The Hand of Death

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 bronzed white son of the jungle. And now to herald the March of Dimes, which begins next week, we bring you a special Tarzan story entitled, The Hand of Death.

It may be difficult for many of us to grasp from a distance the enormity and the complexity of the dark continent Africa is more than four times the size of the United States One section is no more similar to another there than it is here The great city of Johannesburg bears no closer resemblance to Tarzan's jungle

than our San Francisco does to a logging camp in the main woods and Certainly Tarzan dressed in a breech cloth of leopard skin leaping from tree to tree in his jungle or little resemblance to the smartly dressed couple who drove along the excellent highway toward the Johannesburg suburb of Partown.

It's been a wonderful day Mike, picnic in the country. We shouldn't have to wait for an anniversary. Well, at least I managed to sneak away from the office once a year. Ten years! Oh, ten years and ten picnics with the man I love.

It doesn't seem like ten years ago that I met a little rosy, cheap English girl at a picnic in South Africa. The little English girl was just waiting for a handsome American to come along.

Deborah, you think it was all right to leave Stephen alone today? Well, Heaven's Mike. He's hardly alone with three servants in the house. After all, it's only a little cold. Yeah, I guess there's nothing to worry about.