 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 bronze white son of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of first prize, death. The capital really consisted of two cities. In the old city, ox-drawn carts threaded their way through a melange of richly rolled Arabs of nearly naked savages of Hindus and Eurasians. The scent of strong spices filled the air and blended with the music of the Orient. But the new city was typically modern. The governor's palace was of glass brick and marble and its gleaming white driveway played host to many late model cars. Now in the brightness of the tropical morning, the limousine drove up to the entrance and a man got out. Like the city, he too was a strange combination. His complexion was swarthy, his features oriental and yet his suit was of an English cut and he walked briskly through the halls of the palace in a manner foreign to the east. But perhaps I was too hasty. I was expecting a gentleman who phoned me from Cairo. I am he. Your original whiting? That is correct. You find it hard to accept an English name in the possession of one with an Egyptian countenance? Oh, I meant no offense. I merely thought that perhaps a mistake had been made. We have many requests for interviews. You made no mistake and I made none when I took an English name, legally. You see, as I explained over the phone, I conducted travel service. I find that a British name helps me in my business. You sound as though you had your schooling in England. That is correct. But I did not travel from Cairo to discuss my person but to speak with you about my business. I shall be happy to listen to your problems, Mr Whiting. I shall be brief. There has been much crime in Africa recently. Many reports of native uprisings, of Bedouin raids, of killings in the Congo. These stories have hurt the travel business. Yes, I imagine such a reaction is quite normal. These unfavorable reports must be counteracted and so I propose to do a job of public relations. I have a plan that will paint our country in glowing terms in the newspapers of America. Still, we should certainly like to have more American tourists. They bring prosperity to a country. That is correct. It is therefore to the country's advantage to have my plan put into operation. And just what is your plan? I propose to hold a contest in America to find the most representative American girl. This, all American girl, is to receive as a prize a trip to Africa. That sounds very cool. Ah, but wait. This is to be no ordinary tour but one that will include a safari deep into the heart of the Congo. A camel caravan across the great desert and expeditions through the fabulous catacombs of the ancient pharaohs. But that's unheard of. Your people resent outsiders going through those underground tombs? That is correct. But in this case, permission shall be granted. Furthermore, I shall make all the arrangements and bear all the expenses for the entire contest personally. I will, however, require the public sponsorship of your government. You shall have it, Mr. Whiting. The plan sounds capital and I'll give you every cooperation. Mr. Tarzan, it was like manna from heaven. This gentleman is bearing the entire cost of the contest and the prize himself? Precisely. And just when I thought we'd have to pay for some sort of public relations job things have been a bit rough lately, you know. Yes, Africa needs a campaign of good will but why did you send for me what connection can I have with this contest? A very important connection, Tarzan. Mr. Whiting plans, among other things, a safari into the Congo for this girl. Now, if the girl sees all there is to see and then returns home safely it will be a big thing for us, a great boost for the country. I see. But if anything happens to her, it will spread across the front pages of every paper in the civilized world. It will do us irreparable harm. Oh, yes, I can understand that. So, during her trip through the jungle I want you to act as her guide and her protector. I'm not asking this as a personal favor, mind you but one that I'd like you to do for Africa. Well, Tarzan. Well, the whole scheme sounds very strange. I have no desire to act as a guide and I hesitate to be responsible for anyone's life in the heart of the Congo but you've placed the matter as a responsibility to Africa so I must say yes. Yes, I'll do everything within my power to protect the girl. I cannot see the need for this subterfuge, Mr. Whiting. But, holy one, one cannot go to America, kidnap a girl and bring her thousands of miles against her will. This is the 20th century. I know nothing of the modern age. I live in a world of my ancestors and so I am forced to accept your plan. But you must not fail. The girl must be delivered here in accordance with the holy word. I shall not fail, holy one. Your arrangements are now completed? That is correct. A message arrived this morning assuring me we now have not only the sponsorship of the governor of the province but also that of the lord of the jungle. Ah, you have done well, servant. And when will the girl arrive? I leave for America today and before many moons have passed I will return with her. There is but one question in my mind. How will you manage to have the right girl win the contest? It shall be arranged, holy one, and without suspicion. She will have not the slightest inkling that the contest's first prize will be death deep in the catacombs of the pharaohs. We'll return to our exciting story in just a moment. To remember the contest to select the all-American girl it received considerable publicity on the radio in the daily newspaper and in at least one national picture magazine. The details of the first prize had stimulated much interest. A luxury cruise to Africa a reception by the governor a colorful safari through the Congo an exciting caravan across the desert a thrilling expedition through the mysterious catacombs of the pharaohs. A naive American public eagerly awaited the decision of Mr. Whiting's hand-picked judges. But the winner was informed in advance by the astute Mr. Whiting himself. But Mr. Whiting, there must be some mistake. I didn't even enter the contest. Oh, we received your entry, Miss Johnson. Perhaps some admirer sent in your picture and your qualifications. Well, I can't imagine who could have done it. Oh, but that's not important. The important thing is that you have been selected from among all of those girls. Are you not excited? Yes, I'm excited. The trip sounds super. Just imagine sailing to it. Oh, but it hardly seems fair for me to... Were you to decline the honor, it would be most unfair to the judges who spent many weeks poring over the pictures and the statistics. Oh, but all the other girls, probably hundreds of them have been dreaming. When the results are published tomorrow, you will see that the other girls have received many fine prizes, including wonderful trips to other countries. But you, my dear Peggy, can't imagine the first prize. I can't understand your skepticism, Tarzan. Why, look at this publicity. It's worth a fortune. Yes, I suppose it is. Joe, look at this picture here. The one where she's sitting on the rail of the ship. The deucidly attractive young lady, I'd say. Yes, she's very pretty. I see. Your enthusiasm practically bows me over. What's eating you, old man? Frankly, I don't know. But we in the jungle rely on instinct, and then there's something about whiting that up. Perhaps your instinct doesn't work so well in the city. I've checked into whiting's firm, and it has the finest reputation in all of Africa. It's perfectly all right, I tell you. And very generous too. Why, all the things that girl received at the reception tonight are fantastic. Yes, too fantastic, perhaps. Oh, come off it, old man. The ship docks at noon. Her interview with the press is set for three o'clock. My wife and I entertain her at a private dinner at seven, and at nine there's the big reception. Now, come. We can't afford to have glum faces more of the festivities. I promised to set my face in a permanent grin, but I can't promise to erase the doubts concerning whiting that exist in my mind. Tarzan's doubts would have been multiplied, and the governor's complacency shattered had they witnessed Mr. Whiting's hurried departure from the ship upon its arrival, and his speedy journey to a secret meeting place. The stone building, lost in the maze of the old city, was far from Egypt, but the meeting was important, and many of the high priests of the cult had come to hear the report of Mr. Whiting. My mission in America was successful. I located the daughter of Emile Johnson, a blasphemous Christian who once defiled the tomb of our pharaoh by digging in it with pickaxes and shovels. The acolytes you once sent to his country to bring him back for punishment failed, and later death robbed us of our victim. But I... I have not failed. The first-born child of Emile Johnson lives, and I have brought her to Africa in accordance with the holy word. You are to be congratulated upon your resourcefulness, Mr. Whiting, but now the chosen ones of Nihabi desire to know when she will be delivered to the catacombs that constitute the final resting place of our pharaoh, and which must be her final resting place in accordance with the word. The time is not distant to Holy One. To avert suspicion, we must first permit her to enjoy the excursions she was promised. But when summer has passed and the air grows chill in the underground tombs, she shall be brought for sacrifice. It is well. But remember this servant of Nihabi. If anything happens to this girl, if anything prevents her arrival at the catacombs, you shall pay dearly. This honor and death will be yours, and the disgrace and the vengeance shall extend to your family, to your wife, to your daughter, I even to the third generation. If I fail, you will take the life of my beloved grandson? Such is the law of Nihabi. I shall not fail. I shall accompany the girl wherever she goes. She shall be delivered at the appointed hour to her destiny. We shall be cutting our way through the jungle, and our pointers are also savage-looking. Oh, it's wonderful. I wouldn't have missed it for the world. How about you, Tarzan? I'm always at home in the jungle, but I'm surprised you decided to come with us, Mr. Whiting. I guess it was my own eloquence. When the governor called on me at the reception, and I started to tell what was ahead for Peggy here, I decided on the spur of the moment that it was just too good to miss. I know exactly how you feel, Mr. Whiting. It's all just like something out of a picture book. I'm doubly glad I came along now. Your extreme pleasure is my pleasure, Peggy. Oh, look at that cunning animal over there. That's an artwork. An anteater. I remember now I saw one in a zoo once. My father took me there just after he'd come back home. Oh, hold up a minute. Boss! Boss! Manipara! What's wrong? The porters are veering to the north, and I told them to gradually head south. I told them to bear to the north. You told them? That is correct. Even before I left for America, I entered into an agreement with the chief of a village to the north of here. He plans to hold donks and native feastings to entertain our fair visitor. Oh, doesn't it sound simply super? This village is the north of here. It's the village of the Kumaniko tribe, isn't it? That is correct. I understand they have some very colorful ceremonies. Very colorful and blood-curdling. Are they cannibals? They're an ugly race, and one whose chief has violated every law of the jungle. Our paths have crossed in the past, and I've found them a people without honor. Oh, I'm afraid you're taking this all a bit too seriously, Tarzan. Honestly, if I believed any danger existed, I wouldn't take Peggy to their village. As always, the threat of danger among the Kumanikos. Well, I won't make an issue of it. One native tribe's pretty much like another. Have you made arrangements with some other tribe? No, I've made no special arrangements, but I'm sure Peggy will be content to see one of the tribes just as it is, without any pre-arranged show being put on for her. Oh, no, I'd much rather go where they're putting on special dances and feastings. It sounds simply scrumptious to me. Then it's decided. And I think we've wasted enough time. Let's get going. Maniapala! Mora-ri-la! Mora-ri-la! Feeding the drums with their bare feet. Kumanikos are madmen. They'll dance on those drums until they're exhausted, and then others will spring up to take their places. And that one who's dancing around the chief, what's he supposed to be doing? He is an odd one. What's he dressed up to represent Tarzan? He's the chief griot, sort of court jester, and he's permitted the most outrageous importance because he acts as a year-round entertainer. Oh, he's sort of cute at that. The mask he wears bears the symbol of authority. It means he's now masquerading as the chief. What's he doing, grabbing that native woman by the arm? It's hard to tell. They're acting out some sort of a story. Probably some event in their past history or something that they plan for the future. The king, represented by the griot, is leading a woman, perhaps a bride the king desires, into a cave. You see, now he's pretending to seal the cave with a rock, and he's pretending to strike the woman over the head to show his mastery of her. They never saw anything like this back home. What are the other two dancers doing? The ones who are painted white? I don't know who they're supposed to represent, but they're obviously enemies of the king. You see, the griot is pretending to fight them. It hardly looks like pretending. Look, the enemies of Rola. When the griot makes up a story, he sees to it that the king is always victorious. It's sort of a life insurance for him. Well, that looks like the end of the show for tonight. Oh, gee, it's been fun, but I am tired. You like what we do for you? We've all enjoyed your dances and your ceremonies very much. It's good. You sleep now. We take you hemmas. Men go with warriors. Kayo come with me. Where are you taking the girl? Hemma for men, that end village. Hemma for women, other end. I show Kayo be. I'm not used to sleeping indoors. I shall sleep outside of the hut containing the girl. Do as you wish, Tarzan. We'll not change path of moon or journey of sun. No, Tarzan's decision was not to change the course that had been decided upon by the chief of the Kumunikos. Near dawn, when Tarzan's tired eyelids began to close, a dozen fierce warriors pounced upon him and bound his hands and feet. Then leaving a guard behind, they swarmed into the hut that contained Peggy and carried her off into the jungle. After the white man's party had been ignored, a weak and puny man he was considered harmless by the mighty men of Kumuniko. But they had not counted on his insane fear when he found the girl missing. The promise of what would happen if he did not deliver her to the feroz catacomb aroused him to maniacal frenzy and he attacked Tarzan's guard like one possessed. That takes care of you. Quick writing untie me. I'll take this savages knife. I can cut you free easier. Now then, that gets your hands. I'll free my own feet. We must save the girl, Tarzan. We mustn't let anything happen to her. They headed for the jungle. Must be a cave not far from here. Come on, Whiting. You think they've taken her to a cave? Yes. I figured out the little play that grew out stage. He represented the king. The woman represented Peggy and we were the two natives who were painted white. The chief intends taking Peggy as his bride. Unless she resists too fiercely then he may decide to kill her before he faces us. No, Tarzan. That mustn't happen. Whiting, I misjudged you. Your fear for the girl's safety is genuine, all right. If we can save her and manage to escape with our own skins, I promise to trust you after this. In just a moment, the exciting conclusion of first prize death. Now Tarzan's incredible knowledge of the jungle came to good stead as he unerringly ferreted out the cave to which Peggy Johnson had been spirited. Aided by the fear-stimulated Whiting and fought like a dozen men, Tarzan waded into the warriors of Puma. The savages fought with the Aboriginal tourists. The combination of Whiting and the mighty Tarzan was too much for him. Before reinforcements could be summoned from the village, Tarzan had stormed his way into the cave, secured the girl and slung her over his shoulder. Dragging Whiting by one arm, he made for the upper level and within a short time they had reached safe territory. Well, Mr Whiting, we made it. Yes, we did, my boy. It's just the most thrilling thing that ever happened to me. And look at us now, way up in the trees. You're all right. He didn't hurt you? The chief of the Kuman Wachima Clawson? I didn't exactly enjoy being in that cave with him. He smelled as though he hadn't taken a bath in a month, but he didn't hurt me any. All he did was wave a bag of bones at me and make all sorts of strange motions in the air. Of course, it was just another part of the show. Well, if it's all the same to the next tribe we visit, I'll have my entertainment in the open air. You mean you don't want to turn back? Turn back? Don't be a goon. I never had such a dreamy time in my life. Well, Peggy, it looks as though this is the spot where you switch from camels to horses. Oh, gee. I presume that man ahead with the horses is the one you made arrangements to meet, Mr Whiting? That is correct. And I'd best see him about final details concerning Peggy and my journey to Cairo. See you before you leave us, Tarzan. Of course. Gosh, Tarzan, it's been the dreamiest summer of my whole life. Uh, I'll miss you. I'll miss you, too, Peggy. But you're in good hands, Mr Whiting. Knows more about Egypt than I'll ever know. I don't think he knows more than my dad did. He knew all about Egypt. He must have known more than that to have raised a daughter like you, Peggy. He was a wonderful guy. I hope Egypt lives up to his stories of it. And Peggy, you're a little inclined to be reckless. Please be careful while you're in Egypt, aren't you? Careful? Careful? What in the world could happen to me there? Oh, everything came out all right, eh, Tarzan? Well, I'll have to admit, I enjoyed it. Peggy's a wonderful girl, and that was all wrong about Mr Whiting. I knew it. I'd checked his firm, and it's one of the biggest. Well, they should have arrived in Cairo yesterday, eh? Well, if they were on schedule, and Mr Whiting's a very punctual man. Well, it's a great relief to know that you're a bard than my interruption, garlander. I am Captain Hassan of the Egyptian police, and I have origin business with you. Mr Tarzan, a close personal friend. You may talk freely before him. Very well, and so to the point. A certain Mr Reginald Whiting, the British owner of one of Cairo's largest travel bureaus, left for Europe several months ago. What? But he never arrived there. He met with an unfortunate accident about ship. Go on. It has just come to our attention that a man posing as Mr Whiting cashed several large checks bearing Mr Whiting's signature and later conducted some business with you. We should like to ascertain... Captain Hassan, a young American girl was to arrived in Cairo yesterday. There was to be a reception. I heard of the planned reception. Well, did she arrive? I believe not, but I came here to discuss... It made no sense at the time, but I heard him say something to the man with the horses about El Qashar. Is that near Cairo? It is not far, but there is nothing at El Qashar except some excavations once undertaken by Americans. A honeycomb of underground passages and a group of religious fanatics. Governor, how quickly can we get to El Qashar? I'll get a government plane. We can be there in a few hours. But if we have to search through a honeycomb of underground tombs, we may never find her. I brought her here, Holy One. You have done well and you have been rewarded by seeing her bound and gagged. But now she lies on the sacrificial altar and the ceremonies must soon begin. It's my right to witness the ceremonies. I risk my life... Silence! You are but an acolyte of the Order of Nakhabi. We, the chosen ones of the Pharaohs, shall complete the task as it has been set down. You are but a servant and you shall take your accustomed place as the guardian of the Outer Door. We shall not stand for further delay. The first born of he who defiled our temple must die at midnight. I hope Captain Hassan and his men have fared better than we have. We must have been through hundreds of these underground passages and no sign of her. Those monks or whatever they were wouldn't let us in half of the cataclysm. We should have broken down the doors. It's taken us hours without breaking down stone doors all over El Qashar. It's almost midnight as it is. Oh, that poor girl. And the whole publicity scheme ruined. When this story gets out, no one will... Oh, here's the entrance to another underground wall. Another closed one. I'll use this rock to knock on the door. Maybe there are some more of those fanatics in this one. Which is the Pottle of Nakhabi? We are friends who wish to pay homage. No one is permitted in at this hour. Come on, Tarzan. It's no use. They'll never let us in. They're probably holding one of those infernal ceremonies. Is there a ceremony going on in there? That is correct. That is correct. I know that expression, that voice. Help me pick up this rock to use as a battering ram. I hope we're not too late. Captain Hassan and his men, attracted by the noise, came to help. The door of stone was battered down. The fighting was still in the first Wild Maylaw. And then led by Tarzan when it swarmed into the ceremonial room. A knife of the execution that was already raised. But Tarzan leaped upon the man with all the power of his being. Peggy was safe. And now she was brought to the surface. And Tarzan and the governor faced her with great concern. Are you sure you're all right, Peggy? Oh, of course I'm all right, Tarzan. But gee whiz, you ought to tell your playmates not to play so rough. Gosh, they sure tie those ropes around my hands and legs tight enough. You poor thing. Almost killed on the very last day of your trip. Oh, so now you're going to start it. You know the way they acted for a while. I almost thought they were on the level. And then I remembered something they do on the dude ranch is back in America. What's that, Peggy? Well, they load all the dudes into an old-fashioned stagecoach. And then they put on a phony holdup just to give them a jolt. Well, when I remembered that, I knew what those characters were up to. And I wasn't scared at all. Oh, no, of course not. Gee, Tarzan, this has sure been a dreamy wind-up for my all-expense tour of Africa. What a prize. In just a moment a preview of our next exciting story of Tarzan. You cannot see it on your map, but off the coast of Angola, not far from Pointe Noir, there lies a tiny island, a lovely place of great palm trees, a brilliantly plumbed birds of tropical fruit and blue lagoons. And it is to this island that fate brings a man, his lovely wife and the son, they both adore. A strange setting indeed for violence and a fear that grows into stark terror. Included in our cast were Jack Moyles, Gloria Grant, Dan O'Hurleyhee, and David Wolfe. 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. Listen to our next story, Paradise Island, another thrilling episode of The Lord of the Jungle.