't help ourselves. There must have been 20 of them. Had we offered any resistance, who were there 20 of them? Savages with bones through their noses and discs inserted in their lower lips. Hideous creatures. The fiercest ones I'd ever encountered. And still they did nothing to Deutch and me. What did they do to Torgol? They did nothing to him in our presence. They just mumbled something about a drum without a heart. And then they made off with the boy. In just a moment the exciting conclusion to our story of the drum without a heart. As Tarzan and Kuluk stood facing Leclerc and Deutch, the fury of the storm increased and the snow whipped across their faces with racial fury. At first the mountain climbers had been afraid of the jungle man, but now their fear of the storm was greater and they defied Tarzan. We are not going through this storm just to try to find some native village, but without you we could not recognize the savages you claim made off with Torgol. Do you know what they meant by a drum without a heart? No, I didn't, but I've been wondering. Some tribes use a drum with which to pray to their God and making the drum they hollow out a tree. When it's nearly finished they send a small boy into the drum to finish scooping out the wood at the very end with his hand. Yes. Before it can finish and come out they clamp the head on the drum, a strong hide that a boy cannot break through. It's true, it's costum many tribes. It's unbelievable. The boy remains in the drum until he is dead and he remains there afterwards. This is the heart of the drum, the element that makes it sound pleasing to their God, or so they think. Leclerc, we'll have to join them in trying to save Togo. I am not turning back. I came to climb to the very top of Ruinsori and that's what I'm going to do. You will never live to reach the top unless you come with me. You may come of your own accord or with my knife at your back. Many miles away from the four strangers to the mighty Ruinsoris, the savages who had long made the mountain country their home met in solemn shawry. At last they had secured a heart for their drum. Men have drum ready, which doctor? Almost his time for a boy to finish. Togo, now what? Togo in when time come. Togo, God, not like snow ice. Be still. Must not say not like snow ice. But Togo not like. You and God Ruinsori, he make great trees to die. Togo not care, hope trees die. Not say that, not say. Now must make boy pure before becomes heart. You be sorry, small boy. Now must have ceremony, else you not make good heart for drum. Togo not know what you mean heart for drum, but he not like. Which doctor? Get things we need for ceremony. Then boy change what he say about snow, ice, great trees, Ruinsori. Yes, when boy through ceremony he not defy God. He be meek, quiet, obedient. Well, at least the storm has stopped. And what good is it going to do us now? The snow is already blotted out every footprint. When they left us they headed in this direction, all right. But that's as much as we know. You say there were about 20 of them and yet they made no sound? Seems likely to me that they must have taken this path. Had they been forced to break through the underbrush, you would have heard them. And that makes sense. I will go on in this direction for a while. Clair, what makes a man want to climb mountains? I don't know. A desire to overcome great obstacles, a natural urge for man to climb upwards. An inherent wish. That's like the question why does a chicken cross the road? Look Tarzan, river. So the path ends in a raging river. Well, I guess we can't go in. The path continues on the other side. You can see that the snow is just a little darker in one spot there. Even if the path continues over there we have no boat to cross the river. We'll have to swim. In that current? Through the ice flow? Now it would be suicide. Perhaps if I swam across, I could fasten your long climbing rope on one of those high trees over there. If you secured the other end to a higher point over here, the rest of you might be able to slide across on that rope. That's a possibility. But you'd arrive there vet and freezing. Then you'd have to climb a tree and fasten the rope. We could bring you some reasonably dry clothes when we slid across, but by that time... You'd die of cold Tarzan. Better to die of cold than of cowardice. Give me one end of the rope. Tarzan took the rope in his mouth and plunged into the seething river. His mighty arms flailed the water. His strong legs drove him forward, but the mighty raging current of the river pulled him back. Large jagged pieces of ice feet against him. Pieces of floating timber battered his body. At times the men on the shore held their breath as Tarzan was dragged down momentarily. But his mighty courage made him fight on and at last he reached the opposite shore. Half frozen he climbed a great tree and fastened the rope. Then he fell to the ground exhausted, beaten, bleeding. Here, pile the rest of the hides on him now. Maybe we built fire? Ah, even if we could find any dry wood, we wouldn't dare chance it. Those savages might be even closer than we think. How are his wounds? I know. Stop bleeding. It's the cold that... Have to reach our side. Have to... You reached the other side, Tarzan. The rest of us have slid across now. Save, Togo. Have to save, Togo. There are no conditions to go on. You'll have to rest. Rest after, Togo. Safe. No, no, no, no. Don't try to get up. Let me go look there. Maybe it is better if he gets up. He stays there underground, he'll freeze to death. I hear there's ceremonial drums now. There are no drums. Guess maybe you're a little delirious. I hear the drums. If there were drums, the rest of us would hear them. Tarzan hears sound of ant walking hundreds feet away. He say he heard drum, he hear. Follow me. Be careful you do not step on a twig or stumble on a rock. A slight sound could silence us all forever. I hear... Yes, I can hear the drums now. Yes, the camp is right below us, see. Begin snow again. Can you recognize any of the natives about their council fire? No, not through this fog, I can't. It's not fog, it's clouds, we're right up in them. Yes. They're dressed the same as those who took the boy. They wear the same ornaments. Those discs in their lower lips, those bones through their noses. Look, in the center of the council ring. A huge log. The new drum they're making. The one that requires a heart. It doesn't seem to have any hide across it. Maybe the boy is still alive. I can't see him. Many of their ceremonies last all night and reached their high point at dawn. Perhaps their saving Torgo until the end. And a great number of them. I don't know what we can do. All right, I'm still weak. Had I my strength I could risk an attack even against their large number. But now I... Deutsche and I have rifles. They're both automatic loaders so we could pick off quite a few of these clouds lifted. And you, you have your bow and arrow. No, no, no, we couldn't risk that. Our aim might not be good in this snow covered land. And the first thing they might do would be to kill Torgo. Besides, I doubt if the clouds will lift before dawn. Well, well, if we don't use our guns, what then? We shall have to use our heads. Clouds get thicker. Good. We'll cover our actions. What actions? Just beyond the protection of these trees, we're going to build snowmen. Are you crazy? Perhaps he is still delaying this. I know, I know. It sounds mad. Perhaps it is. But it's the only thing I can think of. We must build as many snowmen as we can between now and dawn. We must find die routes to color them so that they resemble people. And we must find wood and fashion many rifles. If the clouds lift enough so that the natives can see the figures, they will think we have a large army. And if the clouds lift too, suddenly they'll recognize the snowmen for what they are. In that case, you three will have to run for your lives. We three? Well, how about you? I shall be in the camp of the Ruinsari people. It is dawn. Time to give heart to drummen. Small boy, ready. Not fight now. What do you want Togo do? Just climb into log here. You small, you get in. Scoop out loose wood, end of log. So log is hollow, make fine drum. Nadeal, Togo do his teeth tomorrow. Wait, Togo! Do not enter that log, you know? Tarzan! First stop song, let drum be still. Who are you? Where you come from? I am Tarzan, a white man, and I am the leader of a mighty army. I have come to take Togo from you. Oh, my boy! Do not take boy from us. I have come alone and unarmed to show that I am not angry. But should you harm that boy or me, my soldiers will destroy your village. Where soldiers? In the hill, directly above your village. They have many thundersticks, and they can destroy you quickly. Oh, my boy, here's two. Through clouds, sea, many men, all with thundersticks. But we let boy go. God ruins very angry. Even now, less trees each year. You must pass a law among your people. Each time they fell a tree, they must plant two seeds so that new trees will grow. This will please your God. He will make your forests grow rich. You speak Wesley. And we not want war with white man thundersticks. Go, take boy. Tarzan! Santa, man of Ruanzari. You have acted wisely. Put head on drum. Beat loud. So all people come. We tell new rule. Two seeds for each tree cut is new law, Ruanzari. Path's part here. We go Pungi village. Without mahogany for missionary school. We brought a pupil back. I think that's more important. The missionary will understand. You didn't get your mahogany, and we didn't accomplish our mission. We returned to Nairobi without having climbed to Ruanzari's peak. No, we won't be able to brag about conquering the greatest of Africa's mountains, but we will have a story. A story, Leclerc? The story of a drum without a heart and of a jungle savage with a great one. We'll be back to tell you about our next story of Tarzan in just a moment. Only when Kuda, the sun, has completed its ride across the heavens and only on those nights when Goro the moon does not shine brightly, do the strange creatures that inhabit the caves of Gunica emerge from the sable darkness of their dwellings. Then their pale eyes gleam from the blackness, and all who enter their Congo stronghold learn of terror at night. Tarzan, the transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs is produced by Walter White Jr., prepared for radio by Bud Leccer with original music by Albert Glasser. This is a Commodore production.