Tarzan Finds a Son!

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Wildebeest again.

I think we've seen about a million today.

Look, dear.

Poor darling hasn't even learned

how to use his precious eyes.

Rhino.

What a spot for a hunter.

We'll be a hunter someday.

Right now we're too sleepy.

That's a baby.

Cape Town this time tomorrow.

Cape Town and mines and shares

and people bowing and scraping.

But we wish we were

never going to get there.

Don't say that.

- Superstitious?

- No, of course not.

Then forget about Cape Town and being

Lord Greystoke's favorite nephew.

- Let's enjoy ourselves while we can.

- All right.

Oh, dear, it's waked him.

I'll see if anything can be done about it.

- Is everything all right?

- Just rough air, Mr. Lancing.

This escarpment we're over

is not on our map.

Our compass isn't behaving well, either.

- How do you account for it?

- I can't. All this is quite strange to me.

I'll try to get a radio bearing.

These air currents seem to be modeled

on a dish of spaghetti.

The radio is dead.

I can't find anything wrong with it, either.

Doesn't that starboard motor

sound funny to you?

Yes. Get back in your seat.

Fasten the safety belts,

and I'll try to find an open space.

We're losing altitude, dear.

Hand me that blanket quickly.

We'll put him over with us.

Cheetah.

Stop now.

Tarzan, what on earth are you doing?

Why, it's a baby.

- Where did you get it?

- Cheetah find.

One just doesn't find babies in the jungle.

His parents must be frantic.

There, there, now.

- Jane will look after you.

- Jane want?

Want him?

Tarzan, you better go

find those poor people.

- Eat first.

- That's right.

Where will we get him some milk?

I guess coconuts will have to do.

Hurry, Tarzan.

The poor little thing's hungry.

Tarzan eat now.

Tarzan, you go get those coconuts at once.

- Baby eat first?

- Yes, of course.

There we are.

First, we'll have a nice warm bath...

and then we'll have supper.

And tomorrow, I'll take you back safe

and sound to your father and mother...

and I won't be a bit surprised

if I just hate to give you up.

Hurry, Cheetah.

Careful, now.

Thank you, Cheetah.

I don't know what I'd do without you.

There.

We have your real mother to thank...

for bringing so many of these

wonderful things on the plane.

And look, she even marked these

with your initials. R.L.

I wonder what that stands for.

I don't suppose we'll ever know.

One day, I'll take you out in the jungle,

and we'll pick some flowers...

and I'll show you the place

where Tarzan laid her down to sleep.

At least we can be grateful

when those savages found the plane...

they didn't disturb her.

Poor dear. How she must have loved you.

Cheetah, stop it.

Now see that you turn on the charm...

because I don't think Tarzan approves

of strange young men.

Tarzan, how clever.

Now say, "Thank you, Father. "

- "Thank you, Father. "

- Tarzan.

Isn't he adorable?

Tarzan, would you watch him

for a minute?

- Watch?

- I have something to do in the kitchen.

Would you hold his bottle

and see he doesn't choke?

Him no choke.

What is it, Tarzan?

Look, he knows you already.

- He's laughing at you.

- Baby hold.

- That's right. Hold him, baby.

- Baby strong.

Tarzan, he's been with us

more than a week now.

- We've got to find him a name.

- Name?

Yes, like Tarzan, Jane, and Cheetah.

Baby's got to have a name, too.

If the Zambeles hadn't taken those men

out of the plane...

we might have found a clue

to his real name.

Baby strong. Call Elephant.

Elephant, with a little nose like that?

Later call Elephant. Now call Boy.

- But that's not a name.

- Boy.

After all, I am his mother.

Tarzan, father. Call Boy.

Then go to your father, Boy.

And later on, he'll teach you all the things

you ever need to know in the jungle.

Then look out, all you lions and tigers...

and snakes and crocodiles and cannibals

out there in the jungle.

The King has a son!

Boy, use both hands.

Tarzan, make him come down.

He'll break his neck.

Tarzan learn when boy.

Neck all right. Boy all right.

I'm always worrying about something,

aren't I?

You know, before Boy came...

I used to worry that one day

you mightn't come home.

Jane home, Tarzan come home.

I suppose just being perfectly happy

makes me afraid.

She's wounded.

Guns. White people.

Where's she going?

She's going a long way

to the elephants' graveyard.

- And she's leaving her baby here with us.

- Who'll take care of him?

Perhaps our Timba

will adopt the poor little thing.

Remember she lost her baby

in the river last year?

Leave him alone, darling.

You can play with him when he

gets to know you a little bit better.

Boy, were you bitten?

- Boy all right.

- Now that he's growing up...

something like this seems to happen

every time we take our eyes off him.

There's never a moment

I'm not afraid for him.

Tarzan, this life's all right for you.

Certainly it's all right for me,

but for a child...

What's the matter?

Take Boy home.

Come on, Boy.

What was that?

Whatever it was, our friends,

the Gabonis, have had enough.

- What was that, Mr. Sande?

- I think that was Tarzan.

Tarzan? What's Tarzan?

We better check our position

with the photographs, Sir Thomas.

Never can tell when the Gabonis

will get their nerve back again.

These pictures match the country,

don't you think, Sande?

According to this,

the plane's almost directly above there...

on top of the escarpment.

We can take a look.

Camp here, Mooloo.

Hang on. Is this Tarzan a white man

or a white ape?

He's white, at any rate.

According to Holt...

he's absolute master

of this whole escarpment.

All right.

They won't charge if we leave them alone.

What's that?

That's just an okapi, Mrs. Lancing.

Okapi? Never heard of it.

A very rare animal.

The old-time hunters used to think it was

a cross between a giraffe and a zebra.

Looks it, too, in a way.

What is it, Mooloo?

- They found the plane!

- Come on.

No question it's their plane.

- Is there any...

- Not a trace. Clean as a whistle.

You certainly do what you undertake.

You brought us right to the place.

So all we need now is an affidavit

from Mr. Sande here...

to the effect

that we've discharged our obligation.

Then we can go home

and live in style for ever after.

It's my belief they survived the crash.

Otherwise, there'd be some sort of trace.

But if they were alive...

surely we'd have had some word

from them in the past five years.

Isn't it possible

they're being held somewhere?

- Held?

- Yes, captive in some native juju hut.

- Magic and all that.

- It's most unlikely.

- But isn't it possible?

- Yes, it's possible, of course.

Then we'll go on searching

as long as there's the least hope.

If only one of them is alive,

we'll take that one back to England...

no matter who tries to stand in our way.

Boys see tree devil, bwana.

Tarzan.

Looks like a warning against trespassing.

Which means that if we keep on...

we're certain to meet the one person

who may have definite news for us.

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