 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 son of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of Cathedral of the Congo. Of all the river ports that dot the banks of the mighty Nile, Tarak is the most miserable, the dirtiest, the most crime-ridden. The slender figure who walked down the dimly-lighted street of the devil was that of a man of God, and he was on a mission of the church. Suddenly two figures sprang at him from a darkened doorway. A steel-like garote encircled his throat and he fell to the ground, dead, without even a chance for a final word of prayer. I'd give my right arm to get the hang of you's net piece a lot of thong the way you do, Slim. It's got knives and pistols beat a mile. Just a minute. I'll get the door. Right. There we are. Now don't try to carry him yourself, Venor. I'll help you. He don't weigh any more than you do, Slim. I can handle him. All right. Bring him in. Holy smoke, Slim. He's a minister. I knew that. You would. You got eyes like a cat. But what good's a minister? They ain't never got me money. Maybe this one has. Look through his pockets. All right. Here we are. His wallet. Ah, there ain't enough in here to buy saddle wax for your garote. There must be. Let me look through it. The Reverend Nathaniel Malcolm. We got the right guy, all right. The right guy? I thought you told me we was waiting for the first stranger that came along, that we'd roll him for enough dough to buy fuel for my tub. You haven't got any place to sail it anyway. No one will trust any cargo to you. Not even with every scow in the harbor already chartered. What did you mean by the right guy? What did you mean, Slim? This guy's the Reverend Nathaniel Malcolm. He's been a missionary in the interior for almost 30 years. Some guy who was through there on a big game hunt told me all about him. And you expected to find money on a missionary? This guy told me that all his life, this Malcolm, was wanted to build a fancy church in the jungle. A cathedral, he called it. A cathedral, huh? Hey, they cost real dough. Exactly. And he was all over town today, pricing wood and granite and stained glass for the windows. I don't get it. Where'd the money go? Search me. Hey, look at this. A letter from a dame. You can tell by the handwriting. And it comes from the States, too. What do you suppose a dame's doing right into a preacher? If you want to know, read it. All right, I will. Yeah, Malcolm. I was right. What do you mean? I just don't have the moves figured out. That's all. Listen to this. Yeah. I will meet you in Tehrac and I will have the money from the Interchurch Council with me. If the riverboat that comes from Port Said arrives on time, I should be in Tehrac on the 10th of August. Tomorrow is the 10th and the River Queen is doing it. Shut up till I finish. Okay, okay. I am looking forward to meeting you at last. And I am also anticipating my trip into the Congo to assist you in your great work among the Miranawa people. And signed Laurel Mason. It'll be a long time until she meets him. You're wrong, Benner. The Reverend Malcolm's going to be waiting at the dock for her. Are you nuts? Nuts? Not on your life. I did like you told me. I dressed him in your clothes and put those papers with your name on him in the pockets. Good work, Benner. A toaster's body near the waterfront. When he's found, he'll be identified as Slim Cronin. They'll close the police files on you in a dozen countries. Pretty slick figure, Slim. I would greatly appreciate it, my good man, if you would address me as the Reverend Nathaniel Malcolm. You're a guard, Slim. How do I look? Like a preacher. Those clothes sure fit neat. Lucky break him being the same size as you. Somebody saw you dump the body. They've tailed you. Nobody tailed me. Answer it. I'll stand behind the door with my garote. Right. Just a minute. Yeah. I'm looking for a Captain, Benner. I'm Benner. Who are you? What do you want? My name is Tarzan. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Come in, Tarzan. Come right in. We should like you to remain with us to hear the next exciting developments in our story, Cathedral of the Congo. Those who live by the gun and the knife and the garote, that slender instrument of strangulation, are seldom brave. And Tarzan's name struck terror in the heart of the man who had disguised himself as the Reverend Malcolm. Instead of attempting to attack the mighty jungle man, he crept into a dimly lighted corner of the dingy room as Tarzan entered. Oh, why did you want to question me about? I'm told that you have the only ship in Terrac that's not engaged at the moment. Is this true? Well, what if it is? I should like to charter it and have you take me up the Nile and into the interior of the Congo. Oh, well, come on over to the table. There's a little more light over there. I ain't saying yes or no, but if you have enough dough, I might make a deal with it. I have far more than enough to pay for my passage yet. Oh, good evening, Reverend. I hadn't noticed you. Good evening, Tarzan. I heard you give your name. You must pardon my look of surprise. One does not expect to encounter a man of the cloth on the street of the devil. I, myself, find it hard to believe that I've been forced to come to this infamous street, but you see, I too am looking for transportation into the Congo to the land of the Miranaurs. Well, that's not far from my destination. You're a missionary? Precisely. Allow me to introduce myself. The Reverend Nathaniel Malcolm. Malcolm? Oh, yes, I've heard of your work among the Miranaurs. You, uh, you know some of my people? No, no, despite the fact that their village is not far from that of the Punyas, where my friends, I have never encountered any of them. I see. But what brings you to Tarak, Reverend? I've come here to meet a young lady, a Miss Laurel Mason, who is to help me in my attempts to bring religion to the savages. I had hoped to be able to furnish safe transportation for her, but now... Now what? Well, the funds of the church are always limited. I can't begin to pay the price Captain Venerers quoted me. But perhaps, since you have stated that you have more than enough to charter Captain Venership, perhaps you will do so and permit Miss Mason and me to come along. I've always been reluctant to take a white woman into the jungle. But you will be helping in the work of the Lord. Well, if Captain Venerer agrees, I'll not stand in the way of your good work. What do you say, Captain? I ain't seen the color of your money yet. The color is red. There. What? A blood ruby. I have no currency, but the stone is worth a great deal. It was forced upon me by the Caliph of Haradan as a reward for having done him a service. I was most reluctant to take it, but he insisted... Oh, why won't you give me a rock like that to take you up the river? Well, the voyage will not be an easy one, Captain. Did I remind you of the hardships that occur where the Nile flows through the Nubian desert? No one who sailed through those once needs reminding. Then we must pass through the cataracts. I can bring her through. After that, we must leave the Nile and take the shallow river Goadibo into the jungle. Goadibo, huh? Well, I've never navigated that stretch of water, but I ain't worried about us being shallow. If I got a heavy dew onto the bottom of my scowl, I can scrape through. How's the width? It's so narrow in some places that one can reach out and touch the brush at either side. That's why I'm willing to give you the ruby and return for passage. It's a deal, Mr. Artarzen. I have never taken a trip up river, but it seems to me that if this Goadibo is so narrow you can touch the brush at both sides. We should be most vulnerable to attack from both animals and savages. That is true. Then why have you elected to travel by water rather than by land? I've spoken only of the dangerous parts of the journey, Reverend. There are also many peaceful miles during which I can get some badly needed rest. One can get no rest traveling by foot through the jungle, but I did feel it was only fair to warn the captain here that he would not earn the ruby without risk. Okay, son, I have warned me. That ruby sure is pretty ain't it. Hey, hey, where are you putting it, Artarzen? Away for safekeeping. Oh, no, you don't. It's mine now. We made a deal, didn't we? You said that... It will be yours when you have delivered the Reverend Malcolm, the young lady, and me to our destination safely. I still don't get it. What in the devil was the idea sent in Tarzan to meet the theme? Your knowledge of psychology is not very good, my friend. Suppose I went to the doctor meter. Yeah? She might take a notion to check my identity to make certain that I was the Reverend Malcolm before turning over the money to me. Yeah. But the reputation of Tarzan is widespread. Even this girl from America must have heard of him. Yeah, that's probably right. Well, everyone in Tarak knows Tarzan. She won't have any cause to doubt him, and he will be the one who will tell her I'm waiting. With Tarzan introducing me is the Reverend Malcolm. She won't ask any questions. You're a smart slim. What after that? We'll all set sail on your ship together. Tarzan admitted he's tired. Well, if the river breeze fan in his face, he'll sleep like a baby aboard ship. Yeah? And at the first opportunity, I'll use that narrow little thong that has silenced so many so quickly. A groat. The ruby will be ours without taking that long, dangerous trip. And with Tarzan out of the way, we get the girl, huh? The girl and the fortune. Enough money to build a cathedral. Just stick with the Reverend Malcolm, Captain Venner. You can't go wrong. I hope you'll pardon me, Miss Mason, but you don't look like a missionary. Please call me Laurel. And please remember that there's no rule that says a woman missionary has to wear horn-rimmed glasses and carry a samba. No, of course not. Well, have we got all your luggage together now? Yes, but can't you get someone with a car to something to carry? Oh, I've carried many things heavier than those few bags. Besides, the attention of all the stevedores is centered on that other duck over there. Yes, I noticed the crowd there. What's happened? Oh, nothing. Please tell me. We'll get along much better if we speak honestly to one another. They found the body of a man there less than half an hour ago, fugitive from justice who'd been killed by strangulation. The police think a garote was used. Ah, horrible. This is Africa, Laurel, a land of violence. Frankly, I'd advise you to get back on the ship and continue to Cape Town. You can easily arrange for passage home from there. There must be lost souls in America who need saving, too. I've come here for a purpose, Tarzan, and I have no intention of going home regardless of what you say. Shall we get started? I'm most anxious to meet Mr. Malcolm. Yes, my dear, within a few moments we'll go aboard and soon we'll be traversing the longest river in the world on the way to what someday will be known as the Cathedral of the Congo. Mr. Malcolm, they're on the deck. What are those? Well, those are guns, my dear. Guns? Tarzan insisted that we take them along. Yes, we'll need all the protection we can muster, Miss Mason. I have my knife, but it's important that Captain Venner and the Reverend keep the guns by their side at all times. But it's inviting violence, have you asked my opinion? I am not asking your opinion. You ready for the last water, kid, Captain Venner? Laurel. Can I help you aboard, Miss Mason? I can manage very nicely. I'm quite able to take care of myself. It's not going to be a dull trip, anyway. You must pardon Laurel's anger, Tarzan. She feels you want to discourage her in her chosen work and she resents it. The reaction is a normal one. Do not think harshly of her for... Oh, of course not. Seriously, I'm very happy to have company on the trip that will relieve the monotony. Rest assured that I will do everything in my power to make our voyage the least tedious one you have ever taken. In just a moment, the exciting conclusion of Cathedral of the Congo. As Captain Venner's rustic scowl made its way up the colorful Nile, the spurious Reverend Malcolm kept her in self, the victim of a mounting fear, for the girl had elected to hold the money until she reached the Miranawa country. And it seemed that Tarzan always slept with one eye open. Perhaps they were suspicious of him. This was the fourth night of the voyage and still there had been no opportunity for murder. But now, as Captain Venner guided the craft through the narrow valley where the sands of the Nubian Desert reach out to touch the blue waters, all was peaceful. Tarzan dozed near the bulkhead. And if the man who called himself Reverend Malcolm could sneak up behind the bulkhead and use his garote quickly, the lord of the jungle would be no more. The moment had come. The disciples of the devil, a reception they did not expect. Or did they expect a man of the cloth to handle a gun the way you did, Reverend? Who were they? What did they want? Just our money and our lives. They were the Yor Harami, the river pirates. Oh, this is a horrible land. There's violence everywhere. Yes, but there are other things too, Laurel. In the jungle, you will see much violence, but also love and brotherhood and understanding beyond the knowledge of so-called civilized man. You will have to learn to accept Africa's bad along with its good. I shall need help. About being able to touch the brush and he decided to just go and deba. This is worse than those cataracts were. It is most fortunate that your boat requires scanned water beneath it, Captain Venner. I can see the bottom of the riverbed without difficulty. Any trouble we encounter is not apt to come from the riverbed. Well, you should take care of those animals that decided to come aboard this afternoon. Tarzan, throw the trees, eyes, hundreds of them. Yes, they've been watching us for hours. I think they wish us to join them in their religious ceremonies. Religious ceremonies? They're waiting for us to reach that great rock ahead. The paintings on it mark it as a ceremonial place. I ain't stopping by any ceremonial rock. It would be wise to do as they wish. Hideous creatures. These tattoo faces and the bones sticking through their noses. They think they're quite attractive. Jumbo, what do we use he? A two jumbo. Up a sasa hibi. That's a pretty looking customer. He's their witch doctor. He wants me to come to him. Laurel, it would be a sign of good will if you were to come with me. It would show that not even our woman fears their magic. I'll come. Good. Hold my hand, Laurel. I don't believe we really have anything to fear. Well, there's so many of them. Sit even if we want. Well, Slim, how much more of this stuff do we have to go through? Don't call me Slim. And stop trying to give orders. I'll get him the minute he lowers his guard for a second. He don't lower his guard. By tomorrow, he'll reach the Miranawa country. In the Miranawa's, I'll know you ain't Malcolm. We won't reach their village. I'll guarantee you that. I have one more trick and I'll use it. Hey, Tarzan's motioning to us. I guess we'll have to go ashore. Well, I don't like it. Come on. I'm going with the chicken. It is a sacrifice to the Nia of the air. It's to protect us from the birds of prey on our voyage. Aye. Aye. Such a paganism. And now what? A sacrifice to the Nia of the forest. Lala. Lala, Nia Kabuzi. All of us must lie down so that they can anoint our bodies with the blood of the small goat. Quickly now. That's not such a lie down, Van. Please, please, Laurel. Believe me, it's best. All right, but these heresy is disgusting. Mato Nia. Now we must take something of value and throw it into the river as a sacrifice to the Nia of the water. Laurel, that, that string of beads you wear. It was given me by my... All right. There. The spirits of the air, of the forest, and of the jungle have accepted us. We are now free to continue our journey. In the Nani. Almost to the Maranawa country. Why are you stopping? The preacher here asked me to stop. I hope you will forgive me, Tarzan. But I desire to go ashore a moment to make a silent prayer in the jungle that has long been my home. But couldn't you wait until we reach your people? You respected the religious customs of those pagan savages. I should think you could respect Reverend Malcolm's desire to commune with God before he faces his parishioners. Yes, you're right. But I must go with you. Reverend, the woods are alive with dangerous beasts. I should prefer that you remain and guard Laurel. Perhaps Captain Venner would be good enough to... Sure, I'll come with you. Wait until I get my gun. I appreciate your unselfishness, Captain Venner. I feel safer knowing it hard. Dear Mr. Malcolm, I know just what's in his mind. He desires strength with which to face his people. His task has not been an easy one, Tarzan. Nor will yours be. You've told me that it's to be your job to instruct the children. Well, first you're going to have to learn their language. Then you must gain their confidence. And then you must fight to overcome sentience. Tarzan sped into the jungle that skirted the narrow river. But suddenly he swerved in his path and took to the middle level of jungle growth so that he could peer down, for there was something wrong. There was no scent of Sheeta, the panther in the air. But below him he could see far more cunning and dangerous animals. Two men stood by the side of the jungle path they expected Tarzan to take. One held a gun, the other a slender garote. Suddenly the whole vicious plot was made clear to Tarzan. He leaped down, knocking Venner's gun from his hand, and turned to rest the thorn from the grasp of the counterfeit minister of God. But fear gave both men the speed of demons in their fight, and Tarzan could not follow, for Laurel would be left unprotected. He returned to her, his heart heavy with the things he was forced to tell her. But one conclusion to draw Laurel, the man found on the dock at Tarac was the Reverend Malcolm. And the man we've been traveling with must have been the fugitive from Justice. Was it identification we found on the body? Exactly. And Captain Venner was with him in this plot all along. I can't truthfully say I suspected that there was anything wrong. But I know now why I've been beset with doubts about myself. I was looking to the man we thought was Mr. Malcolm for faith, and he has none to share. What's that? Natives. I don't be frightened. Perhaps they're also friendly. I'm not frightened. I'm too angry thinking about those two men escaping after they... Jambo Tarzan. Jambo Laurel Mason. Who knows my name? Much news traveled through jungle. We know you come. We know also about men who pretend to be our own fundis. You are of the marinara, and you knew that someone was posing as the Reverend Malcolm? News come from Tarac. Travel up river, by messenger, by jungle drum. No bad men who kill our own fundis. But they find justice in jungle. Captain Venner and that man. What happened to them? Ways of jungle are strange. They met death? No deal. Now we take you rest away, Marinara village. Go to church in Fern Forest. You make prayer for fundis Malcolm. Yes, we will come with you. I hope that I can truly lead your prayer. You lead. We follow. Laurel, you'll have difficulty buying materials for the edifice Dr. Malcolm planned. I'll have many more difficulties transporting these materials into the jungle. Perhaps the building may never materialize, but with your courage and the faith of these people, a humble shack of mud can become a real cathedral of the Congo. In just a moment a preview of our next exciting story of Tarzan. Africa is a strange place, for it combines the mystery of the Orient with the violence of the jungle. And nowhere is this exotic blending of two worlds more evident than in the mystic city of El-Khadi, capital of the narcotic industry of a continent, headquarters for a savage band who attempt to control a nation through a crippling opiate. Listen to City of Sleep, our next story of Tarzan. Tarzan, the 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.