“And so you are going to the jungle, are you?” asked Tinkle of Tamba, when they had talked a while longer.
“Yes, I want to get back to my old home,” answered the tiger. “I don’t like it in the circus. But, still, there was one thing I liked in it, and that was the good meals I had. I’m very hungry right now.”
“Oh, excuse me!” exclaimed Tinkle. “I should have thought of that before. I’m so sorry! Won’t you have some of my hay or oats?”
“Yes, and give him some of our bran,” added the cow who had told about the man coming in to milk.
“Oh, thank you, very much, Tinkle. And you too, my cow friend,” replied the tiger gratefully. “But I can’t eat hay, bran, or oats. We tigers must have meat. I don’t suppose you eat any of that?”
“No,” said Tinkle, “we don’t. It’s too bad! I don’t know how we can give you anything to eat. It’s no fun to be hungry, either.”
“I know how we can feed your tiger friend,” said one of the big farm horses.
“How?” eagerly asked Tinkle. He felt just as you would feel if some friend came to visit you and you couldn’t give him anything to eat. “How can I feed Tamba on the meat that he likes?” asked Tinkle.
“I’ll tell you,” went on the horse. “You know the big dog who drives the sheep to and from the meadow?”