So down the same gangplank up which he had walked from the dock in New York, [Tamba ran, and soon he was on the Indian wharf.] There were boxes and barrels there, too, but Tamba did not stop to find a hiding place. He wanted to run off to the jungle as soon as he could.
The tiger was hungry, so he sniffed about until he found a place where the ship’s cook had thrown overboard, on the dock, some scraps of meat to some hungry dogs. The dogs had not eaten it all, and there was a little left for Tamba. Then, when he had found a drink of water at a fountain in a street near the dock, Tamba was ready to set off on his journey to find his former jungle home.
It was a warm, Indian night. There was no moon, and as there were not many lights near the dock, Tamba was not seen as he slunk off the ship and began to travel. He sniffed the warm, moist air, and it reminded him of his jungle home. He remembered it from the time when he had been a little, baby tiger.
[Tamba ran and soon he was on the Indian wharf.]
“Ah, that is good!” thought Tamba. “It was nice in the circus, and I had many good friends—Tum Tum, Dido, Chunky, the happy hippo, and Nero. And I met many good friends after I ran away—even Squinty was kind after he found I did not hurt him. But still I will like best to get back to my jungle.”
So Tamba traveled on through the dark night, getting farther and farther away from the city where the ship had docked. Strange as it may seem, Tamba had made the trip all the way across the ocean himself. It was a great thing for a tiger to do, I think.
Now he was in India, and that country has not so many large cities, nor were they as close together as in the United States, where Tamba had been in the circus. So, soon after leaving the dock, the tame tiger found himself out in the wild country. And it was not so far away to the jungle, though the jungle, where Tamba had formerly lived, was still many miles off.