 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 times 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 black gold of Africa. It formed a strange picture, that curious admixture of modern and ancient in a corner of Saudi Arabia. Oil derricks of modern steel dotted the horizon as far as the eye could see. But huddled beneath the metal skeletons, their laziest city as old as the Orient. Curio dealers leaned against their carts, beggars dozed in shadowed doorways. The city drowsed with the indolence of Asia. A few men in soiled white linen lounged on the piazza in front of the land office. Suddenly its door flew open. A man darted out, others followed, their guns blazing as they pursued the lone figure down the white street. They almost got me. This is fine. There, there they go. How do you know about this place, Governor? You saved my life. That is something one does not expect from a stranger. You're no stranger to me, Governor. I've been waiting all day for you. But for a minute I thought you might have had the other way when I chased you. I knew they'd be chasing you. Who are you? And just what do you know? Pardon me for skipping the introductions. Name's Herbert Graves, Governor. And of course you're the Honorable Alexis Barrett. And it is some gentleness down don't think you're so honorable. Just what do you mean by that? I mean, some folks don't think it's tricker to take money from one government to develop oil fields and then sell out to another government. You know too much. For two cents I... I wouldn't file a gun, Governor. Your friends would be back this way before you knew I'd hit you. Eh, what's at the back of your mind? You said you'd been waiting here for me all day. Why? Well, I figured you might need some help, mighty. And Herbert Graves is always one to help a friend. For a price. And what is your price? You find out, mighty. And you'd better go along with Herbert Graves, little planner. All your copper faster than you can go through a pound note at the Savoy Bar. Crazy, I tell you. I don't know anything about gold mining. You're an engineer, aren't you? Yes, but I've spent my whole life in the oil industry. Yes, I know, Governor. But you've got money and you're no engineer. And if you won't join me, you're gonna join your maker. I can make a tidy sum turnin' you over to the government. And don't you forget it. Ah, then do we leave? That's better. We leave tonight, Governor. We take the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden and then we go along the African coast until we reach Mombaza. We buy our equipment there and then head for the Middle Congo. The Middle Congo? That's right, mighty. And now that you're sure and sense, I'll let you see the map. Yeah, this is where they say there's gold. The southern part of French Equatorial Africa? That's Tarzan's country. Tarzan? Never heard of a bloke with that name. I have. He killed my brother. He did. Watch him now. My enthusiasm for your venture increases now, Mr. Graves. Perhaps you can find your gold and I can avenge my brother's death. And Romney, I don't want to get mixed up in no killings. If I'm any judge of character, you're no stranger to crime. I'll help you find the gold all right. And you'll help me kill Tarzan. If I need any help. Now look up now, order. Now I really don't expect to need you. Actually, there are two things I know a great deal about. Oil and murder. We shall return to our story in just a moment. In the upper level of jungle growth, Tarzan rested in the crotch of a tree watching the amusing antics of the monkeys. The man who's always delighted him. He smiled broadly and filled his lungs with the warm, sweet air of spring. Suddenly he tensed. In that air was the scent of the Gomungane, the scent of a native, perhaps an unfriendly one. He swung from tree to tree until he was directly over the spot from which the scent had come and then he dropped to the ground. It's you, Nagama. At first I feared enemies. Were Nagama enemies? She could not have been frightened more. I'm sorry I frightened you. But I hardly expected to find a woman roaming in the jungle alone. Nagama had to come alone, Tarzan. You had to come alone? Why? If Punya chief and warriors find Nagama looks for Tarzan to help in time of trouble, they're much angry. But I've always been happy to help the Punyas. Punya's proud people, Tarzan. Not like to come running to White Brother with problems. Nothing's wrong with Targo. No, Nagama's son as well as rest. But all of Punya's have trouble. Since great dry spell, coffee or corn grows poorly. Curl all the cow, gives little milk, and the people need many things. But surely the jungle abounds in fruit and game and all else you require? That not enough. Missionaries teach us use of White Man's medicine and books and other things. And to have these, Punyas must have money. Oh, money causes real troubles, Nagama. But if you really want it, why do you not dig the gold the Tamangani everlastingly seeks? Gold deep in caves cannot dig without much expensive tools. Since sample to mining company in White Man's city, no message is returned. It is well that the Tamangani's do not answer your message. Still you have a problem, and Tarzan will attempt to help you solve it. Tarzan guided Nagama as far as the edge of the Punya's village, and then he returned to his lair. As night fell, he turned his eyes to the sky, searching for an answer to the problem of his black brothers. And then suddenly all thoughts of the Punyas were forgotten. As a fresh center sailed his nostrils. Close at hand was the Tamangani. According to your precious map, my friend, this is about the spot we're looking for. But there's nothing here but tangled weeds and rocks. Ah, the nighties would have guided us to the spot if you hadn't been such a pinch penny. It is easy for you to speak about spending another's money. You'd be getting off of it, Governor. Half of what? Half of the myth you swallowed in some rotten dive in Mombasa. It's here, I tell you. Somewhere in this bloody section there's enough gold to shut up you fool. Shouting that word loud enough for everyone in the Congo to hear. Ah, what's going on here, Governor? God, I see the nerves like you had a bobby and each side you're pushing it through the gates of old Bailey. There's no one around here to hear me. You're wrong, Tamangani. So you have come to seek gold in Tarzan's jungle. Oh, blimey, that's the bloke you told me about. Keep quiet. What did he tell you? I told him something of your unusual reputation for Justice Tarzan. I said that before we made any move we must contact you. Why should the Tamanganis who come to this jungle to steal gold have need to contact me? It's this way, mighty. Quiet. I will explain. Tarzan, your choice of the word steal is inadvised. We plan to make a proper arrangement with the natives of the district. If we can locate gold, we will enlist their help and share the profit. You mean you'd pay them money? Exactly. We contribute mining skill and equipment that they will furnish to lend to the labor. Is that not fair? Yes, it is. Seldom have I heard white men speak as honestly. I'm sorry that I misjudged you at first. Ain't nothing, Arbic Governor. We all make mistakes. It so happens that this is the land of the Punyas. If you find gold here, they will welcome the opportunity of working for you and of receiving recompense. And of course, we will not forget Tarzan. I have no need of money, but the Punyas are my friends and I will do everything with my power to help them. And you? Thank you. Allow me to introduce my friend, Mr. Graves, Tarzan. And I am Alex Schneider. Yes, Schneider. What are you guys for yet, mighty? Just ahead. Are you tired? Not if there's gold in him, Graves, I ain't. That I do not know. But the cave from which the Punyas sent the sample is among them. I don't know if Alma does not remember which one. Well, that's a fine idea, too, ain't it, Governor? I said that's a fine idea, too, ain't it? I'm sorry. I wasn't paying attention to your conversation. I was observing the shale-like quality of the soil around the walls. You think there's gold in it? Gold? No. And I'm not interested in that. Well, here's something you are interested in, Mr. Graves. The cave, hidden behind all them bushes. It's mighty dark in there. I have my flashlight with me. A single flashlight will do little good in the great darkness of the cave. But I anticipated the need for light. Last night I left these torches soaking in this pool. You're gonna light them and you left them soaking overnight in water? Are you deaf, man? This is not water, my friend. This is the liquid the natives call alool, light water. It makes the torches burn more brightly. Here, I will light them. Say, they give a fine lot. Smell it now. Here, you'll need to carry one. And if there is gold within the caves, you shall be able to tell. Come on, walk carefully. Your boots cannot grasp the rock as easily as my bare feet. The rock's spooky, aren't you, Governor? Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, what's the site? Think there's any gold? All right, I'll have to look. Bring your torches over by the wall here. Yeah, but good luck, Professor. Little bit grives knows if there's gold. You're the man to find it. In a way, I hope there is no gold. And yet the poonyers think they need money. Oh, they'll get it slow, but they will. We'll treat them fair and square, we will. I depend on that. But, Professor, have you seen anything? Not much. Speak up, then. Is there any gold, is there now? Some. Where are you going, Governor? I have seen enough. Let us leave this unpleasant hole in the earth. Where's he gone, Governor? Off to sleep in some tree somewhere, you fool. I thought he'd never leave us alone. Well? Well, what? Well, what he says. He barely makes it out of Saudi Arabia. We have the devil's own time buying that equipment in Mumbasa. We lose our lives almost a dozen times in the jungle and for what? For gold! Is there a right to have any gold in that cave? I said there was some. Oh, you did, did you? Well, that was nice here, Governor. Yet that yardling bothered to look at the blooming cave. Too high and mighty, you are. Be quiet. And let me tell you something, Herbert Graves. We are not in civilization now, and you will not be able to inform on me. If you bellow at me once more, I will kill you as well as Tarzan. I didn't mean no harm. All I wanted to know is whether we'd mind a find. Unless I'm sadly mistaken, the gold in this section wouldn't say five dollars a ton until we transported to the coast. It would be worth no more than swordess. Oh, no, Governor. Oh, you're pulling my leg, huh? But I'm true. It is true. There is none of the gleaming gold you seek here. But the country is rich in black gold. Black gold? It is a name that men in the petroleum industry use for crude oil. You mean... You mean it's oilier, Governor? Great surface pools of it. It was in rich oil that Tarzan soaked those torches. Even you noticed the odor and the smoke as it burned. Well, I guess it's rich. You know what I saw in the smoke from those torches? What did you see, Governor? Great pipelines through the jungle of the Pointenoir. A fleet of tankers sailing from there. Here, thousands of blacks sweating in oil fields. And Alexis Sparine, as lord of the jungle. And Tarzan. He will be dead. And soon. We'll be back with the conclusion of this episode of Tarzan in just a moment. If Tarzan's respect for money was not great, the same cannot be said of the men Alexis Varen combed from the waterfront dives of half a dozen equatorial cities. For money, they temporarily deserted their favorite retreats and came to his black gold bonanza in the jungle. They were armed with pistols and bullwhips, scimitars and antiquated cutlery. For these were the foremen who were to direct the workers recruited from among the native tribes. Er, get moving, you lazy swine. You there, pick up that box of grills. I'll tell you when to rest. How's it coming, bro? All right, as long as you drive them. Let up for a minute and they quit on the job. You want me to feel and quit again? Let them have it. All right, Andy. I'll put in a good word for you with a boss. Where is he? His Highness has gone calling with Tarzan. It seems like there's a squad of trouble at one of the native crawls. What have you to say to these charges, Mr. Schneider? They are completely without foundation. The woman has made them up. The gong will not lie. Men are each village each night dropping with exhaustion, and they are a great wealth to cross back. Of course the men are tired. They are unused to chopping trees and clearing brush and building dikes. Men also are unused to whips. I'll leave it to you, Tarzan. Have you seen any of my former news whips? No. There have never been any whips used within my sight. But it seems you invent many errands for me to run so that I will not be near the camp. And there are the marks. Perhaps it is some jungle insect or disease. I would recognize those signs. Mr. Schneider, while I hesitate to doubt the word of you or your men, I have never known the people of Punya to depart from the truth. Well, perhaps without my knowledge, some of my men have been... If I obtain proof of any beatings, I shall drive every tamangani from the jungle. You misled me when you said it was gold for which this heavy equipment was needed. And you will not mislead me again. Does that satisfy you, Nagama? There is one thing more, the money. But your men are paid at the end of each day's work. If true Punya is paid, then tamagani of four of them hits him over the head and steal money back. I tell you, Tarzan, the woman is mad. These stories are fantastic. Perhaps. I have a plan to end this particular fantasy. I shall be happy to cooperate in any of Tarzan's plans. The money coming to the natives will be paid to me. I will care for it until they have need. No one will rob Tarzan and no one will be able to find the hiding place where I will keep it. Trillin' is driving me deaf, Commander. The natives will work all night if necessary. Sometimes our can understand you. They haven't unload all these coins in his big sack, too. That is the paywall for the natives. I expect Tarzan in for it any moment. Are you deaf, man? Why aren't you giving him paper money ago? Unless I decide to kill you before you learn, you may find out one of these days that I do things for a purpose. In what bloom and purpose do you... Tarzan is taking the paywall to some secret hiding place. With this heavy sack over his shoulder, he will travel slowly enough for me to follow him. I want to know where he hides our money. Oh, yeah, I'll keep that. Are you in there, Commander? Come in, Tarzan. You keep the men working late. Just until number one comes to. Perhaps we will reach oil tonight. Then we can be more leisurely. I will permit this late work one more night. Then after this, the men will stop when cuter the sun has finished his ride across the heavens. Are you gonna stand for him, given orders, Governor? Of course, Tarzan is Lord of the jungle. I have come for the men's wages. Everything is as agreed. There is the money in that sack. Good. I will see you in the morning. Is the sack heavy, mighty? Not very. Good night. Bloomin' braggart, not heavy, he says. Why did you do him in while we had him inside? Never underweight the enemy, Mr. Graves, and never make an impulsive move. I have been waiting for a heaven-sent opportunity. I will continue to wait until it comes. I shall follow Tarzan now, and if I am lucky, the opportunity might come... tonight. Although Tarzan had scoffed at the weight of the sack, it grew heavy even before he had reached the outer edge of the clearing that the tarmungani had carved in the virginal forest. Abandoning his plan to travel by the upper level, he made his way slowly through the dense vegetation, and behind him, against the wind, stalked Alexis Veran, the man who was waiting for an opportunity. But the killer who stalked Veran had no intention of waiting. Numa, the lion, was hungry for the meat of man. Help! Help! Help! I'm coming! I'm coming! Help! Tarzan! Help! Tarzan! Watch out, Tarzan! He's creeping away from you! I can begin! Good! I can begin! Again! That will teach him. What are you doing, Tarzan? Why do you put your foot on him? He's dead! Anyway, I picked up a rock to use as a weapon in case you had any more... probable. That takes care of you, Tarzan. You see, as it turned out, my dear friend, the rock also proved effective against you. Present dream. I kept it the way I told you. You couldn't do that, Governor. It was coming too fast. But we've got the night to have stick and trenches and mud holes to hold it back. Everything inside is soaked with oil. You smell it? One of these fine days I'll be riding down Park Lane in a blooming Rolls Royce. That's a long way off graves. We have much to do. But the first order of business is for you to take some of the men and follow me into the jungle. I want you to carry Tarzan back to our hut. Carry him back? What happened? The lion attacked me and Tarzan pounced on it and killed it. While he was going through some ritual of being to the moon, I bought him down with a rock. Later, I'll kill him. You're still gonna kill the blighter after what he'd done for you? This is the opportunity I spoke of. Well, if you're gonna do him in, why not do it where he is? I fired a gun in the first. Every native with an ear shot would come running. As soon as the oil is controlled, you can send the natives home. Then I can avenge my brother's death. Have you bound me and brought me here? I have my reasons, Tarzan. I'll say it as mighty. It is true I have been positive in my orders to you. But it was only to protect the natives who are my friends. You should have no malice toward me, Mr. Schneider. At this point, I think it is safe to reveal that my name is Darren. Darren, I shall turn the rick of this lamp higher. Perhaps you may observe a facial resemblance to my brother whom you killed. I have never killed man or beast except in self-defense. In your brother's case, I do not even do that. He was killed by a stampeding herd of elephants. He was attempting to take back to captivity. You killed him and I'm going to kill him. I attempted to save your brother. His terror made him run into the path of the elephants. I did my best to save him, but I was too late. Explanations will do you little good now. I said, Graves, what are you doing with my gun? I may use it on you. Not all like blokes that want to kill someone has just saved their bloody life. You and I reach and understand in about this oil, Tarzan. The bargain I made in the beginning. Watch out, Graves! You stupid fool! I'm going to burn now! Watch out, the lamp! Graves and Baron ran for the protection of the jungle as fire enveloped everything within sight. The men in the oil fields, natives and whites, fled before the onrushing stream of liquid fire that rolled over the field. And in the cabin, Tarzan wriggled toward the flame. He held out his arms and legs until the fire bit through the thongs. His eyes blurred with pain and his head slammed. Yet he made his way through the inferno that was the burning hut. He ran across the field with all the power of his great body, faltering for a moment to pick up one white man beneath each arm. And at last, despite his heavy load and his burns, he reached the blessed protection of the damp forest. Now you are safe. Mr. Graves and Mr. Varen. You saved my life again. You saved Graves and me. Why? Yeah. Why did you save us? So that you may return to civilization and tell the Tamangani that this is Tarzan's jungle. Tarzan's and his brothers, those with skins of ebony and those whose coats are a fur. This time I have been lenient. The next time I will not be. Go now! Lie me. You'll never believe this back in Petticoat Lane. We'll return in just a moment. Our next story is called Tarzan and the Coward. It might be well to ask ourselves, where does courage end and foolhardiness begin? And exactly what is cowardice? Sometimes the answers become apparent in civilized countries, but it is self-evident in a land that teams with danger and savagery and dramatic death. 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.