And when the man came back, after having had his lunch, to take the oat-bags from the heads of his horses, he was in such a hurry to get his wagon unloaded, was this man, that he never noticed where Tamba had chewed the meat.
And it was not until some days later, when the butcher on the ship was cutting up the meat, that it was noticed that some of the pieces were chewed as if by some animal.
“I guess the dock rats did it,” said the ship butcher. And he never knew it was Tamba, any more than the grocer knew it was a tiger that had tipped over his can of milk.
After his good meal Tamba had a fine sleep, and it was quite dark when he awoke again. He peered out from between the boxes, barrels and bales, and he saw that there were no men, horses or drays at the dock. It was deserted and quiet. But, over at one side, Tamba could still see the ships, or “floating houses,” as he called them.
“Now if I can get on one of those ships I’ll soon be back at my jungle,” thought Tamba to himself. “But I wonder which one to go on?”
Carefully and quietly he slunk out of his hiding place. He walked along until he came to where a sort of bridge, which is called a gangplank, led up to the deck of the ship. Here Tamba smelled a smell that he very well knew. It was a tiger smell—the smell of a wild beast.
“Ha! If there have been wild jungle animals here, this is the very ship I want to go on,” thought Tamba. “This must have come from jungle-land. At no other place can I smell the wild animal smell. This is the ship for me! I’ll get on, hide away, and have a nice ride back to my jungle.”
So, seeing no one about, Tamba walked softly up the plank, and stepped softly to the deck of the big ship. And he managed to crawl down into a hole without any one seeing him. Down in a hole, among some boxes and barrels, just like those on the dock, Tamba hid himself.
“Now for my jungle!” he said to himself as he curled up.