All language subtitles for 416. Small Game for Big Hunters

(music)

(theme music)

(tribal drums beating)

(insects buzzing)

(birds calling)

(drum rhythms
grow more complex)

(crickets chirp,
frogs croak)

(splashing)

(tribal chanting)

(bird calls)

(chanting continues)

(animals screeching)

Man:
It's uncanny, Steed.

The amount of stimulant
I've pumped into him,

he ought to be showing
some signs of life
by now.

Steed:
Not a murmur.

Ah, Mrs. Peel.

- Good morning, Steed.
- Good morning.

Mrs. Peel, may I introduce
Dr. Gibson, Mrs. Peel.

Morning.

The gentleman in the bed is
a latter-day Sleeping Beauty.

His name is Kendrick,
Gatt Kendrick,
a local farmhand.

Dr. Gibson there found him
on the Great South Road
and brought him here.

And I'm not having him moved,

not until he shows
some sign of recovery.

Which suits us very well.

If you want us,
we'll be in the next room.

Steed, what is wrong
with that man?

He's in a coma,
but why?

That's what we're
here to find out.

Notice something about him,
how well he looks?

Yes, he's got
a good suntan.

He was wearing
these clothes.

Tropical kit.

Strange garb
for this climate,
don't you think?

Well, he's probably just
come back from somewhere.

Well, no doubt about that.

Kendrick disappeared
four days ago,

along with
three other locals.

He's the only one
to turn up so far.

Oh, yes, I forgot
to mention it.

He had that arrow
stuck in his back,

only a flesh wound,
though.

It must be some
kind of poison,
a paralyzing drug.

No, Dr. Gibson examined it
under the microscope.

No trace of a drug.

Intriguing, isn't it?

The middle of
the English countryside,

up pops a missing man

sporting a tan it would
take months to acquire,

wearing tropical clothes

and with a native arrow
in his back.

Steed.

(moaning)

Kendrick?

Kendrick?

Kendrick?

(moaning)

Four days ago,
you left your home.

Where did you go?

Where did you go?

(distant tribal drumming)

Steed...

Listen.

(humming)

Professor Swain?

Let me help you.

Oh, thank you,
thank you, dearie.

You must be Mrs. Peel?

- Yes, how do you do?
- How do you do?

It was very good of you
to come down
on such short notice.

Oh, not at all,
not at all.

Something of acute interest
to me, you said.

Yes, I believe
you're an expert
on primitive tribes.

Oh, ho ho, you flatter me,
dear lady, you flatter me.

No, it's an interest,
an interest,

possibly
a passing interest.

No, by profession,
I'm an entomologist.

My knowledge of primitive
peoples is, well...

No, I lectured on entomology
at the Kalayan University

until the new government
took over.

Then like so many
of my colleagues,

I came back here,

and very happy
to be back, too.

Professor, do you have
experience of Shirenzai?

Yes.

What do you know
about it?

Does Shirenzai
really exist?

Yes.

An odd admission
from a Westerner, eh?

Oh, yes, yes, it exists.

A cult peculiar
to Kalaya,

a more dreaded form
of, uh,

well, for want of
a better term, voodoo,

with roots as
deep and mystical
as the world itself.

Oh, just a moment.

I think I might
have something here

of particular interest
to you.

Yes, yes, yes,
here it is, here it is.

Now, you see Shirenzai
in the Kalayan tongue

means
"the curse of sleep."

A curse inflicted
upon evildoers
by the ancient gods

who resided within
this forbidden area

protected
by these holy men.

Now, to enter
the forbidden area
was to transgress.

To transgress,
Shirenzai.

Excuse me.

Certainly.

(wooden flute playing)

Used by the holy men, Aradi,
the sweet sound of hell,

the inescapable sound that
precedes the everlasting sleep.

Professor, you've seen
victims of Shirenzai?

Oh, indeed, yes.

And you'd recognize
the symptoms

if you saw them
again?

Better than that,

I could tell for sure
with this.

You see, one holds it
over the victim

and if the Shirenzai
has taken over,

round it goes.

I could give you
a practical demonstration

if you could find me
a suitable subject.

I think it could
be arranged.

My goodness, sir,
this is a relic.

One of our old mid-tropical,
five-button, broad weaves.

But who was it
made for?

Oh, it'll be
on the file, sir.

Off to the tropics,
are you, sir?

Thinking about it.

Well, you couldn't
come to a better place.

This establishment prides
itself on its service.

No matter where you are,
steaming jungle, burning bush

or arid desert, we always
get our order through.

By plane
to the nearest airport,

motor vehicle
to the nearest village

and thence by native bearer

to the very flap
of your bivouac.

After big game,
are you, sir?

Very big.

We specialize there, too.

All the best hunters
come here.

Simon Trent for one.

Oh, yes, one of our
very best customers.

Splendid chap, sir.

Once shot a bull elephant
with a single barrel

at 40 paces,
or, um, was it 30?

Do much shooting, sir?

On occasions.

I once shot
a bull elephant myself.

Really?
What did you use?

F8 at 500th of a second
and a small roll of film.

Oh. (Chuckles) Oh, yes.

Ah, yes, here we are, sir.

The shirt was made
for Colonel Rawlings,

17 Battalion Fusiliers,
dispatched to him by steamship.

- Where?
- Um, Kalaya.

When?

May 14, 1929.

Well, this is mumbo-jumbo
quackery.

Dr. Gibson, we can
at least try.

Oh, that's mine.

The car seat's
very uncomfortable.

Now, first,

I must anoint
the afflicted man
with this.

Why, this is
ridiculous.

What do you expect to achieve
with this nonsense?

Mrs. Peel: Well,
you must admit, so far

conventional medicine's
had no effect.

Dr. Gibson: Very well.
But it's your responsibility.

I'll have no part of it.

(moans)

(moaning)

Shirenzai, Shirenzai.

(drums beating)

(animals hooting)

I'm sorry, Mrs. Peel,
there's nothing more I can do.

I have diagnosed the sickness,
I do not hold the cure.

He sleeps the sleep
of the living death.

There's no awakening him,

not by any means
I have at my command.

But surely there
must be something.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Peel.

Professor Swain,
we're not living
in a primitive jungle.

This is Hertfordshire,
England.

Yes, yes, that's
the puzzling part:

how the poor chap
came to offend.

Offend whom?

A curse that follows across
continents, across the world.

The Kalayan gods,
this is their punishment.

The man is doomed.

He'll sleep
and eventually he'll rise

and walk the dark forests
of hell for all eternity.

Walk? That man couldn't
take a single step.

There's no response,
no reflex action.

Nevertheless,
that is the legend.

The dark forests of hell
for all eternity.

Professor, are there
any members of this tribe

living in Britain?

Students, perhaps,
or emigrants.

Well, I really
couldn't say.

Well, perhaps I can phone
the Kalayan embassy
and find out.

Well, you can try,

but my experience
of that government

is that they are
extremely unhelpful.

Well, I shall try.

Well, goodbye,
Mrs. Peel.

Thank you, Professor.

Oh, get me the Kalayan
embassy, please.

No, Kalayan.

K for Katie, A for apple,
L for love.

Yes, I've got that,
Ex-Servicemen's Club.

Is that all?

All right, thank you.

I've heard of 40 winks,
but this is ridiculous.

Same as Kendrick?

Not a murmur
since I found him.

I'll have to get
someone in to help you.

Pity, though.
I wanted to keep this quiet.

I can handle it.

Mrs. Peel, I wouldn't
dream of leaving you here

all on your own.

Really, Steed,
I can manage.

(yawns)

Oh, don't worry,
I'm an insomniac.

This Swain,
did you believe
what he told you?

Well, it all sounded
pretty fantastic,

but taken in context
with what's been
happening here...

Under some ancient
Kalayan spell.

Could be.

Kendrick was
in the army once,

served most of
his time in Kalaya.

So did the other three
locals who disappeared.

A curse that follows
one across continents.

That's what
Professor Swain said

and, you know,
I'm beginning
to believe him.

- What else did he say?
- Oh, nothing much.

I took the trouble
to phone the Kalayan embassy

and find out how many nationals
there are living over here.

- And?
- Actually,
there are very few.

Three or four
work in restaurants

and the rest are servants
in the Kalayan
Ex-Servicemen's Club.

It's a weird
sort of organization

run by a man
called Rawlings.

Rawlings?
A Colonel Rawlings?

Yes, why?

Well,
that tropical gear.

That was bought in 1929
by a Colonel Rawlings.

Well, he's probably
dead by now.

No, I checked up
at the War Office.

He's one of
those old stayers.

He did his entire military
service in Kalaya.

In fact, he stayed on
there after he retired,

but when the Kalayans
took over the country,

he was turfed out.

Hang on, I've got
his file in my car.

Had a spot of bother
with the natives,

a full-blown savage with
a very unfriendly disposition.

- Oh, come now, Steed.
- It's the truth.

He was wearing war paint,
sacrificial knife, the lot.

He practically ruined
my bowler hat.

Didn't do this
much good either.

What's missing?

Colonel Rawlings' file.

Fortunately, he overlooked
my cucumber sandwiches.

Oh, good.

Mmm.

What about
Colonel Rawlings?

Oh, that's no loss.
I read the thing twice.

I got enough of the details.

Enough?

To infiltrate the Kalayan
Ex-Servicemen's Association

and meet Colonel Rawlings.

By the way,
what's the address
of the organization?

Oh, that's
no problem.

See that house
at the bottom
of the garden?

That's the Willows,
the home of
Colonel Rawlings

and the headquarters of
the Kalayan Ex-Servicemen's
Association.

Now, isn't that
a coincidence?

Isn't it just?

(rustling)

Take me to your leader.

You should have tried
the front door.

It's far less hazardous.

Fine time to tell me.
Ooh.

Steed, Major Steed.

For identification
purposes.

Thanks.

Can I pick
your pocket now?

Trent, Simon Trent.

Of course.

Your reputation
precedes you.

Shot a bull elephant
at 50 paces, isn't that so?

Oh, that's not all
I've shot in my time.

But there can't be
much hunting around here.

Oh, you'd be surprised.

It's amazing what turns up
in the trap sometimes.

Isn't it?

And then
the only thing to do

is to... put it out
of its misery.

Are you here
to see the colonel?

- That was the idea.
- What about?

(fingersnap)
I tell you what,

you join us,
you eavesdrop.

Major, you're not
very grateful.

After all, if I hadn't
turned up when I did,

you might have been
stuck up there for days.

I'll show you
my gratitude.

If I hear of anyone
being pestered by
a bull elephant,

I'll let you know,
all right?

Now, perhaps we'd better
find the colonel.

Well, if you want
to see him,

you'd better dress
for the occasion.

Hardly the thing to wear
where you're going,
old boy.

I think we can find
something to fit you,
Major.

(tropical birds call)

Whew.

You'll soon get
acclimatized, Major.

The tropical temperature
is maintained

by under-soil heating,

the humidity by spray,

and the growth
by filtered ultraviolet.

One really might be back
in the Kalayan jungle,
mightn't one?

One might indeed.

(jungle animals
call and screech)

Better stick close,
Major.

The jungle can be
treacherous.

(clatter)

(window bangs)

Well, I suppose
we can term you
as a guest, Major.

(claps hands)

The colonel.

Oh, yes.

Colonel, sir.

Colonel Rawlings,
a visitor for you, sir.

(grumbles)

Well, this blasted place
is like a crematorium.

The fans turning,
are they?

Are they?

Yes, of course, sir.

(sniffs)

Rain.
Can smell it.

Monsoon's on the way.

That means mud,
filthy mud everywhere.

Still, "Imperius prius ipse."

Empire before self.
(chortling)

Someone to see you, sir.

Oh, well.

Oh! Ha, wearing
me old colors.

Yeah, me old regiment.

Presented after Mafeking.

You weren't there,
were you?

Oh, no,
of course not.

Still I know you,
yes, yes, yes, it's, um...

Major...

(blusters)
Don't tell me.

Don't tell me,
no, no, no, no.

Never forget a face
or a name.

Yeah, used to know all
of Kitchener's staff.

Could recite them backwards.

Yes, yes, you're Major...
I know it's Major...

Steed.

Steed. Steed?

Is it?
Of course it is.

I knew you at once.

Yes, Number 4 Company,
wasn't it?

Number 2, sir,
I met you at Solunda.

Solunda,
our regimental dinner.

- Farewell party.
- Whose?

Yours, sir.

Yeah, of course,
of course, course.

All right,
stand at ease.

There's no ceremony
in the mess.

What have you been
up to?

Oh, when I got my gratuity,
I got a plantation, rubber.

Wise. Wise lad.

Sound investment,
can't lose.

I did, sir,
lost the lot

when the new government
took over.

What new government?

This is British territory.

Nobody's taken over here,

and we'll fight
till the last man.

To the last man,
won't we, Trent?

Yes, indeed, sir.

Do you know Trent?

Splendid fellow.
He's got guts.

He downed a bull elephant
at 20 paces.

Or was it 10?

A drink for you,
Colonel?

Oh, yeah,
I'm as dry as a bone.

Major?

It's on my mess bill.

- What's your tipple?
- Brandy, sir.

In this heat?

You'll lacerate your liver.

No, keep it
long and cool.

With a touch of soda.

I'll have the same,
thank you, sir.

Now, three brandies,
my dear, would you?

Yes, sir.

No, not that one,
the other bottle.

He couldn't survive
the winds of change.

Shock softened his brain.

He's like a tropical plant.

He'd die
in any other conditions.

This is an exact replica
of the old clubhouse.

He still thinks he's there.

And you play him along.

Yes, and in return,
we have an ideal retreat.

He has a nice line
in au pair.

We've got a whole tribe
of them out there.

Adds a little reality.

How did you get here,
Major?

Came upriver,
I suppose.

- I said,
you come upriver?
- Yes, sir.

Ah. Tricky journey,
that,

especially during
the rainy season.

(tribal music)

Ah, that's better.

It's always better
after sundown,

that blistering heat.

You know, it's
at times like these

that I long to be back
in the old country.

Yes, back in old
Mother England.

Often dream about it,

little house of my own
somewhere in the country.

Hertfordshire.

Yeah. I'd plump
for Hertfordshire,

the English countryside.

Oh, there's nothing
to beat it.

You been back home
recently, Major?

Fairly recently,
yes, Colonel.

Is it still as green
as ever?

- (insect buzzing)
- Blast.

This country,
uncivilized.

Sometimes wonder
why I stay here.

Duty, you know.

Talking of duty,
it's time I inspected
the club area.

Yes, we'll have it
swept clean and tidy,
you know.

Just 'cause
you're out here,

no lowering
of the standards.

Oh, no, no.
We like to do things

as though we were
back home in England.

- Ah, Fleming.
- Good evening, sir.

Trent, just been
out to the cottage.

- Both of them are there...
- Fleming, I don't think

you've met
John Steed, have you?
An old compatriot.

He's only just arrived,
hasn't had time to
settle down yet.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

Fleming's our pet
rubber expert,

experimenting with
some new strains,

- aren't you, Fleming?
- Yes, well, of course,

this is about the only place
with ideal conditions.

I would have thought
Kalaya had

the tiniest edge
over it.

Yes, well,
I mean the only place

in this part of the world,
of course.

All the same,
a very strange place
to grow rubber,

isn't it, England?

Is Kalaya barred
to you?

Steed, would you
excuse us?

Fleming, would you
come with me?

I want to talk
to you about

those test trees
on the north side.

I'm rather worried
about those.

You darn fool.

I told you to be
more careful.

I'm sorry, Trent,
I didn't see him.

Do you play polo,
Major?

When I can, sir.

I played first team,
number three myself.

We got through
to the army finals
at Jedra.

Did you?

You know Jedra?

A passing
acquaintance.

Astonishing place,

white man's grave.

It used to be sticky,
devilish sticky.

I got a snap of me astride
on a polo pony somewhere.

You want to see?
Yeah, of course you do.

Come on.

Now, I've got them
all here somewhere.

Here we are,
it's the army team of '31.

Fine bunch of fellows,
isn't it?

That's Tubby Johnson there.

Behind that dratted thumb.

That dashed man never could
take a decent photograph.

Yeah, we got through
to the finals.

Had a terrific fight.

We got it all sewn up
in the final chukker...

(drums playing)

when Johnson came
swishing through...

You listening,
Major?

Yes, Colonel,
I'm listening.

(door creaks)

(slams)

Your play, Colonel.

Ah, you think you've
got me, don't you?

Well, it's not
as easy as all that.

Cards are
my strong point.

Got a mathematical
turn of mind.

Yes, a very pretty move
on your part, but...

Snap.

(laughs)

Tell me, Colonel, have you
known Trent for a long time?

Trent? Ah, he's
a splendid fellow.

Do you know he once
downed a bull elephant
at...

20 paces.
Yes, I know.

How did you get
to know him?

(voices speaking
Kalayan language)

Two more, poor devils.

What's wrong
with them?

Asleep.

They've had a bad
outbreak of it lately.

Sleep?

The sleep of
the living death.

I see you've spotted
our little charade.

It all helps
with the illusion.

Needn't bother us,
though.

And it amuses
the old boy.

Convincing illusion.

Well, Colonel, I really think
I better be getting back.

- Getting back?
- Upriver.

Oh, we can't allow
that, can we?

Tell him, Trent.

The river floods
at this time of the year.

You'd have great difficulty
in getting anyone

willing to take a boat
out onto it.

But really,
I'm perfectly capable.

Far too dangerous,
old chap.

And you wouldn't want
to upset the colonel,
now, would you?

No, I wouldn't think
of sending my worst enemy

out on that river
during the rainy season.

No, no, we can put him up,
can't we, Trent?

Oh, yes, indeed,
sir.

Delighted to have
you stay, Major.

Would you care
for another drink?

(pounding the bar)

The dark forests of hell
for all eternity.

Well, I did warn you,
Mrs. Peel.

Professor Swain,
both those men

were incapable of walking,

and the windows
were firmly locked.

You know,
the European mind
is a literal one.

It demands
explanations, logic.

Now, I've lived
a great part of my life
in the Far East

and I've come to accept
the inexplicable.

I didn't say it
was inexplicable.

I was in the next room.
I dozed off.

It would have been
perfectly possible

for someone to enter
the cottage,

take both these men,
and walk out
right past me.

You really think
that's what happened?

I think it's possible.

It's hard to make you understand
the ways of the native Kalayan.

This legend of the sleep
of the living death.

Now, that was something
I wanted to ask you.

While Kendrick and Gibson
were still here,

I had an opportunity
to study them.

I also had an opportunity
to study this.

Professor, are you familiar
with Glossina Trypanosoma?

Come now, Professor.
You're an entomologist.

Glossina Trypanosoma,
the common or garden
tsetse fly.

Oh, yes, yes,
I'm aware of that,

but what exactly
are you driving at?

Sleeping sickness,
a disease carried
by the tsetse fly,

and according to this book,
the symptoms...

Not those two men.

You don't honestly believe
that I wouldn't recognize

sleeping sickness
if I saw it?

Oh, I didn't say
it was sleeping sickness.

Of course it isn't.

But I said it could
be something like it.

No, no, no, nonsense,
complete nonsense.

I can assure you that
my authority in this field
has never been doubted.

I do not doubt it
now, Professor.

I was merely trying
to point out

that the symptoms
are similar.

Mrs. Peel,

I've given you the benefit
of my experience.

I'm afraid I can be of
no further service to you.

Good night.

Professor Swain?

Professor?

(birds screeching)

(snoring)

(animal screeching)

(ring ring)

(ring... )

Hello?

Mrs. Peel?

Steed, where are you?

Deep in wildest Kalaya.

- What?
- Listen, Kendrick
and Gibson,

they haven't,
by a smallest chance,

taken a little walk,
have they?

How did you know?

They turned up here
last night.

I saw them being
brought in.

- (clatter)
- Steed, there's
something else.

Swain's just disappeared.

He walked out
of the cottage and...

- (footsteps approach)
- Have to go now.

Steed?

Steed?

Ah, up bright
and early, Major?

Morning constitutional,
old habits die hard.

Yes, don't they?

I find the same thing
myself, you know.

This time of day, if I
see something moving...

(cocks rifle)

it's all I can do

to stop myself
from shooting it.

Very upsetting
to the early risers in Kalaya

when you were there.

Oh, it's not loaded,
Major.

Never load a gun unless
you intend to use it.

A good maxim, I think.

And very comforting.

Well, if we get
a move on,

we should be in time
for breakfast.

Must have been
quite a blow to you

when the Kalayans
took over.

What? Oh, yes.

Well, I mean, you had
your own plantation

and all that sort
of thing.

You didn't want to give
that up, did you?

I didn't, indeed.

I remember how I felt,
frustrated.

I wanted to hit back.

Unfortunately,
there is no way

of hitting back,
is there?

Quite.

Well, good morning,
Colonel.

Morning, morning.
Fine one it is, too.

How'd you sleep,
Major?

Very well,
thank you, sir.

Oh, capital, capital.

Have a spot of brekker.

Thank you, sir.

A word with
you, Trent.

Mmm.

Sorry about the cornflakes
being soggy.

It's the journey upriver.

It affects them, you know.

Might go have a bit
of sport later on, eh?

Sir?

Pig-sticking, you know.

Yeah, we might be
able to arrange

a little chase
of some kind.

Well, thank you, sir.

(Kalayan accent)
A thousand pardons,
massa.

The juniper tree,
midnight.

(frogs croaking)

(animals chatter and roar)

(Oxford accent)
Sorry to startle you,
old chap.

Razafi,

Lieutenant Razafi
of the Kalayan
intelligence service.

Oh, how...

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

I've been observing you,
Mr. Steed.

It would appear
that we are working
to the same ends.

I sincerely hope so.

Oh, do forgive me.

Something very strange
going on here, Mr. Steed.

Very strange
and threatening
to my government.

Well, I understand
that Trent and Fleming
were thrown out of Kalaya.

They were not thrown out,
I do assure you.

They just did not choose
to remain under our rule.

All the same,
they do bear a grudge.

They're planning
something.

All that business
at the cottage,

the sleep of
the living dead,
Shirenzai.

It's a lot of trickery
to cover the real truth.

And what is
the real truth?

Come with me.

(animals chatter and roar)

You see, Mr. Steed,
there's nothing primitive
about all this.

These men and the others
who disappeared are
just guinea pigs.

- Test cases.
- Testing what?

Well, this is
the cunning thing.
They...

Aah! (Groans)

(shouting in
Kalayan language)

(woman shouting)

You...

You get away,
old chap.

Get away.

Lieutenant Razafi.

A spy, a dirty spy.

Well, old boy,
I've got to hand it to you.

I didn't suspect him
for a moment,

but you spotted him
right away

and dealt with him
quickly and quietly.

I like that.

I suppose it's about time
I did some explaining.

It might help.

I couldn't at first,
you know,

not until we
made sure of you.

You do understand,
don't you?

Mm.

They chuck people like us
out of Kalaya, Steed.

But we're going back
and we're taking this with us.

Recognize them?

- Flies?
- Mm.

A new strain
of tsetse flies.

It's taken a long time
to develop

under these ideal
conditions.

It's a very special strain.

We've made them immune
to all forms of insecticide.

Once they're released,
there's no stopping them.

I think you're beginning
to understand.

I am indeed.

Well, you can see for yourself
how effective they can be.

They won't affect us,
of course.

I'm very glad
to hear it.

A simple,
secret inoculation

ensures
complete protection.

But without that inoculation...

Tomorrow we fly back
to Kalaya, Steed.

We're going back.

Back, and we're taking
this with us,

1,000 of
the little beauties.
That's all we need.

And once they're released
in a climate like that...

They breed like flies.

(chuckles) Yes,
they breed like flies.

The whole country will be
paralyzed within a week.

Then we take over.

A pretty plan,
don't you think?

Professor, this is the chap
I was telling you about,

Major Steed.

Meet the brains
behind the whole thing.

Professor Swain.

You look surprised,
Major.

It's the incongruity,
I suppose,

all this happening
in England.

That's been our strength.

We've been able
to cover up our activity

with a little mumbo jumbo.

(drums playing)

Simple yet so effective.

And ruthless.

There were other
guinea pigs?

Oh, yes,
a few local men

who had served
in Kalaya.

We had to make sure they
hadn't developed an immunity

to our nice, new
tsetse fly.

They hadn't.

No resistance.
No resistance whatever.

It needn't bother us,
though.

Your nice inoculation.

Ensures complete
protection.

We better get you fixed,
by the way.

Oh, Lala, get Mr. Fleming,
will you, please?

Lala, what is the matter
with you?

Losing your wits
or something?

- Take it.
- Ooh.

The canister! Trent!

Don't worry.
They can't get away.

What's all that racket?

Fleming,
what's this all about?

Trouble. That is, just
a local uprising, sir.

(speaks Kalayan language)

Uprising, eh?

Firm hand,
that's what's needed.

Firm hand.

Take them some
colored beads.

Always seems to help.

Steed and a woman
have taken
the canister.

Now split up
and track them down.

(speaking Kalayan language)

Oh, doing a spot
of hunting, eh?

Bring us back a big one.

I'll bring you back
a couple, Colonel.

Well, grab them young
if you can.

The last lot were
as tough as old boots.

I'd like something
a bit tender,

something I can
get my teeth into.

Mrs. Peel?

(cocks rifle)

(gunfire continues)

(animals screeching)

Mauser, single barrel.

- You've had your five.
- (fires)

My arithmetic is shocking.

Aah!

Unh!

By Jove, hah, the natives
are restless tonight.

Aah!

I say, well done, Major.

Bagged a big one, eh?

Have the boys bring him back
and we'll have it stuffed.

Excuse me, Colonel.

Well, ugly-looking brute.

Fleming!

Fleming!

Over here.
We got her.

I'll do it.

You almost spoiled it,
Mrs. Peel.

All that work almost
in jeopardy because of you.

That arouses me to violence.

(Tarzan yell)

Me, Steed.

Me, Emma.

What's in this anyway,
the Crown Jewels?

Creepy, crawly,
germ-laden flies.

Let's get back
to the old country.

(rain falling)

Ah, good old England.

Beautiful weather,
don't you think?

Well, if you're
dressed for it.

These little beauties
won't like it, though.

If the temperature
falls below subtropical...

they die like flies.

Absolutely.

Steady as she goes.

Full speed ahead.

In that case, we'll have
to start the other engine.

Aye, aye, sir.

(theme music)