“I’m afraid I’m going to have trouble with that shoulder before it gets better,” thought the mighty buffalo, just before, at last, he finally dropped off into a sleep.
When Shaggo awoke he found a great deal of excitement going on around the circus train, which had come to a stop. There was the rumble of heavy wagons and the tramping of horses, mingled with the shouting and calling of men.
“What’s the matter?” asked Shaggo of Tamba.
“Oh,” answered the tiger, giving a yawn, “we have reached the first city in which the circus is to give a performance. Now we shall be put in a tent, and people will come to see us.”
“What’s a tent?” asked Shaggo, who had never seen one.
“It’s a sort of a white, cloth house,” the tiger answered. “You’ll like it. This sort of life is much more fun than being cooped up in the winter barns.”
Pretty soon the cages of Tamba and Shaggo and the rest were taken from the railroad car and drawn to the circus grounds.
A large crowd of boys and a number of men came to the place where the train stopped to see the circus unload, and, later, they watched the big tent being put up. Of this Shaggo saw very little, for his cage remained covered. At last, however, his wagon, and that of the other animals, was wheeled inside the big, white cloth house, and Shaggo found himself in a sort of ring of which many other cages formed a part.
“Now the circus will soon start, after we have been in the parade,” said Tamba.
“What’s a parade?” asked Shaggo.