Black Gold of Africa

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 times.

Transcribe from the immortal pan of Edgar Ice Burroughs. Tarzan, the bronze, white son of the jungle. And now the very words of Mr. Burroughs, the story of black gold of Africa. It formed a strange picture, that curious admixture of modern the ancient, in a corner of Saudi Arabia.

Oil derricks of modern steel dotted the horizon as far as the eye could see. But huddled beneath the metal skeletons, their latest city is old as the Orient. Curio dealers leaned against their carts, beggars dosed in shadowed doorways.

The city drowsed with the indolence of Asia. A few men in soil white linen lounged on the piazzie in front of the land office. Suddenly its door flew open. A man darted out, others followed, their guns blazing as they pursued the lone figure down white on the street.

See, they almost got me. It's fine. There, there they go. I don't know about this place, Governor. You... you saved my life. That is something one does not expect from a stranger. And a stranger to make up, I've been waiting all day for you.

But for a minute I thought you might add the other way when I chased you. I knew they'd be chasing you. Who are you? And just what do you know? Pardon me by skipping the introductions, names, Ebert Graves, Governor.

And of course, you're the honorable, Alexis Varett. And it is some gentleness down, don't think you're so honorable. Just what do you mean by that? I mean, some folks don't think it's tricker to take money from one government to develop oil fields and then sell up to another government.