And now, tonight's presentation of Radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Tonight, we bring you a story of courage on a safari in Africa.
We call it Game Hunt.
So now, starring Raymond Lawrence, here is tonight's Suspense play, Game Hunt.
Move on ahead, will you, Charlie?
See how much farther this bush stretches.
Yes, Warner.
You and I'll keep on, Mr. Babson, but more slowly.
It seems to me it's been too slow up to now.
It hasn't been, Mr. Babson.
You leave the pace to me.
The day had begun much the same as other mornings on the safari.
They had left their base camp deep in the Kenya country before a cloudy dawn broke.
Babson, an American businessman, R. Cross, a professional hunter, and a semi-educated
native tracker whose unpronounceable Maasai name had been simplified to Charlie.
During the weeks behind them, there had been no vital call on courage.
The game had been fleet of hoof rather than dangerous, and many hides and trophy heads
had been gathered without undue incident.
But inevitably, a safari such as theirs enters a period when moments of peril will be met.
It is the hope of the professional hunter that by this time all the killings of harmless
animals will have prepared the amateur for the dangerous game, assured him of his own
power, tightened his reflexes so that he will operate correctly and calmly.
Oftentimes, it works that way.
R. Cross, Babson, and Charlie entered this hazardous phase when they started after Lion.
Wait.
Here comes Charlie.
Well?
He's not far from a beating on a zebra in a clearing.
He's an ancient one who carries a great black mane.
Good.
We've worked hard for him.
I hope he's worth it.
Shell in your chamber?
You think I'm that stupid, Mr. R. Cross?
I just wanted to be sure.
All right, all right.
Well, can't we go on?
The wind is shifting some, Charlie.
It will work with us long enough, I think.
You think that because you're a lazy beggar and you want to stay on the game trail instead
of fighting the bush.
No, Bonner.
The wind will help us long enough.
There, Bonner.
You've been hyena, a piece of his mind.
Why are we waiting?
Can't we go on?
We'll go on.
There you are.
There's your trophy, a black mane.
He's big.
He's a beauty.
Can he smell us?
With that noseful of zebra blood he's got.
The wind, Charlie.
It holds.
You won't be able to take him the way he is, low behind the zebra, Babson.
But he's bound to move before long.
Now, let's settle into a good position and relax.
Right.
Say, he's a monster.
Lord, look at him, Gorge.
He's got a few hundred lazy days behind him, a wife to kill his food and nothing more than
to eat and sleep and grow a fine mane so that he'll look good on somebody's wall.
Your wall, Mr. Babson.
I've got the place for him.
The sun came up today for him just like every other day.
But it's the last sun he'll see, thanks to you and Charlie and to me.
Bonner.
We've brought a lot of the last sunrises, haven't we, Mr. Babson?
Elan, Kudu, Congoni, Horix.
No more suns for them.
Don't you want me to kill him, Arcross?
No.
I'm tired of it.
Killing's bad unless it's for food or to save your own life.
Why, now, look.
The wife is coming.
She's pretty.
Yep, well, Babson, he'll move now.
Oh, he's a proper one now.
He doesn't want a woman meddling, even if it is her kill.
Watch it carefully, Mr. Babson.
He's starting to move.
Make your time.
He's only chasing the old lady off.
He'll come back for his meat.
But he's moving away.
He'll be back and give you a good shot as he comes.
No, Babson.
Not now, not now.
Why did you fire?
I hit him.
You didn't stop him.
I hit him well.
I know I did.
I might have done better if you hadn't been yelling at me.
Oh, you'd have done better if you'd listened to me.
You got shot him.
He can live for days or weeks.
He goes into the elephant grass over there.
Sure, it's the nearest place you can think of.
Mr. Babson, there's your trophy.
He's wounded and he's old up.
And he's the most dangerous animal in the world right now.
You want to go in after him?
No, no, I don't know enough about him.
You knew enough to fire when I told you not to.
Well, we've hunted over a week for a good head.
That's all I was thinking of when I saw him running away.
I wanted him.
Well, right now he wants you, Mr. Babson.
Stay here.
Charlie and I'll go in and try and get him.
Why don't you leave him?
He'll die.
I know I hit him well.
Not well enough.
It's against the game laws to leave a wounded animal.
And he'll charge any money he sees until he dies.
Charlie, run back to the truck.
Bring my flask, the big one, and the heavy rifle.
Courage is defined as that quality of mind which enables one to meet danger and difficulties
with firmness.
Well, the call for it had suddenly come and there was a lack of it.
None was really expected of Babson because his money had bought, along with other services
and knowledge, that commodity which was Arcross's courage.
But Arcross, for the first time in his career, didn't have the required amount for sale.
In an intangible way, he was cheating his customer.
The natives sensed this lack as he and the white man crossed the clearing.
After long and intimate association, he thought he knew the hunter.
But what he saw now made him, in his turn, uneasy.
They passed the torn remains of the zebra and continued on toward the inevitable charge
of the dying lion.
I've finally got so that I hate them, Charlie.
I've disliked them for a long time, but for almost a year I've hated them.
Which Bonner?
The trophy hunters, those and the lords and the movie stars.
The complainers about the sun and the rain and the flies.
Now the game isn't really as numerous as they've been led to believe by the movies taken from
airplanes.
Nobody's told them that an airplane flight and a truck safari aren't the same things.
Isn't that right, Charlie?
For me, Bonner, I hate the tall elephant grass.
The elephant grass belongs here.
It grows so that gutshot lions will have a place to hide.
This lion knew all along that one day our gut shooter would stop making ladies dresses
in Chicago and come and visit America.
Bonner.
It is the wife.
Does she tell him we come?
If she has a great lion's love for him, yes.
If she's shallow, she's scared of the jackal and the hyena so that she can eat.
You know as much about lions as anyone.
Why'd you ask me?
I thought you had a very deep understanding of these two.
I've been sarcastic about the gut shooter.
Have you found sign?
That way.
It went into the grass beyond the highest ant hill.
All right.
Maybe from the top of it we can see what we're getting into.
That's the nastiest stand of cover I've seen.
Grass is over eight feet high.
Yes, Bonner.
Can't see 15 paces into it.
It could take our friend only the time of our breath to cover that distance.
Let's look for a sign.
Bonner.
Blood.
Dark and thick from deep inside.
No artery cut though.
He's a slow bleeder, a ruddy slow bleeder.
Give me the flask, Charlie.
We could wait, Bonner.
Our friend will stiffen.
Our friend will rest and lick his wounds and maybe stop the bleeding.
And we'd have no blood stores for to follow him.
We'll keep on going.
He went in here.
No gain trail.
If it leads to water, we could find him there.
Unless he goes to the water and comes back to wait for us.
There's more blood up ahead.
Wind isn't for us now, Charlie.
It's coming in from every quarter.
You get our scent from any direction.
There's a smell of rain now too.
I don't catch it.
You sure?
It comes another hour, I think.
If you smell up a rain, the blood spore will be washed away.
You smell too much.
You smell the fear that's in me, haven't you?
For the first time?
What is there about this lion and his wife?
Nothing.
Except a new feeling that I have.
This is the last time out with a trophy hunter.
There are better things to do than this.
Why do I do it?
The trophy hunters pay you much money.
You're an insolent beggar.
Find some more for our signs.
It is there, ahead where he lied down.
There you see.
His head was here and looking this way.
Sure.
Down the back trail, waiting for us.
He was running when he got up.
You look here, the claw signs.
He's close enough that he caught our scent and got up and ran.
He's not stiffened.
And he's waiting again, up ahead.
There's nothing else to do.
To wait for us and to fight, or to wait for the slower death.
You have a wife and children, Charlie.
How are they?
Eat well, Warner.
The doctor has done much to stop the sickness.
When did you see them last?
Before this hunt.
You must want to get back to them as quickly as possible.
Yes, Warner.
I see more sign up ahead.
A wife again.
She's closer.
What direction?
Where is she?
The wind is against us now.
You don't know where she is?
No, Warner.
Give me the flask.
This does nothing to build bravery.
I have never seen you when you needed to ask for it.
I haven't either.
I've never been afraid until this time.
You've been to Nairobi, Charlie?
Yes, Warner.
Do you like it?
No.
There was too much noise.
I hate the city too.
But I found myself there.
More of a reason to live, I mean a woman.
Said she'd be my wife.
Something I've never had before.
A wife is good?
Not with this kind of business in the elephant grass.
When you think of a wife, you don't do well with the problem of a gutshot lion.
It is the ancient one.
Where is he waiting for us, Charlie?
He has many places to be.
Stupid, misnomerical logic.
Give me the big rifle.
I'll carry it now.
Yes, Warner.
Keep it dry, because the rain is coming.
You are listening to Game Hunt.
Tonight's presentation in radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Now a message from CBS Radio.
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And now we bring back to our Hollywood sound stage, Raymond Lawrence, starring in tonight's
production, Game Hunt, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
The rain started to fall approximately 45 minutes after our cross and the native entered
the stand of grass.
The Babson took refuge under a tree from where he could watch the jackal and the hyena worrying
the remains of the zebra and the increasing numbers of vultures patiently awaiting their
turn.
He fully admitted to himself now that he'd been wrong, shooting the lion the way he did.
He was filled with self-incrimination at having sent two men to search out a danger that he
had caused.
He imagined their bodies being torn by the jackal and the hyena with the vultures waiting
their turn.
The center of the stand of grass was now a place of dull gray light and darker shadows
and a place of sound.
The beat of the rain and the gusty wind made any attempt at silence unnecessary.
In a way this was good because talk was a tension release that our cross very much needed.
Do you still find sign in this muck Charlie?
Too much Bonner.
He stayed on the old trail and his wife has been to him.
Has been to him?
See here he's limping on the right leg in the back.
Look at the size of that fork.
He's bigger than I thought.
Here are hers going the other way again.
That puts her behind us now.
She's hunting us Charlie.
We'll move on ahead.
I'll watch the back trail.
Charge may come from there first.
Disclose Bonner.
Blood spores here again.
Here very close or the rain would have washed it away you see.
Very close Charlie.
Would be nice if we could see farther into this grass.
We'll rest here for a while.
You know why I wanted to stop don't you?
I've never seen this in you before.
My roby fear.
And I'm not ashamed to show it to you because you're my friend and you've seen me in better
times.
Flask please Charlie.
I'm going to quit this business.
You'll stop all hunting?
Except for table meat.
Get a city job.
A nice safe dull job in the city where you can go home every night after work.
I've been a good...
She's still behind us.
I've been a good hunter.
It's been said that I think like an animal when I'm on the stalk that I know what the
game is going to do before it's done.
I have seen this with you.
Not anymore.
Not after Nairobi.
It left me.
After the woman I thought only is a man.
I've been very bad with Mr. Babson.
I'm in very bad right now.
Female crossed the trail.
Did you see her?
Yes Bonner.
I'm going to put her out of the way.
She can't have her trading along behind.
Where is she Charlie?
It was close to here that she crossed.
Oh father ahead Bonner.
You see it?
This small grass broken.
I see it now.
Come on.
Babson!
If he'd fired it I hope he did better than the last time.
Farcross is that you?
Yes.
You all right?
I'm fine.
I got the female.
Bend some of the grass against the wind so that we can locate you.
I see it.
Here she is.
She never did see me.
She was lying with her back to me in the old game trail looking in your direction I guess.
Yeah waiting for us.
She was stalking each other.
When she got up to move to the side I had my sights on her shoulder as simple as that.
Isn't she a beauty.
Yes lovely.
It'll go well next to the males.
Where is he?
We've been only a few paces away from him but we haven't seen him yet.
Mr Babson I told you to stay out in the clearing.
Why'd you come in here?
Because I felt like a coward letting you two finish a job that I'd bunk.
I want you to go back.
You've done enough for us killing the female.
I'm going to stay with you.
It was my excitement and bad shooting that caused it all.
It's my responsibility more than yours.
I'm staying with you.
I'd call myself a coward every time I looked at my trophies if I didn't.
All right.
It's your privilege.
If any time you feel like turning back do it.
I won't turn back.
I'll be all right.
Bonner here is where we were close to him.
The blood is gone but his marks still show.
They stay on the trail.
Not for long I think.
Well let's find out how long.
Here we are.
He's off to the left.
His back leg is very bad now.
I see here Babson.
The signs of his dragging it.
Wouldn't mean anything to me without being told.
I feel good now Charlie.
No Nairobi.
What does that mean?
No Nairobi.
It's a vague term we sometimes use in our trade.
Sort of uneasiness.
Now this will go well if we all do our jobs carefully and calmly.
Do you still want to stay with us Babson?
You don't have to you know.
I shouldn't want to I suppose but I do.
I feel good.
I'm calm.
I said a lot of bad things about you Mr. Babson and I thought a lot worse.
I'm sorry.
Oh.
Now this is really quite simple.
We'll move in the line a few paces apart.
You on my left Charlie on my right.
When he decides to come he'll charge anything that moves so freeze when he starts.
Charlie and I'll draw his attention and swing his charge towards us.
Well this isn't a favor you Babson it's to give you a better target.
I'll have him broadside you mean.
Right.
And don't move your position and keep firing until your rifle is empty.
Reload and start firing again.
We'll be doing the same but he can carry a lot of steel.
Right.
A few paces this way for me.
That's good.
All right Charlie.
Take us to him.
Yes brother.
Charlie.
Ahead.
See the tops of the grass moving against the wind.
I see it.
It could mean he's down and he can't get up.
At any rate we know where he is.
All right Babson.
I'd like to see him.
You will.
Carefully now.
He'll be less than 20 paces away when we first see him.
Do you see him?
Not yet.
Don't fire.
We want him closer.
Lord.
Good Lord.
Hold.
Hold Babson.
You swing him this way.
I can't stay.
Freeze Babson.
Don't run.
Catch him.
I can't hold.
I can't.
Open up Charlie.
I'll find the gun.
Stop him right now.
Juana.
Wana?
Does he die?
Careful, Charlie.
He's dead, Wana.
He doesn't look it, Charlie.
You'd think he's ready to charge again, wouldn't you?
He's dead.
No, he isn't.
Not for Mr. Babson, he isn't.
Wana.
He's dead.
He isn't.
Wana.
Get the trophy hunter and bring him here.
Load his gun with expanding ammunition.
Bullets to finish the thing.
To smash it.
Yes, Wana. I understand.
Mark Cross, I...
I'm ashamed that I ran, but I...
I just couldn't help it.
There was nothing I could do.
Of course there wasn't.
Your first time and all?
Where is he?
From here. I'll show you.
Over there.
You can just see his head.
Oh, yes, I see him.
He'll be ready to charge again if we let him rest.
I thought you'd like the final shots.
I would.
Put your sights right under his ear.
And a bit to the front.
Check the safety.
Yes.
Go ahead.
I hit him.
Again. Don't take any chances.
One more.
That'll do it, I think.
Let's take a look at him.
Congratulations, Mr. Babson.
You've killed your lot.
But his head...
He's worthless as a trophy.
Yeah. Which ruined.
Isn't it a shame.
I'm afraid he'd have to be this way.
It's one of those things.
It was a gesture of contempt toward many trophy hunters.
The destruction of an already dead trophy.
Childish perhaps for a man of our cross's age and experience.
But it was important to him as the final act of his last hunt.
Something that would be told and retold when old hunters gathered in Nairobi.
A retribution that would be understood by the others.
A thing that should happen to all uncontrollable gut shooters.
The fear that was so important a part of the situation would never be mentioned.
Except perhaps sometime very late at night to his wife.
When there would be true understanding of it.
Suspense.
In which Raymond Lawrence starred in tonight's presentation of Game Hunt.
Be sure to listen again next week when we bring you another presentation of Radio's outstanding theatre of thrills.
Suspense.
Suspense is produced and directed in Hollywood by Anthony Ellis.
Tonight's story was written by Gil Dow.
The music was composed by Lucian Morrowak and conducted by Wilbur Hatch.
Featured in the cast were Stacey Harris, Joseph Kearns and Jack Crouchon.
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