But, as it happened, by the time the farmer had called some neighbors in to help him and they had gotten their guns, Tamba had left the upper part of the barn, where the hay was, and had gone downstairs among the horses and cows. And as the farmer and his friends did not know this, and as none of the horses or cows called out to tell the men, they didn’t know where Tamba was.
They looked in the hay, where the boy had seen him, but Tamba was gone. The men even found the place where Tamba had eaten the eggs, but the jungle circus beast was not in sight. He was well hidden downstairs in the straw near the stall of the kind horse.
So the men hunted in vain, and some of them thought the tiger had gone back to the circus, while others thought he had run off to the woods, perhaps. At any rate, they did not find him in the barn, though he was there all the while they were searching. A wild animal sometimes knows better how to hide than you boys and girls do when you are playing games.
And now I must tell you something that happened to Tamba, as he still hid in the lower part of the barn. He was snugly curled up in the straw when suddenly there was a patter of little hoofs on the floor, and a small pony trotted into his small stall, which was near that of the big horse, next to which Tamba was hiding.
“Well, friends, here I am back!” cried the little pony. “I have been giving the boys and girls a ride, and now I’ve come back to have something to eat. Has anything happened while I was out, hitched to the basket cart, giving rides to the boys and girls? Has anything happened?”
“Yes,” answered the old horse, near whose stall Tamba was hiding in the straw, “something strange has happened. A big striped animal, who calls himself a tiger, came into our barn.”
“A tiger!” cried the little pony. “Why, I’d like to see him. I know something about tigers.”
“Oh, do you?” asked Tamba himself, sticking his head out of the straw, as he had stuck it out of the hay at Tom. But the pony was not frightened. “So you know something about tigers, do you?” went on Tamba. “Well, what is your name, if I may ask? Mine is Tamba.”
“Oh, ho! I know that very well!” neighed the pony. “You don’t know me, Tamba, but I have often seen you in the circus. I am Tinkle, the trick pony. I was in the circus a short time myself, but there were so many of us little Shetland ponies that I don’t suppose you remember me. But there were only a few tigers in the show, and I remember you very well. Didn’t you used to jump through a paper hoop as one of your tricks?”
“Yes,” answered Tamba, “I did. And, now that you speak of it, I believe I remember you. You used to pull, around the ring, a little cart with a funny clown in it, didn’t you?”