Original subtitles

(African tribal drumming)

(dramatic music)

(majestic music)

- [Voiceover] Africa: a country that for centuries

was hidden from civilized man.

Africa: a country of grandeur,

power, beauty,

and sudden death.

Africa: where primitive tribes still practice evil religions

which weave a dark web of death

around all who sin against their gods.

One such god is Simba

the lion.

(ominous music)

And for any man who dares to kill a lion,

the penalty is death.

(gunshot rings out)

(lion's paws patter)

(gunshot rings out)

- I'm certain I got him.

- You did.

Mr. Radlett, hitting without killing

is worse than not hitting at all.

- What's that supposed to mean?

- Well, you can't leave a wounded lion

roaming about the bush.

- You mean we have to go after it, then?

- Not we.

Me.

(ominous music)

Tell the boys to spread out,

don't bunch up,

and don't get ahead of me.

- Okay, Mr. Mike.

(speaks foreign language)

- No, well, maybe he doubled back.

- You know he hasn't.

He's gone over there.

I need two of your best boys.

- That is Simbaza territory.

- So what?

- You can't go there.

- Don't be a damn fool, you know I have to.

- They won't follow you, and I'm not gonna make 'em.

- All right. They can stay behind.

- I'll stay here too.

- Oh, now, don't tell me you believe

all that mumbo jumbo.

- I have been here long enough

never to dismiss anything as mumbo jumbo.

- All right. Saidi and I will go in alone.

We'll kill the lion and be back by nightfall.

- No, Mr. Mike.

(brooding music)

- He can't make the kill on his own.

- He has to.

- But I wounded it. I should be with him.

Well, who are the Simbaza, anyway?

- They're a tribe that worship lions.

- Well, is there anything so very terrible about that?

- They also practice a very potent black magic.

- Oh, come off it!

- Mr. Radlett, this is neither Southend nor Surrey.

These people are further from civilization

than Stone Age men.

- Yes, but he didn't seem to be very frightened, did he?

- He's either a fool or a very brave man.

(majestic music)

(birds chirp)

- You better wait here.

(lion roars)

(gunshots ring out)

- He got him! I wish I'd been with him.

(Mike grunts)

- All right, all right, get on with it.

(tribal drums beat in fast tempo)

- What does that mean?

- That the hunter has become the hunted, Mr. Radlett.

- This be bad place, Mr. Mike.

We must leave here quick!

- Not before we get that skin for Mr. Radlett.

(he gasps in pain)

(tribal drums beat)

- 11 foot from nose to tail.

- Certainly was a magnificent specimen.

What does a lion like that weigh?

- About 500 pounds, I'd say.

- Shot many?

- Too many.

(men speak foreign language)

Damn boys, they're getting out of hand.

- They're scared.

- Of what?

- Of that drum, for one thing.

- Oh, Africa's full of drums.

- Not Simbaza drums.

- Simbaza. If that nonsense were true,

I would have been dead long ago, and they know it.

- Look, I wish you'd explain all this to me.

- You tell him.

- The Simbaza believe that the lion is a god,

and anyone who kills one is instantly avenged.

- That proves it's rubbish for a start.

I've killed dozens of them.

- Not in Simbaza territory.

- Simbaza. The Simbazas are just a backwoods tribe

that would come and carry your bags

for two cents a day like all the rest.

(frenetic drumming and chanting)

- Haven't you had enough?

- I've never had enough.

(drums fall suddenly silent)

- Quiet!

Listen.

- I can't hear anything.

- A moment ago, the bush was alive with sounds.

(mysterious music)

If you come in peace, o Chief,

you are welcome.

(ominous music)

(spear thumps)

(men chat)

- I need a drink.

- There'll be plenty when we go back to Johannesburg.

- Johannesburg?

The safari isn't over yet!

- Yes. Major Lomas says safari's finished.

- Major.

What's all this?

- We're going back to Jo'burg, Mike.

- Like hell we are.

- Well, all our bearers, except Pakari there

and Saidi, ran out on us.

And we can't conduct a safari without bearers.

- Ran out on us?

- Well, quite frankly, I don't blame them.

After last night.

- That charade! If they'd meant to kill me,

that spear would have been aimed higher.

- Yeah, well, maybe, but the bearers

don't think that.

Load up, Pakari.

Yes. You're bad luck now, Mike.

- Saidi, do you believe that?

(majestic, dramatic orchestralmusic)

(frenetic tribal drumming)

(man mutters ominously)

(dramatic music)

(they grunt with effort)

(Saidi yells)

- Bastard!

- What's going on?

What the hell are you doing? (gunshot rings out)

How would you explain that to the police?

- How do you explain him trying to knife you, eh?

(African jazz music)

Mr. Stacey's house?

Yes, well, is he in?

Well, I'd like to speak to him.

Oh. Do you know where he is?

Major Lomas speaking.

All right.

Yes, I'll find him.

Thank you.

- Not there.

- No.

- Probably drinking himself into oblivion.

- Well, would you blame him?

- Yes, I would!

It was exactly that which drove Janet away.

- I still can't believe it.

When did she leave?

- Yesterday.

- She took the boy with her?

Poor Mike.

- Yes, poor Mike.

- [Major Lomas] Well, he worships her.

- When he's sober.

- Oh, come now, it's not so bad as all that.

- I didn't really liked Janet when she first came out.

She seemed to be typical stuck up English deb.

Thought we were all a lot of uncouth savages.

I was wrong, she was just shy.

She didn't find it easy to fit in.

- That's no excuse for her breaking up her marriage.

Mike gave her everything she could want.

- Everything. Except a sense of being wanted.

- You can't be married to a big game hunter,

expect him to behave like Little Lord Fauntleroy.

Crying to Mamma every 10 minutes.

- Oh, you just don't understand.

- Well, I'm sorry, Mike may have some faults

but being a bad husband isn't one of them.

(bongo drums flourish)

(sultry jazz music)

(music takes on distinct African tribal overtones)

(audience claps)

- Well, speak of the devil.

(Major Lomas grunts)

- Hello, Mike. How are you?

- Well, well.

Major Lomas the fearless bushbaby.

Give me a bourbon.

- Betty's here. She'd like to see you.

- I'll bet. Every she-vulture in town is waiting

to gloat over my breaking heart.

- Well, why don't you join us with your drink?

- All right.

Well, I suppose you think Janet is right.

- Since you ask, yes.

- Well, what do you think I oughta do?

- [Betty] Do you want her back?

- 'Course I do.

- Well, go after her, then.

- [Mark] To London?

- [Betty] Can't you afford it?

- [Mark] Well yes, but I've got another safari in four days.

- Oh well.

If your job's more important to you than your marriage,

Janet's right, isn't she?

(jet engines roar)

(ominous music)

- Madam.

- That will be all, Amy.

Good afternoon, Michael.

- I'd like to see Janet.

- My daughter doesn't want to see you.

- Well, let her tell me that.

- You're staying in town?

- Yes, at the Berners. Why?

- She can call you there if she wants.

- I'd like to see her now.

- I won't having you telling me what you want

in my own home.

- [Mark] I just want to see my wife.

- [Janet's mother] I won't permit it.

Your irresponsible behavior over the last few months

has made Janet very unhappy.

And what about Thomas?

What sort of life has he had with his father

away all the time?

- [Mark] That's a matter between Janet and myself.

- No, Michael. I won't have you hurting her again.

- Mother!

Hello, Mike.

- Hello, Janet.

Can't we talk this over somewhere privately?

- Janet?

- I can handle this.

- Are you sure?

- Please.

I didn't expect you so soon.

- Daddy! Daddy!

Daddy, Daddy, you said you'd bring me a tiger.

- I said I'd bring you a lion.

And I did, too.

- Tommy, go and show granny your new toy.

- Granny! Look what Daddy brought me from Africa.

- It's very nice, Tommy.

- Why didn't you wait until I got back from safari?

- What would have been the use?

I'd already made up my mind.

- You mean your mother's mind.

- Mother wasn't in Johannesburg.

I made this decision on my own.

- What about Tommy? We've got to think about him.

- He's the one person I do think about.

- Look, at least we can talk things over.

- You don't change, do you?

You still think if you push hard enough

you'll get what you want.

- Have dinner with me tonight where we can talk alone.

- It would only end in a brawl.

- All I want to do is sit down across a table

and talk quietly like husband and wife.

- That's the one thing we've never been able to do.

- Well, at least we can try.

I'll pick you up here tonight.

- Time for Tommy's tea.

- Well, will you?

- I don't know.

- You won't forget that the Browns

are coming in for drinks, will you, Janet?

I'm sorry, Michael, we're expecting guests.

- Janet?

- I don't know Mike, I'll see.

- I'll meet you tonight in my hotel

in the downstairs bar.

- I should have thought that

that was the last place for a reconciliation.

- Remember: tonight at 9:30 in the bar.

(pleasant, catchy jazz music)

- Thanks for the drink.

Enjoying your stay here?

- Not very much.

Just got stood up by my wife.

Oh, to hell with it.

Can I buy you a drink?

- Yes, if you like.

Well, hadn't you better sit down?

- All right.

What can I get you?

- Oh, gin and French, please.

- Gin and French and another whisky, please.

Staying in the hotel?

- No, I'm staying at a girlfriend's.

She's gone out of town for a few days and

I couldn't bear sitting looking at four walls.

- I know what you mean.

(bar tender mumbles)

Thank you.

- Well, thanks.

- Health and happiness.

- Cheers.

- I'm sorry, sir. We're closed.

- All right, my friend, we'll be out in a minute.

Well,

I guess it's good night.

- I don't want to be alone tonight.

Will you stay with me?

- My hotel room?

- My place?

- All right.

(seductive jazz music)

(energetic tribal drumming and singing)

(Simbaza tribesmen holler)

(Mike yells in pain)

Saidi! Watch out!

Watch out! (he gasps)

What happened?

- You passed out.

- I was dreaming.

- And how!

(he gasps)

- What time is it?

- About four.

Oh, you need new bandage on there!

- No, no.

Where is this?

- My flat!

- Look, I'm terribly sorry, but

I must leave.

(pensive clarinet music)

(tribal drumming)

(lion roars)

(lion roars)

(suspenseful music)

(lion roars)

(Mike screams)

- That arm should have been attended to last night.

The stitches have broken.

- I had a bad dream.

I didn't wanna go out.

- Well, it must have been a pretty violent

nightmare, Mr. Stacey,

to cause that sort of damage.

- It was.

Very violent.

- Oh well,

it'll heal as good as new now,

with rest.

(he chuckles) A lion, you said? (he chuckles)

That's a new one on me.

- Doctor,

stitches bursting like that.

Have you known it to happen before?

- Well, it's not a common occurrence,

but well it does happen occasionally.

Yes, it must have been a very violent dream,

Mr. Stacey. Good bye.

(knocking on door)

- May I come in? I just wanna talk to you.

I remember this place.

I couldn't have been that drunk last night.

- Look, I'm very tired. I didn't sleep much.

- Before I left,

did I say anything?

- Well, now, do you think we wrote notes to each other?

- No, no, I mean did I say or do

anything strange?

- You had a nightmare.

You were rambling on about somebody called

Saidi?

God knows what sort of nonsense.

(he grunts)

On the way back to the hotel,

I thought I heard something.

- [Woman] What?

- I thought I heard a lion roaring.

- Well, so did I.

- You did?

- Well of course!

What else do you expect with a zoo

only 500 yards away?

- The zoo!

And I thought I was being chased by a lion.

- The way you screamed last night,

you must have been caught by one!

- Sorry. I just had to get it straightened out in my mind.

Well, I guess I'd better go, hadn't I?

(bar music)

I thought maybe you wouldn't turn up.

- You sounded so strange on the phone.

What's the matter?

- I bought you a drink.

- You look tired.

- Well, when you didn't come last night,

I went out.

- Well, I didn't promise that I'd come.

- Look, I wanna talk to you.

Straighten things out.

- Oh, Mike.

What is there left to talk about?

- I wanna take you and Tommy back with me.

- I'm sorry, no.

- Look, all I want is a chance to make amends.

Now, I'll give you a return ticket,

you and the boy.

You can come back any time you want to,

I won't try and follow you.

- What's wrong?

- I just wanna get away from London, that's all.

I wanna get away.

- But you've only been here two days!

- I know, I know, but--

(tribal drumming)

(dramatic chord)

Did you see him?

- Did I see who?

- He was there!

He was right there, staring at me!

- Who was there?

Mike!

(suspenseful music)

(dramatic chord)

(gong clashes)

- You mean to say that he got you to go

all the way to the hotel and then just left you there?

- It was strange, as if he'd seen a ghost.

- What do you expect from a man who drinks like he does?

- No, it wasn't that.

There was something in his face,

something I've never seen before.

Mike was scared. He was really scared.

(bird screeches)

(knocking at door)

- Where would you like the drink, sir?

- Put it on the dresser, please.

(creepy chanting in foreign language)

Do you hear something?

- What kind of thing, sir?

- Oh, nothing.

- Will that be all, sir?

- Oh, yes.

- Thank you, sir.

- Thank you.

(door opens and closes)

(suspenseful music)

(doorknob rattles softly)

Who's there?

Who is it?

Janet?

(suspenseful music)

(ominous music)

(dramatic musical flourish)

(gunshots ring out)

- How many drinks did you have today?

I said how many drinks did you have today?

- I was not drunk.

It was there, it was right there,

I did not imagine it.

- Sorry, madam, but you can't come in here.

- What's going on here?

- Are you a friend of Mr. Stacey's?

- I'm his wife. What happened?

Mike, what's wrong? Why are the police here?

- Your husband fired four shots

through that door.

- But why?

- He said he was attacked by a

Simbaza tribesman.

- He was there, he was right outside the door.

Janet, you've got to believe me.

- Fortunately, no one's been hurt, Madam,

so I don't think we'll be taking any action.

Oh I understand that your husband

was mauled by a lion less than a week ago.

Unnerving experience.

See he gets plenty of rest, eh?

Oh, before I go,

I think it might be best if

I hold on to this for a week or two.

Till Mr. Stacey's feeling better, eh?

Good night, Madam, Mr. Stacey.

- [Janet] Good night.

(door closes)

- Maybe you'd better go, too.

Maybe it isn't safe to be alone with me.

- I want to help you, Mike.

I think you need me now.

- So you think it's the DTs, too.

- Don't you see this is the way it would happen?

First of all a native outside the door.

Soon, it will be snakes on the ceiling!

- I was not drunk.

Maybe you'd better go.

- I came here because the hotel people called me.

I thought perhaps I could help you.

- I don't need any help.

- No, Mike. You never did.

(wistful music)

(tribal drumming)

(dramatic music)

(ominous muttering in foreign language)

(suspenseful music)

(tribal drumming) (man mutters ominously)

(Mike cries out in pain)

- Wound's infected.

Poison's made him very weak.

I don't like the way the arm's healing.

It's taking far too long.

Plenty of rest is what he needs, Mrs. Stacey.

- Doctor, these hallucinations he's been having...

- Well, possibly delirium caused by that infected arm.

Or perhaps

delirium of a different kind.

I understand your husband's a very heavy drinker.

- But not a drunkard.

- Well, I suppose with some you see it happening.

You get some kind of warning.

But with others...

Anyway, you certainly can't say that his actions today

have been rational.

- Doctor, he is not a drunkard.

- That injection will help keep the fever down.

When he wakes up, two sedatives.

Oh, Mrs. Stacey, I wish you'd let me

send the nurse along.

- No, I can look after him.

I want to.

- Very well.

I'll drop by tomorrow, then.

(tribal drumming)

(man speaks in foreign language)

(wistful music)

(tribal drumming)

(ominous muttering in foreign language)

(frenetic tribal drumming)

- Help! Help!

- Mike, what is it?

- Simbaza!

Take it away.

Don't let it touch me!

- This will help you to sleep.

- No!

No I,

I mustn't sleep!

Mustn't

mustn't sleep.

(he mutters)

(knocking at door)

- He's sleeping, if you can call it sleep.

- How long are you going to stay here?

- I'm not leaving here tonight.

- What about Tommy?

- You'll look after him, I know.

- Come home, Janet.

There's nothing you can do here.

- He needs me.

For the first time in his life,

he needs me.

(high energy tribal drumming)

(man shouts in foreign language)

(doctor sighs)

- I don't like it at all.

It's three days.

That wound should be healing fast.

The amount of penicillin I've stabbed into him,

the infection should be under control by now.

I can't keep him under sedation indefinitely.

- He sleeps, but he doesn't rest.

Most of the time he's delirious.

He barely recognizes me.

- Mrs. Stacey,

it isn't a question of the arm any longer.

Now look, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but

well, you'll have to know it sooner or later.

The sickness is here.

But the strange thing is,

I don't think I've ever seen a basically healthy man

disintegrate so rapidly.

These past few weeks he's lost

almost a stone in weight.

I think perhaps we'd better have

a second opinion.

- Second opinion?

- Dr. Thomas.

He's a very good friend of mine.

He's principal of the Whittingham Hospital.

- Whittingham? But that's a mental institution!

- Primarily, but they treat all kinds of cases.

- No, Mike isn't insane!

- Mrs. Stacey,

we must face the facts.

His condition is worsening every hour.

- I won't let you send him to that place!

- All right.

We'll see if there's some improvement

in the next 24 hours.

But after that, I can't accept responsibility

for keeping him here.

Well, the last injection I gave him was a big one.

It may jolt some reaction out of him.

- He looks so tired.

- So do you, Mrs. Stacey.

I don't want another patient on my hands.

Call me if anything happens.

(Mike breathes heavily)

(dramatic chord)

- [Voiceover] Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!

(dramatic music)

- [African scholar] When you phoned, Mrs. Stacey,

you left no information as to the purpose of your visit.

- I want you to tell me what you know

about a primitive tribe called the Simbazas.

- I have a comprehensive tribe on the Tinomiko tribe.

That is their correct title, you know.

Simbaza is merely a description accorded them

because of certain customs they have

involving the worship of Simba, the lion.

- Is it possible that they still worship lions?

- I would imagine that many of the old fetishes,

the taboos, still remain for them, yes.

- The taboo against killing a lion?

- I imagine so.

- If someone, a stranger, entered Simbaza territory

and killed a lion,

what penalty would the tribe exact?

- In the old days,

the penalty would undoubtedly have been death.

- And what form would that penalty take?

- If it were possible,

then death would be quick and immediate, to fit the crime.

- And if it were not possible?

- A curse.

Seeking out across continents,

hounding and haunting a man

no matter where he might hide.

The gradual destruction of mind and body and spirit.

- Do you mean black magic?

But surely no civilized person believes in such a thing!

- You are a European.

How could I expect you to understand

something I am unable to explain to myself?

Some might call it the psychology of the guilt-ridden.

Others prefer to call it praying a man to death.

I can only say that I have seen this thing myself.

I have seen many try to fight the curse

withering, sinking,

dying.

- My husband shot a lion in Simbaza territory.

He is here now, in England.

Dying.

- A man's guilt is a mirror, Mrs. Stacey.

An African proverb.

I mean that your husband's only hope of survival

is to return to the scene of his crime,

seek out the man who cursed him,

and slay him.

- But that's impossible!

He's too weak to move.

- Then I am afraid I can offer you no other advice.

- Thank you. Good bye.

- I'm sorry I couldn't assist you further.

- That's all he could tell me.

Praying a man to death.

But it's incredible!

- I'm afraid it's all too possible.

And I'm the living proof of it.

Janet, come here. Come here.

- [Janet] Darling, you can't get up.

- Stand right there.

Cable Lomas.

Tell him I'm coming back to kill that devil.

It's my only chance.

- Major Lomas is here.

- Ah, Mike.

- Hello, Major.

It's good to see you.

I know, it's hard to believe after so short a time.

- No, you look fine Mike, fine.

- Don't bother, Major, we know each other

too well for that.

Did you get the bearers?

- You can't go through with this.

- Did you fix it?

- It's a tough trip even for a fit man.

- I've got to go back.

I've got to go back to where it all began.

It's my only chance. I must do it!

- I'm coming with you.

- No, you're not.

I want you to stay here with Janet.

- The Simbazi will be waiting for you.

- I know.

That's the chance I'll have to take.

(dramatic, majestic music)

(Simbaza shout, Saidi yells in pain)

(gunshot rings out)

(gunshot rings out)

(Saidi mutters)

(gunshots ring out)