Mcallen Daily Monitor

Down rivers across mountains, climbing almost perpendicular crags, the expedition marched in quest of adventure and riches. On the twenty fifth day, Tarzan, who headed the line of warriors, scrambled over the top of the last cliff
On the far side of the desolate valley beneath he saw a magnificent sight.

Lofty spires, turrets, minarets, and domes gleamed red and yellow in the sunlight. That night they camped before the towering city.
Often Tarzan felt the sensation of unseen eyes upon him. Yet all was strangely silent. Once at midnight they were awakened by a shrill beyond the walls, high at first, then ending in a series of dismal moans.

It almost paralyzed the blacks with terror!
They wanted to abandon the venture. But, encouraged by the morning's light, they marched along the forbidding wall, finding a narrow opening. A flight of stairs, worn hollow by centuries of use, rose before them. Into this Tarzan made his way, turning his giant shoulders sideways. Behind him trailed his warriors.

Winding and twisting in a serpentine fashion, the path ended at last before a great temple.
As Tarzan and his companions gazed in wonderment, they became aware of dim shadowy figures moving in the semi-darkness. Nothing tangible-only an uncanny suggestion of life.
Yet life seemed out of place in this weird, dead city of the long-dead past.