“I haven’t time to make it too long,” said Tamba, “for I must be on my way. I want to get back to my jungle. At first I thought the long grass near the railroad was the place I wanted. But I see it is not the jungle where I used to live. So I must travel on a long way, and the sooner I start the quicker I’ll be there. But I’ll tell you how I got loose from the circus.”
So Tamba told Tinkle the story I have told you—how the circus was wrecked in the railroad accident, and how the cage burst open, letting the tame tiger loose.
“And now I’m here,” finished Tamba. “But tell me, Tinkle, how did you come to leave the circus?”
“Well, I had many adventures,” said the trick pony. “I used to live on a stockfarm, something like this, only there were more horses on it. I was taken away to live with a nice boy, who taught me many tricks, and then a bad man, with a big moving wagon, came along one day and stole me away. He sold me to the circus, and it was there I saw you, Tamba. I know Tum Tum, too, and Dido, the dancing bear!”
“Yes, they are all friends of mine,” said Tamba. “At least they were before I left. Now, I suppose, I’ll never see them again, for I am going to the jungle. But you haven’t yet told me, Tinkle, how you came to leave the circus.”
“Oh, it’s all written down in a book,” answered the trick pony.
“Oh, a book!” exclaimed Tamba. “I’ve heard Tum Tum and Dido speak of being in books, but I didn’t know what they meant. And I haven’t time to learn now, so suppose you tell me.”
“Well, there’s a book all about me and my adventures,” said Tinkle, the trick pony. “But, as long as you can’t read it, I’ll just tell you that, one day, when I was in the circus doing my tricks, George, the boy who used to own me before I was stolen away, came to the show. There he and his sister saw me and they knew me again, and I was taken out of the circus and given back to my little master. I’ve lived with him ever since. We often come to this farm in the summer, and I have just been giving him and his sister and some of the other children a ride in the pony cart. George is very nice to me, and gives me lumps of sugar.”
“I hope he isn’t the boy whom I scared in the hay,” said Tamba. “I would not want to scare any friend of yours, Tinkle.”
“Oh, well, if you only scared him, and didn’t scratch him, I guess it will be all right,” said the trick pony. “But I don’t believe it was George you frightened, as he was out driving me. It must have been Tom, or one of the other boys.” And so it was, as Tinkle learned later.