“So our tame tiger wants to go back to his jungle, does he?” asked Tum Tum of Nero, when they saw that the striped animal had quieted down.
“Yes, I guess he is getting homesick,” said Nero in a low voice, so Tamba would not hear him. “But his jungle is far, far away.”
“Did Tamba live in the same jungle with you, Nero?” asked one of the monkeys who were jumping about in their cage.
“Oh, no,” answered the big lion. “I came from Africa, and there are no tigers there. Tamba came from India. I’ve never been there, but I think the Indian jungle is almost as far away as mine is in Africa. Tamba will never get there. He had much better stay in the circus and be as happy as he can.”
But Tamba did not think so, and, as he curled up in his cage, he looked at the iron bars and wondered if they would ever break so he could get out and run away.
“For that’s what I’m going to do if ever I get the chance!” thought Tamba. “I’m going to run back to my jungle!”
As he licked his sore paw, Tamba thought of his happy home in the Indian jungle. He had lived in a big stone cave, well hidden by trees, bushes and tangled vines. In the same cave were his father and mother and his brother and sister tigers. Tamba had been caught in a trap when a small tiger, and brought away from India in a ship. Then he had been put in a circus, where he had lived ever since.
Just before the time for the evening show some of the animal men, or trainers, came into the tent where the cages of Tamba, Nero and the other jungle beasts were standing.
“Something is the matter with Tamba,” said one of the keepers.
“What do you mean?” asked the man who took care of Nero. “Did Tamba try to bite you or scratch you?”