 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 Dwight's son of the jungle. Now on the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of evidence destroyed. The jungle sun shone brightly on the foaming water where Tarzan swam, and a band of monkeys watching from a tree that grew near the jagged shore seemed to join in his laughter as he frolicked like a young wallbuffer. He dove deep, and his great lungs permitted him to stay beneath the surface so long that the stalwart native who suddenly broke from the brush and ran toward the shore feared for the safety of the white god. Tarzan! Tarzan! Tarzan! You're looking for someone, Omo? Oh, Tarzan know when he is at bottom of ocean that is Omo who calls. I caught you a scent almost half an hour ago. And you stepped on that rotted log just back of that clump of baobob trees a moment before I dove. Omo, forget caution of jungle, his mind much full with troubles of his people. Your crops go badly, Chief Omo? Your cattle do not multiply? Cattle become many, but young men of tribe grow less. His slave raiders. Slave raiders? Oh, I hate those beasts who put free men in chains. I never thought that anyone could organize another caravan to drag our people across the Libyan desert. This time raiders come by sea, take men in boat to Casa Blanca, to Oran, maybe even to Port Said. How long has this been going on, Omo? Last time was while Tarzan away, six moons ago. And then again, last night. Last night? Slave ship still offshore near Kral. We shall board it then. Ship has many thundersticks, Tarzan. Already many warriors lose life. And governor in Bekorata says he not help. The government has refused your aid, but why? Say is only in Omo's mind that in this day and age is no more slave. I can just hear that pompous fool saying that. He say if we bring proof, then he act. Well then we shall get him his proof. Omo, when the slave ship sails it shall have another passenger aboard. Tarzan delayed only long enough to go into his cabin and secure a bag of gold. The most effective bait when one hunts greedy men. And then he accompanied Omo back to the village of his people. Not far offshore, a black-hulled brigantine lay at anchor. Tarzan waited until night descended over jungle and sea, and then he glided through the shimmering water in a native canoe. Once alongside, he scampered up, and then trod silently toward the bridge. Who goes there? Oh, you move quietly, sailor. Sailor? I am captain Zarenko, master of this ship. Who are you and what do you want? My name is Clayton, John Clayton. I'm looking for passage to the nearest point of civilization. Why do you sneak aboard on the cover of darkness? You showed no light, so I thought everyone was below, and it seemed a waste of time to try to signal you. Get off my ship. I do not like strangers, and we do not carry passengers. No, it's just a minute, captain. I wouldn't want you to get any wrong ideas about me. The only reason I paddled out tonight is that I was afraid you'd cast off before I'd talk with you. You see, I... Well, I've been a mining in the interior for several years. I've managed to find quite a bit of gold. Yes, I'm anxious to get back to England. Then swim there. I have my gun trained on you, and I have a crew that is itching for a taste of blood. I never argue with men who have such strange tastes, but I do wish you'd reconsider, captain. I'm willing to pay... Get off my ship! Get off my ship! Omu, why do your people chant the song of warning? While Tarzan go to ship, two more strong young warriors are taken. See? Even now, a small boat go toward ship. From up the coast, less than a mile. Come on, Omu, we're going out there. That's that much chance. We will be badly outnumbered, of course, but... There are many brave warriors of tribe on ship. Omu, sure. That's what I'm counting on. If we can get there before the tender, we may find only the captain on deck. If you can keep him busy, perhaps I can cut the men's bonds and they can help fight for their own freedom. Omu, live canoe in water. Now, we'll do it together. It'll be faster. Up now. That's it. You paddle, Baro, Omu. Dig your paddle deeply. Or if their tender arrives before... Rest your paddle, Omu. We're turning back. They do have many guns and they use them well. Perhaps Tarzan plunges headlong into danger, but John Clayton has decided to use cunning. What you do, John Clayton? I have a plan that may persuade them to accept me as a passenger. But it hinges on your willingness to brave a life of slavery if we fail. Men of Omu already face slavery. They're chief not afraid. Who's Clayton? But I have no business with you. Cast off and I shall forget to notice your white flag. I ask only two minutes of your time. I'm willing to pay two gold pieces for it. If you do not agree to my proposition, the gold shall still be yours. I will lower a ladder. The first victory for the yellow metal, Omu. Follow me up. Nadil, Tarzan. Wanna Clayton if you don't mind? Deal. I remember. Ah, ah, here we are. Yes, here you are. Now what do you want? Captain, I came out this morning to try to persuade you to change your mind about letting me sail with you. My servant, Omu, and I would take up little space. We would ask for no special food or treatment and I stand ready to pay you ten pieces of gold to take me to your next port of call. Mr. Clayton, I have explained to you. We do not take passengers. We have room only for the crew. I should be glad to sleep on deck and you might use Omu as one of your crew members. Now that I'm heading home, I shall need him no longer and he's the strongest native in the entire district. Much stronger than any other man you might find if you were looking for a hand to sign on. I have a full crew. Your gold does not tempt me and I am weary of your entreaties. I'm going below. But I leave orders for you to be thrown over if you do not leave the ship within two minutes. And thank you for the present of the two gold pieces. I was sure he'd grasp at the opportunity of getting you, Omu. He's strange thing. Clayton do not work. Perhaps he's suspicious. Why should you be afraid of us? Welcome aboard, strangers. Thank you. Bill Robinson, first mate. I overheard your little run-in with a skipper. It mustn't be put out about it. I am. I was very anxious to sail with you. Well, why not? We're casting off any minute and if you're aboard when we're underway what can the old man do about it? Especially if I tell him I okayed the terms. It won't get you into any trouble? Oh, no, no. His bite is not as bad as his bark. I appreciate this very much, Mr. Robinson. As I told the captain I should be happy to sleep on deck and Omu would be more than willing to sleep in the hold. Well, there's no need of that. You can share a cabin with our other passenger. But Captain Zarenko told me... And your servant can have a bunk just off the galley. And he can lend a hand if you don't mind. We're operating with a short crew. You managed to get anywhere near the hold, Omu? Men watch every move Omu make. They've got their eyes on us, all right. We've got to manage somehow to get into that hold. No sound come from there. Maybe Omu wrong. Sheep not carry slave. It does seem hard to believe that a man like Robertson would be a party to slave trading. There's a mystery about this ship. I'd like to know something about the other passenger whom I've seen madder hide in a hair. He not sleep in cabin? No, there's some bags and clothes in the other bunk but he's managed to stay out of my sight if he exists. Maybe he's voodoo man who knows secret how to be invisible. A secret I could have used on numerous occasions. No, Omu, I don't know the answer. But centuries or no centuries, guns or no guns I intend to find out tonight. That night as the ship changed course so that it would not sail too close to Port Guinea or Dakar Tarzan strode noiselessly along the corridors of the mammoth brink. Though he managed to gain the lower regions of the ship he could find no door leading to the hold, no passageway that led to the vast regions below deck. At times he thought he detected a moon coming from the other side of the stout corridor wall. At times he was almost certainly heard a muffled sigh for help. But perhaps it was only the straining of a rope or the creaking of a mast. You will find no entrance to the hold along this passageway, Mr Clayton. Then you shall show me where the entrance is. Captain Zorikov! No, I shall not tell you. Go ahead, strangle me if you think will help your call. Tell me! Death could not seal my lips tighter. All right, Captain, you win. Your death would not answer my questions. Now you wonder perhaps why I did not call out for my crew. Why didn't you? Because I think now they wait only for such an opportunity. They would kill me and blame it on you and then give you a trial at sea and take your life. And I shall not give them that satisfaction. Good night, Tarzan. May be true, Tarzan. Cook say, Captain Frey, many of crew. Second mate, Dorengy, chief engineer, Schmidt, ship carpenter, McAnlish. But it's fantastic to think that the master of a vessel is under the thumb of his men. You don't think for a minute that the crew could be running this as a slave ship without his knowledge or consent? Oh, more not, no. Well, you'd best turn in. I'm going to take a turn about the deck and try to figure out this strange enigma. May peace come to your mind, Lord of Jungle. Good evening, Mr. Clayton. Mr. Robertson, you're the only decent man aboard. In the name of heaven tell me who runs this ship. Who holds the captain under his thumb? Well, I don't know what kind of crazy story as you've been hearing. You can bet your bottom dollar the old man is skipper of his craft. Well, then what's the mystery about this ship, the sealed hole that guards wherever you walk, the owning that can be heard through the walls, and the other passenger who doesn't exist? I'm afraid you've been in the jungle too long, Mr. Clayton. Man starts imagining things when he's alone too much. There's no mystery about this ship. Oh, and that passenger who doesn't exist, he's standing right up there in the prowl. I hope you feel better in the morning, sir. I beg your pardon. Boy, what did you do? I understand you're the other passenger aboard, in addition to me. Oh, you're the fellow who shares my cabin? Hardly that. You're never there. Why? Because I prefer to roam around and to sleep under the stars. Besides, I was told it wouldn't be too healthy for me to be seen talking to you. So would it be important of me to ask you who you are and what you're doing aboard? Yes, but I'll answer you anyway. Your name's Smiley Nelson, profession vagabond artist, but I warn you I'm more vagabond than artist. I have a great weakness for painting deserts and jungles in preference to fashionable dobs or pretty faces. Deserts and jungles, Smiley Nelson. I have seen your paintings there. They're famous. How do you happen to be aboard a ship like this? I wanted to see the coastline and experience the thrill of an old sailing vessel. But how did they ever consent to take you as a passenger? The governor's an old friend of mine, and he asked them. Oh, so the governor is a friend of yours? Yes. Any crime in that? No, but there is crime aboard. I suppose you'd be shocked to hear you were traveling on a deluxe slave trader? Slaves? You mean those poor souls in the hold? You've seen them? Certainly. I was told they were the victims of Kingo and native opiate, but they were being taken to a state hospital. The narcotics were probably administered by their captors, and were there chains and leg irons there? Yes. He told me they were for the violent cases. So that's why they had the place all closed off. I've been a blind idiot. They evidently had you picked for one, but I think you could return the compliment if you'd help me. Just name it. We can't possibly hope to commandeer the ship and take it back to port for evidence, but were you to make drawings of the hold, showing the slaves, the leg irons, the chains, and the other devices such men use? They could be used as evidence, and we could enlist the governor's help. If you are his friend, it will also work to our advantage. I'll do it tonight. You can gain access to the place where the slaves are kept? Sure. It's right through the... Farnsey fool! You might have killed Mr. Nelson! Are you all right, sir? Yes. Just a trifle shattered. If you hadn't yanked me by the arm, I might have been killed. A thousand pardons, gentlemen. Pardons, Captain? If it is all I can offer, it was the clumsy ship's carpentry bearing a yard on. Come, Mr. Nelson, I will see you below. I'm just about ready to retire, and since Mr. Nelson and I occupy the same cabin... I think he would be more comfortable in my cabin tonight. I fear for Nelson's life, Omo. No matter what comes, we must storm the captain's cabin and attempt to save him. Omo, ready. Captain's cabin just head. Have your knife ready, and try to keep it on you. I shall throw mine at anyone who fires when we enter. No deal. If they even suspect how much he told me... Here, door. We knock first. All right. Go on. Listen, look. Captains are ankle. Dead stab with big sharp... And Nelson gone. Omo, a stairway leading down. Quick! It must lead to the hold. Smoke pour from hold. This ship is like a tinderbox. It'll be a mass of flames in a matter of minutes. We turn back. Go upstairs. If flames are over, are they looking up the companion way, Omo? I'm afraid someone has destroyed our evidence. And us with it. From timber to timber and flame engulfed the hapless break before a single lifeboat could be man. Man leaped into the deptless ocean. Others were pinion beneath falling timber and canvas. Only in the hole where the fire had started with the flames under some control. For as Tarzan ramp shut the only door, the blaze star for oxygen. But the entire ship was doomed. Tarzan and Omo struggled to free the scores of chain natives. But as the ship began to submerge, they dashed for the captain's cabin, dragging the now unconscious figure of smiley Nelson with them. A torrent of seawater cleared the flames as they made for the upper deck. Seconds before the prowl raised in the air, they leaped for the dangerous haven of the sea. See if you can lift. Omo has Nelson. Now, Nelson dead. Still breathes, but... Robertson, the first mate. Yeah! Let me each out. I think there's a little hole in this hole. Looks strong enough. But I'm not sure how much good it will do us to stay afloat. We must be hundreds of miles from land. We're off the main course. And there are a dozen varieties of killer shark between us and salvation. Sikuni. Fourth day. Why doesn't he talk? Why does he just sit there staring at me? Nelson? Something must have hit him on the head. Just after he called out to Omo and me. He'd be better off if he threw him overboard. Enough people. Dead already. All Omo's warriors who've taken slaves. Want to tell us about it, Robertson? You may not have many days left to clear your soul. Well... You saw the slaves. But it wasn't the old man's doing. Some other crew knew why he lost his papers in the old country. He had to ruin things for him in Africa, too, if he didn't let him have their way. And you? He held a whip over me, too. Only I wasn't as scared as Zarenko was. He was so frightened he thought everyone came aboard and was trying to spy on him. Watch out! Killer shark! Hey! Almost baptized us. Another one. They can smell death in their after Nelson. He's no good anyway, Tarzan. Let's shove him in. They'll go away. I'm sorry I had to do that, Robertson. Lash under that sparrow, Omo. Nelson, too. If these sharks want a taste of blood, I'll give it to them. His knife between his teeth, Tarzan slipped into the water. The foremost shark dove for him in the white of its belly and its cruel slit of a mouth, glimmered beneath the surface of the water. He circled the beast with a scenery left arm and the right arm descended with a flash of steel, flailing the air with its tail, the mighty sea killer fought furiously, but the knife descended once more and the sea churned with red. Now Tarzan turned back toward the impromptu raft, but these sharks were not repelled by the blood of their brother. Two of them rushed to Tarzan, but at that same moment, our poons of bones seeming to come from nowhere, flash through the water, and the school of sharks was routed. I thank heavens they came when they did. They friendly tribe will take us their village, give food, place to sleep. We know one ship that will carry no more slaves, but many questions about our adventure remain unanswered. Robertson's told us as much as he can or will and Nelson's lips are still perhaps forever. All they do is sit in hammer. Son of chief, look out for him. At least he's rested now. We'd best get Robertson and him back to civilization. Robertson can sign on a new ship and Nelson can receive medical attention. Better try to find out if he's willing to tackle a trip through the jungle. In hammer, right here. Well, then Robertson must be close. He never seems to let Nelson out of his sight. I don't know why, except... Listen, boy, laugh. Our artist must be more entertaining than usual. Most of the time he just sits there staring into space. It's much funny. You're a nice man. See, funny picture he drew for Conjua. Nelson. Nelson, you're coming around. Can you speak? Why don't Nelson get better much soon? Don't worry about telling me anything right now. He want you to give him board and chuckle to draw with. All right. There you are. Yes, the ship. Yes. Yes, I understand. The night of the fire. That's you going down to the hole to draw the pictures I asked you for. Yes, I understand. A man comes into a cabin. Is that the captain's cabin? Yes, a man comes into the captain's cabin and tries to follow you down the stairs. You mean a man argue with captain? That's a knife. A man killed the captain and then he followed you down the stairs. There are drawings way from Buona Smiley. Those are flames he draws now. The man set fire to the drawings. Must have been the brains of the slave trade and he knew that if I took those pictures back... The man fight with him. He draw face with mouth open. That's Nelson calling out to warn us about the fire. The man struck you with something heavy and then escaped through a secret door. Who was the man, Nelson? Here, I'll wait the board clean for you. Yes, dark eyes. Let's speak. Thin noise and... Robertson. Robertson, Robertson, come back here. You'll never catch me. Not going jungle alone. Robertson, your life won't be worth it. Luma. Kids, bad men. Oh, turn your head, little one. Turn your head. The jungle has a strange way of administering justice. It isn't pleasant to see its punishment exacted. Humans fleeing before a mighty drought, fruit drying upon the trees, cattle falling by dust-filled water holes, and children crying for milk while a greedy despot who has built a jungle stronghold barters food and drink for human lives. These are the elements that make up our next story of the jungle lord, Tarzan, and the missing element. Tarzan, a transcribed creation of the famous Edgar Rice boroughs, is produced by Walter White Jr. Prepared for radio by Bud Lesser with original music by Albert Klasser. This is a Commodore production.