 Tarzan of the Eighths, from the novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs, with Mr. James H. Pierce as Tarzan, Miss Joanne Burroughs as Jane Porter. Professor Porter's party posing as powerful medicine men before the cannibals who have captured them escaped from the cave temple where the witch doctor tried to trap them. Meanwhile, Jane Porter has persuaded Tarzan to let her accompany him on his visit to the cannibal crowd in quest of arrows. They're surprised by the blacks and take shelter in a hut. The chief's son shoots a flaming arrow into the hut, setting it on fire. Now, are you ready? Hold your breath. Fazing huts cast a lurid glow over the compound. The blacks leap and yell as they circle the fire trap. At last, they've caught this white devil god of the jungle. Wilder and wilder grows the dance. At last, their gods will be appeased. At last, the rain gods will send the saving rain. Inside the hut, Tarzan and Jane quest back from the opening. The roof above them is a blazing inferno. The heat is intense. Tarzan glances through the opening. The natives are in front, dancing and yelling, waiting for them to make their break for safety. The rows of upraised, glittering spears and pointed arrows show the eight man the futility of any attempt shall leave that way. What? What can we do, my skin? I don't get it. Tarzan does not answer. A quick glance at the roof shows him that in a few seconds it will fall in on them. He grasps the strands tying the pieces of matting through the upright holes, tears some of the matting away and looks outside. The path through the rear of the hut is clear. In a moment, he has the hole big enough to crawl through. But, my skin, should we go that way? They'll kill us just the same. Tarzan forces himself through the break in the hut pulls Jane after him. The crackling, licking, yellow tongues of flame between him and the natives hide him as he crouches low and lifts Jane in his arms. With the speed of a deer, he crosses the clearing to the witch doctor's hut and disappears into the darkness. Now, Jane, no more frightened. But how will we get out of here like this? Oh, if Daddy would come. If the natives come here, we won't be any better off than before. No talk. Black man will come this way. Black man, many black men. Look, Jane, my skin, other hut. Yes, I know. They think that we are still in the burning hut. But, look, in a minute or two, the whole thing will come out. Then they'll know we're not there. This hut? Devil man hut. Devil man come. White skin hill. Yes, yes, white skin. But that won't help us. Sooner or later, they'll come here. Black man, no come. Devil man hut. Look. And Tarzan takes Jane's arm as he points to the heap of skulls laying on the floor of the witch doctor's hut. Oh, you mean that this hut is sacred to the devil man. Only devil man come here. Black man, no come? Yes. Bowman getting no come. Jane lie down. No talk. White skin look. Tarzan kneels behind the matting which covers the opening to the witch doctor's hut. He holds the other hut. Donald's sailors stand helpless. The blacks have completely surrounded their hut and every effort they make to leave is bought by jabs from menacing fears. As the fire hut collapses, the gyrating hideous dancing of the natives becomes more frenzied. Their shouts and yells carry to the jungles where Professor Porter, Clayton, Philander and Dono are breaking through the trail with all the speed at their command. We have our friends. The witch doctor's blank for this. If I lay a hand on him, you'll certainly give me a great deal of pleasure to break his filthy neck. You're right, Clayton. Although I'm not in favor of an extreme violence, in this case, I hope we'll be in time to save Jane from any harm with their hands. Yes, we will. Let us hope this white devil god is really what they want. And if they have caught him, as the message said, he will occupy their minds till we get there. From now on, I'll never trust another black, not any farther than I can see him. Look, look. Do I see flames? Just a sacrificial fire, I think, Professor. No, no, monsieur. That is not the fire at the altar. Come, hurry. That is the hut. I am sure of it. Look, there's the witch doctor. Exhorting the natives to something, rather. Can you tell what the natives were shouting about down there? Oh, yes. They say that the white devil god and the white memsab were in the burn. Jane! Jane! In that, I can't believe... Impossible. There's no sign of anyone having been burned to death there. You're right, Clayton. Come, Professor. Jane was never in that hut when it burned. Do not say a thing, monsieur, as long as the natives believe that they have perished. Well, the natives can't understand what we're saying. They may know perhaps not, but they can understand your attitude. I am going to the witch doctor. Sir, but, Donald! Donald, can't we do something? Search the hut or something? That would be fatal, monsieur. If you search the hut, what will you buy? Why, my being of course. But, yes, monsieur. And lead the natives directly to her hiding place? Oh, no, monsieur. Let me try to keep the witch doctor's attention from whatever might lead him to suspect that Jane and the white devil god have escaped. I don't think you can, Donald. Look at him now. He knows that they have escaped. Coupa! Anna! Aina! Mende Nadelle! Menge! Menge! He said that the white memsab was in there, but that she must have escaped. She said more than that, didn't she? She said that his magic was more powerful than ours. That it was his magic that brought the devil god here. Hey, Donald! I have an idea. Yes, Clayton. Be careful, Clayton. The witch doctor is near, you know. What is your idea, monsieur Clayton? If the witch doctor is going to claim the credit, then let's feed him to it and go and see the chief. I must see Clayton. I don't quite understand you. We must get to the chief first. Tell him that it was our magic, the magic we made at the cave that brought the devil god here. We might possibly do it, monsieur. At least it is worth a trial. And furthermore, if we can put that idea over, we can tell the chief that any interference with our future plans will result in some terrible disaster. That, Clayton, is an excellent suggestion. But we should hurry. I dislike very much the thought of leaving here. But Professor, Jane is obviously not here. I suppose you're right, Clayton. Quickly, monsieur. The witch doctor is watching. The witch doctor eyes Clayton with venomous hatred. Instinctively, he feels that the tall man is to be feared. Clayton watches the black as he follows them towards the chief. Clayton turns suddenly, but the witch doctor sensing the move runs rapidly ahead of them. In the witch doctor's hut, Jane lies on the floor while Tarzan kneels motionless by the door. Right, sir. Don't you think? Can't we leave? Let's try to get to father and step up. Tarzan motions to Jane to lie quiet. The eight man's eyes are fixed on the witch doctor. He knows that if the witch doctor comes to the hut, then the witch doctor will have to be killed swiftly and quietly else the whole tribe will swoop down upon them. Jane, ready? Little more. Biceon. Jane. Go quick. But Biceon, don't you understand? I can't join me like father in this terrible village. Oh, of course you can't understand. You don't know what it means. How did I expect you to know how I feel? Tarzan shakes his head. He knows that for either Jane or himself to be seen means death. A horrible, lingering death. Hours of torture proceeding the end. He turns to Jane. Biceon. Jane. Go quick now. Biceon, come back. Take father. Tarzan looks for the chief hut. He sees Darno gesticulating and arguing with the chief. Now the witch doctor steps forward and tells the chief that it is his medicine that dures the white devil god to the crowd. The natives, satisfied by now that Tarzan and Jane were not in the still smoldering hut, shout to the witch doctor to produce them. Again, Darno steps forward and warns the witch doctor that to interfere with the white band's magic means a terrible and devastating punishment. Men, they must die for my son and cop a car. It's for them that if the white devil god could escape from the fire, the witch doctor's magic could not hold him. Almost looks as if you put it over. The chief is plainly puzzled. Oh, look, if I only knew what had happened, if Jane had escaped, would she still be here? Tarzan, keep those guys. Sorry. Who told you? I'm not a dollar. What? What did he say? He said if the chief would wait till he got the lion headdress out of his hut, he would shore them on grand big medicine. Tell him if he fails to produce the devil god, we will sacrifice him. Please. Love, Belander. But it may make him hesitate. It may turn the whole thing over to us. Sorry. Sorry. That's all. It's over. See our area. He says he is now going to consult the spirit that dwells in his hut. Tarzan tenses his muscles as he sees the witch doctor coming toward him. Quickly, he motions for Jane to be ready. The black grotesque in his hideous garb of leopard skin, thickly doved with paint, draws closer to the hut. The witch doctor stops. Something has made him suspicious. He moves cautiously in a half circle. Now he sees into the hut. Black devil god is in his hut. Can Jane and Tarzan escape the fury of the cannibals again, even if Professor Porter Philander, Clayton and Darno are considered as miracle men by the blacks?