Strange Island

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 Strange Island. Lieutenant Jacques Cordet stood by the window of the officer's room, scowling out at the sun-baked parade grounds and the blue ocean beyond it. He disliked the British, who shared

the authority of the sector, he hated Africa. Africa. No, I was talking to myself, Captain Lawrence. I find myself a vastly more amusing conversation, Eliz, than any of you British. And they say the fine art of conversation has become lost to those of us who've been here for many years. How do you stand it? The eat, the insects, the rotten fool, the filthy

people. If it were up to me, I would exterminate them all. Even if I agreed with you, which I don't, I hardly believe our combined forces could conquer the bushmen. They have the power of numbers of jungle skill and of great cleverness. All of the jungle people I have come across are rather stupid. I know many who are far more clever than any civilized people I've

ever met. So? Not that he's typical, but there's a white jungle man with the name of Tarzan, For example, he... Tazen, I heard of him. He is the jungle lord, Nespa. Yes, many call him by that title.

What I was going to say... If someone were to reveal his superiority to this Tazen, you would be a man of importance around you. Yes, I suppose so. And this man would then be in a position to make requests, for a transfer or for other fevers, imagine?