 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 adventure on the road to Timbuktu. In other cities of the world, the sight of a bronzed white savage clad only in a leopard skin might have been expected to attract attention. But not in tarak. For as Tarzan walked down the principal street, he was surrounded by half-naked tribesmen wearing all sorts of outlandish costumes. But he was attracting attention. From shadowed doorways he was watched most intently. And all of those who watched him wore the tattooed symbol of the gold zebra upon their gleaming black forrest. Unaware of the piercing eyes that followed his passage, Tarzan approached the bizarre Hotel Internationale and passed through its ornate teakwood entrance. Good morning. Good health to you one. Thank you. Have you and Mr. Keith Roberts registered here? Most certainly. Mr. Keith Roberts in room 302. Perhaps it would be better to send a message up first. But you are expected, Tarzan. You are mistaken. Mr. Keith Roberts and I have never even met and he couldn't possibly have known that I'd arrive this morning. He seemed to know, Tarzan. Until a few days ago I wasn't even aware that anyone called Keith Roberts knew my name. How do you happen to know it, by the way? Your reputation is well known in Tarak 1. It is you who are mistaken concerning advanced knowledge of your coming. Mr. Keith Roberts said you were to come right up upon your arrival. He sent down word nearly, nearly an hour ago. Well, I wasn't even in Tarak an hour ago. I was still travelling through the jungle. The ways of Allah are mysterious. Beyond the knowledge of mortal man, room 302. May Allah guide your footsteps. A strange half-caste clerk of the hotel fondled a golden charm in his hand as Tarzan headed for the stairway. It was the symbol of the golden zebra. When Tarzan reached the third floor of the rambling Hotel Internationale, he walked rapidly along the heavily carpeted corridor. Then he paused before the lattice half-door that bore the number he'd been looking for. Come in, Tarzan. Thank you. I don't know why they bother putting those half-doors on anyway. Everyone walks in and out as though they weren't there. Oh, the desk clerk told me to come up. No, I didn't mean you. I meant the native servants. They never even bother knocking. The clerk also said you expected me. Have you a staff of Scotland Yardmen with you? No, hardly that. I'm not here on a diplomatic mission, just a simple business trip. Glad to know you, Tarzan. I'm happy to know you, Mr. Keith Roberts. If I think I would be safe on a journey with you looking out for me, I'm a pretty good judge of character. And I like your cut. Thank you, but I haven't yet agreed to accompany you. Your message said you wanted to go to Timbuktu and that you were badly in need of help. Is that correct? Well, it's correct that I'm going to Timbuktu. It's a vast country that's expanding rapidly. The Board of Trade thinks I can promote business there. And it's also correct that I shall need help in reaching that outlandish country. But I sent you no message. But I have the note right here. I tucked in. Oh, it's gone. Well, perhaps I was mistaken. Maybe I threw it away after I read it. But I most certainly received a note. It's no matter. The important thing is you're here. And I'd like you to guide me on my march through the jungle. Well, the easiest way of reaching Timbuktu is by boat along the Niger. I wouldn't set foot in a rope boat. A sea sickness, you know. But to travel to Timbuktu by land is most dangerous. I'll take my chances. Will you come along, Tarzan? Yes, I'll help accompany you. But I would like to know how you learned of me. And why I received a message instructing me to come here. I can't account for the message, but I certainly didn't write one. But I can tell you how I learned of you. Well, please do. Well, I was in the lobby of the hotel on the day of my arrival. And I was discussing my intention of going to Timbuktu. A native I hadn't even noticed until then, stepped forward and volunteered the information that Tarzan was the ideal man to guide. I see. I wouldn't have been apt to write a message to a man I didn't know. But this native assured me he'd get you here. I didn't ask him how he intended to accomplish this. Well, perhaps there's no need to worry about that. The ways of Africa continue to amaze me even after a lifetime in the jungle. When do you want to start out? As soon as possible. It is full moon. Best time for safari through jungle. Who are you? How did you? I'm sorry, frightened white buana. Me, waiter, bring buana's breakfast. Eat well. Need strength for journey. Timbuktu. In just a moment, we'll return to our story of adventure on the road to Timbuktu. Keith Roberts proceeded to eat an enormous English breakfast. He talked earnestly to the bronze jungle man who sat across from him. And they were so preoccupied with their plans for the safari that they paid scant attention to the native waiter who glided in and out of the room as noiselessly as a panther stalking his kill. Unlike many of his people, the servant bore no tattoo marks upon his forehead or body. But about his neck was a chain with an amulet that hung down and was concealed beneath a ruff of egret feathers. It was fashioned in the form of a zebra and it was made of gold. He touched it reverently as he hovered over Keith Roberts. Culver, bring more white man's food. I didn't say I... White buana, eat more. No, I really had quite enough to eat. Never small golden sausage, maybe? Well, perhaps just one more small one. Ah, excellent. Sure you will join me, Tom? No, thank you. But enjoy it while you can, Keith Roberts, for you'll have many meals in the jungle that consist of cooked monkeys or rodents or even insects. Well, we're used to austerity in England these days. At least I hope if I'm reduced to eating monkeys and rodents they'll be well seasoned. It may not be easy to find trained porters and as scary and personal boys in Terrac let alone an adequate cook. Take Culver long as cook. He could cook. That's an amazing coincidence. Kooba cook many years before he come work in city. I say this is a stroke of luck to us, especially since you say it's difficult lining up a staff here in Terrac. We can't hire a cook on the strength of his own recommendation. Work for other safaris of white men. Clerk downstairs tell you Kooba good cook. I'd have no more reason for taking his word. No, just a minute, old man. I can't see any reason for not hiring this chap. But we know nothing about him. He looks all right to me and I've always been a pretty good judge of character. And so Kooba was enlisted as the cook of the safari. Tarzan anticipated difficulty in lining up the necessary porters and bearers and beaters for Terrac was a port from which few safaris departed. But strangely enough a dozen volunteers sprang forward to take their place in the caravan. They spoke a strange dialect that Tarzan did not understand but he knew it was wise to hire men who were used to living and working together and all of the many hired bore the same symbol upon their foreheads the sign of the golden zebra. As night descended the safari left Tarac far behind and plunged deep into the jungle. Why sir, isn't it a bit foolish to travel at night? Well there is more danger from animals but you've had no experience in jungle travel and it would be unwise to begin your training under the African sun. Well I can stand a little heat but I'm not sure I could cope with a rampaging elephant. Oh elephants aside from occasional rogues seldom attack men. No I think we have a little to fear from elephants. I wish I were as confident about the men in our safari. They all look first-rate to me and I'm a pretty good judge of character. Oh watch out! Why did you knock me down? I didn't see anything. Look at that tree and knife. They did a good inch and a half in it. I didn't miss you by more than an inch. Buzz! We chase man who throw knife. No we do not take a chance of separating our party in the darkness. Let me take a look at it. I say it has a gold head. And what a strange sheep. Yes. It's been fashioned in the form of a zebra. Well Kuba has your breakfast almost ready. After you've eaten that you'll feel better. I still can't see why anyone should have wanted to make an attempt on my life. Well they might have been aiming at me. I have many friends in the jungle and the zebra on the handle means it was thrown by one of our own men. It is the symbol of their tribe but all of our men were within my sight when the knife was thrown. Then maybe Kuba's right. What is Kuba's theory? He says we're in Zulu country now and that the Zulus may resent our having hired these fellows as porters. They might have thrown the knife with that symbol on it to cast suspicion on all men. Make us fire them so they could get the job. Just one fallacy in that reasoning is the knob carry a heavy club with a knob head. The knife was thrown from a great distance and no Zulu could have been proficient enough to come that close. There's more to it than that. Breakfast ready for White Buona. Thank you Kuba. At least I know I can count on you. Nice eggs, strong tea. You want more you can't. Just a minute Kuba. Yes Tarzan. I want you to taste the eggs. Take a sip of the tea. There was an attempt on Mr. Keith Robert's life last night. Kuba taste eggs. Sip tea. There. You see Tarzan, on the stage you're barking up the wrong tree when you suspect Kuba. He's all right and a good cook too. Santa Buona. I don't know what last night was all about. It's past now. I feel all right when I get this strong tea inside me and I stake my life on Kuba. You may be staking your life on him before we reach Timbuktu. Well after a mile of endless jungle had been traversed during the past weeks. Countless native tribes had been encountered and left behind. Jungle beasts and the fierceness of the elements had been encountered and overcome. And still the safari pressed on ever in the direction of Timbuktu. There were no further attempts on the lives of either Tarzan or Keith Roberts. But the latter seemed more dead than alive. His clothing was torn and ragged. His skin was blistered and raw. His lips parched. His eyes nearly shut from the bites of insects. His feet so sore he could no longer wear his boots. How much farther Tarzan? About three days, March. It might be an easier route but if there is I don't know about it. Perhaps one of the porters might know. I doubt it. Whenever I've been busy hunting for food or staving off an attack by unfriendly warriors they seem to have selected the most difficult parts of the jungle to lead us through. That's been lucky to all right. I'm sure I can go on another three days through this tangled mass of bimbles and trees and jagged rocks. Is Good Road north here? A road, Gober. Good Road, run by River Niger. It's easy to walk. Has good water for drink. Drinking water that isn't full of insects and slime. How do you know about this road, Gober? Gober born near here. You never told us that. You not asked? How does a road happen to exist many years ago? In time, Gober's great-great-grandfather but still good road. Well, perhaps it is but I know nothing of the people of this section and on an open road one is little protection against enemies. People here, not enemies. Good people. You take road, go all the way, Timbuktu. The road goes all the way there but that's impossible. Isn't that a single road in all of Africa, that link? Gober tell truth. But if such a road existed... For heaven's sake, Tarzan, you're completely trustworthy. Yes, but this fantastic story of a road that... This is no time to worry about why you haven't heard of the road and why Gober didn't tell us he came from this district or any of the rest of that nonsense. He knows a road that's easy to travel and has good drinking water near it. I don't know about you and I don't care. As for me, I'm sorry. I have no intention of deserting you at this stage of the game. All right, Gober. Timbuktu. In just a moment, we shall learn what adventure befalls Tarzan and Keith Roberts on this strange road to Timbuktu. Strangely enough, the road materialized exactly where Gober had said it would. It was a magnificent road and the safari made its way easily along the time-worn smoothness of its ancient rock. And then, suddenly, as they rounded a bend in the road, the ribbon-niger spread before them. And on its banks, a miracle city was a mighty temple that bore the symbol of the gold zebra. Tarzan and Keith Roberts sensed a trap but it was too late. Their quarters had become their captors now and their numbers were reinforced by hundreds of powerful Negroes who came from all sides and clustered about them. Folly Tarzan, looks as though I've got you into something. Don't try to run and don't make any sudden movement. Who wouldn't stand a chance? I say there, chaps, you needn't push me. No, I suppose we'll find out in a few minutes what's it all about. I don't like the look of those long spears, though. Look at the zebras running through the streets. Perhaps they're holy or something. That big temple just ahead seems... Look at the man coming out of it. If you could call him a man. I've never seen anyone of his girth before. He must weigh close to four or five hundred pounds. Look at his garments. That's so much. Robs of purple and gold must be a high priest or something. Look at all the others throwing themselves upon the ground as he passes. Did you ever see jewels like the ones he's wearing? And the magnificence of the whole city. He certainly hasn't captured us in order to rob us. Only he could speak English or some other civilized tongue. And what language would you prefer that I address you in general? I didn't mean what I said as an insult. I only meant to... He means that your followers, the ones who guided us here, spoke no language we could understand. They were not my followers. But my subjects. I am the Kahia. Divine ruler of thousand. Those who led you here were mute because of my orders. But why? The men were mute because I did not care to trust their tongues. They followed orders implicitly. As did my loyal subjugahuba. The clerk in the hotel were Mr. Keith Roberts State in Tarak. The messenger who brought you the letter in the jungle tireson. And all others charged with your delivery here. And the man who threw the golden dagger at Keith Roberts? Was he also acting under your orders? It was our desire to injure him but slightly. In order that he should travel with difficulty. But the elements did as well. They made sure you would not attempt to travel to Timbuktu except by the easy road. The road that would bring you to the Kingdom of Kahia. Your chambers await you gentlemen. When you are bathed and unrested you are to dine with me in my royal banquet hall. It is both an invitation and a command. Say I feel like a new man. The jolly decent of the Kahia to have tea set up to our chambers. Yes, jolly decent. And what chambers? I've never seen quarters like this. Outside of the cinemas those are the chaps in our chambers. I have never seen quarters like this. Outside of the cinemas those are the chaps in America make. It almost seems as though we're the fatted calves being prepared for slaughter. There you go with your suspicions again. I've got this thing all figured out, Tarzan. Good, then perhaps you'll explain it to me. Well, this is an out of the way place and this Kahia doesn't get many opportunities to speak with cultured people. He's obviously cultured himself. Yes, he's an educated man. So where to be enforced guests for a while? Just to keep him company. Maybe he knows that I'm with the Board of Trade to set up some sort of an exchange for native goods that are manufactured here. And he went through all those elaborate schemes just to discuss this matter with you? Oh, I know. You've got it all figured out that he's a deep-dyed villain out to kill us. Well, take my word for it, Tarzan. He may look something of a freak, but he's a gentleman. And I'm a pretty good judge of character. I hope so, because at dinner tonight we shall not be able to force anyone to taste the foods first. Faced with my dancing girls? They're very good dancers and very attractive. Over 200 of them and all of them mine. There are more than 300 rooms in my palace, and it took a thousand builders to erect the temple of the golden zebras. The zebras are holy to you people? They are holy to me and thus to my people. It is said that when I was a child a runaway horse almost claimed my life. However, I was saved when two wild zebras dashed out of the jungle and forced the horse to a halt. Yes, yes. The zebras are holy in the land of the Kaya. Do you like the food? Well, this dish I'm eating now is the most excellent. There are a few African potentates who could afford to serve such a dish in addition to the other delicacies and rare wines I've served you. I am very rich. Have you industry in your country? We mine gold, and we collect many ivory tusks each year. My allowance is, in the case of many oriental rulers, is based on my weight. I am very fat, thus very rich. And how many people are in your kingdom? Thousands, tens of thousands, more than in all of your jungle stars. You dare to call yourself the lord of the jungle? You're nothing. You don't deserve any title, but you call yourself a lord. I am the Kaya. No one else can match me as a ruler. Yes, yes. That's why I had you brought here. Because I wanted to see what the man looked like who dared to call himself the lord of the jungle. It is only a title of respect and some of the natives are. Well, they call you by that name no. No more. I'll see to that. Then you brought us here so that you might eliminate me. You had no desire to entertain Mr. Keith Roberts. I used Keith Roberts only as a means of getting you here. He's a plain man who does not challenge the Kaya. But you make claims. You pretend to rule the Congo, but there is not room for two of us in Africa. I am the ruler. Stay back all of you. Jungle man lies unconscious. Great Kaya. Take him to the prison cell. As dawn rises over the temple of the golden zebra, he shall be a sacrifice. A sacrifice who will be the lord of the jungle no longer. The distant cry of a hungry jungle panther reached out and returned Tarzan to the land of consciousness. But as his eyes grew used to the captive of an insane potentate, there was little chance that he might save Keith Roberts life without help. But if he could free himself and reach Timbuktu, he might be able to return with government troops. His mighty muscles quivered as he bent the bars of his cell. Then he squirmed through, crawled to a small ledge and leaped to the roof of the adjoining building, the temple spring at the helpless cult was the hungry panther he'd heard in the distance. Tarzan knew he was risking his freedom and his very life, but he could not stand by and see the gentle creature torn limb from limb. His body formed a silvery arch in the moonlight as he catapulted downward. You escaped from your cell? Yes, I escaped. But now you have me completely surrounded again. You have saved the life of a holy zebra. It is my sacred obligation to honor you, to send guards with you and Keith Roberts to ensure your safe arrival in Timbuktu and to proclaim in a loud voice that you are a brave servant who deserves well the title of Lord of the Jungle. Well, Mr. Keith Roberts, your business in Timbuktu has been completed. Am I to guide you on your return march to Tarak? Do you have a sickness and travel by boat this time? Not that either. I found a private pilot who's agreed to fly me back to England in his own place. A chartered plane owned by a private pilot in Timbuktu? That sounds strange. What do you know of the man? As a matter of fact, I know nothing. But I'm sure he's a capable pilot and an honest man. I'm a pretty good judge of the lush vegetation of colorful birds and flowers beyond compare. But years ago it sank into the sea and was covered with seaweed and ocean moss. But some miracle brings the tiny island to the surface again and gentle hands reach out to save Tarzan from drowning. And so begins his amazing adventure on Strange Island. Tarzan, a transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice Burroughs is produced by the United Nations. Listen to our next story, Strange Island, another thrilling episode of The Lord of the Jungle.