Jungle Heat

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 jungle heat. The ocean liner, African pride, would dock at Mombasa the next day. But so far, the dignified looking woman with a pretty daughter had spoken to no one aboard.

She was too wrapped up in her great problem. And the gray-haired gentleman who occupied the deck chair next to her, did not intrude on her privacy. His mind was well occupied with the problem too.

They might never have spoken if a rough sea had not suddenly caused the deck to heed, sending the gentleman's teacup flying. I say I'm dreadfully sorry I hope none of the tea landed on you.

Oh it doesn't matter. But of course it matters. I'll be happy to have it cleared when we land. Provided they have it, cleaning establishment, town like Monbasa, Africa. You don't care for Africa? I should say not. I was there once as a young man beastly place.

Then why are you returning? Business, business, I'd give a pretty penny to be clearer. It's rather a complicated matter. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pride. But at all, I volunteer the information. It's rather an interesting story, as a matter of fact.

A certain Lord Grace Doke and his wife, the Lady Ellis, were marooned in Africa many years ago. Unable to find their way back to civilization, they built a cabin, settled down and had a child in the heart of the jungle.