“It’s all my fault,” returned Tamba. “I shouldn’t have said anything about biting you. Being splashed with whitewash serves me right. But I am very hungry, and your sour milk smelled very good!”
“I’m afraid there isn’t much left now,” said Squinty. “The pigs were very hungry to-night. But if you’ll come over to the side of the pen, where I broke out to rush at you, I’ll see if there is anything else. Sometimes they throw kitchen table scraps into our trough, and there are bits of meat which we small pigs don’t eat. You may have that, if there is any. Tigers like meat, I’ve heard.”
“Yes,” said Tamba, “I like meat very much. It is about all I can eat, though I could manage to drink some milk—sour or sweet.”
“Come, we’ll go see what there is,” went on Squinty. “When I said we had nothing for tigers I didn’t think about the meat scraps.”
So Squinty led Tamba back to the side of the pen whence the little pig had pushed his way out. Then Squinty explained to the other pigs what had happened.
“Yes, here are some meat scraps,” said one of the pigs, when Squinty had told how hungry Tamba was. “It isn’t very much, though.”
“Even a little will keep me from starving,” said Tamba. “When I get to my jungle I’ll have all I want to eat, but just now it is pretty hard to find enough. In the circus I had plenty.”
“Oh, so you’re from the circus, are you?” asked Squinty. “I used to know some animals in a circus. There was Mappo, the merry monkey.”
“Yes, I have heard of him, too,” said Tamba. “But he isn’t with the show now. Ah, but this meat tastes good!”