The End of the World

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 sun of the jungle. And now in the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of the end of the world. The equatorial sun was strong, yet as it filtered down through the heavy foliage of the jungle, it was not uncomfortably hot.

All was well with the world, and Tarzan was happy. At his side was Torgo, the small native boy of whom he was so fond, and it had been arranged for Torgo to spend the next moon with his tall white friend.

Yes, it was a good life. Tarzan smiled down at Torgo. You are a days' march away from Mamanagama already, Torgo. Are you sure you will not be lonesome? Pargo, not a daylo. Grown man now.

Of course, of course. Only even grown men sometimes miss their home when they're away. Pargo, not miss home. We'll be too busy hunting elephants and panthers and wild boars. Are we? We will have to hunt for food.

And you will have a chance to practice your skill with your bow and arrow. But, Pargo, you must remember this time that animals are to be killed only for food or in soft protection. Pargo, remember?

While Tarzan awaits, Torgo will protect Tride against Volgani the Gorilla and Numid and I and Torgo very brave and strong. Well, of course you are, but Tarzan is tired, so if Torgo doesn't mind, we will have a short rest now. Well, if Tarzan is tired... Oh, no, no, I wouldn't sit there, Torgo.