“Excuse me for thinking you were a wolf,” said Shaggo to Don. “But you look just like some of the prairie wolves I used to see out West on the big fields near our range.”

“That’s all right,” barked Don. He and Shaggo could visit, for there were only a few keepers in the animal tent now. All the audience had gone into the main tent to see the show, and Don and Shaggo could talk animal talk as much as they pleased.

“I don’t mind being taken for a wolf,” went on Don. “In fact we dogs once were wolves, and it was only after we became tame and lived around the house that we were called dogs.”

“The only dogs I ever saw before,” said Shaggo, “were little prairie dogs.”

“Hum! I never saw any of those that I remember,” Don said.

“Do you belong in this circus?” asked Shaggo.

“No,” barked Don in answer. “I live here in town. But I happened to be down near the railroad when the circus train came in, and I just slipped over here to see some of my friends. I know Tum Tum, Nero and Tamba.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Shaggo, “for they are friends of mine.”

“Is Dido here?” asked Don.

“Who is Dido? Is he a monkey? I guess you mean Mappo, don’t you?” inquired the buffalo.

“No, I mean Dido. He is a dancing bear, and he was with a circus at one time. I have lost track of him lately, and I thought maybe he might be here. I’ll take a look around.”

“And then come back and talk to me,” begged Shaggo. “Nero and Tamba are in the big tent doing their tricks, and so is Tum Tum, so I’m lonesome.”

“I’ll be back,” promised Don.

He trotted away, making the rounds of the other cages. Shaggo could hear him talking to some of the animals who remained, and, pretty soon, Don came back again.

“I didn’t find Dido,” he said. “I guess he isn’t with this circus. What’s the matter?” he asked, as he saw Shaggo limping around the cage. “Did that bad man hurt you?”

“Well, yes, he did hurt me when he poked me with his stick,” answered the buffalo, “but that isn’t why I limp. Something is the matter with my shoulder, it has a big lump on it. See?” And he came close to the front bars of the cage.

Don, with his head on one side, looked at the buffalo’s second hump.

“I know what’s the matter with you,” barked Don.

“What?” asked the buffalo.

“You have rheumatism,” answered Don. “I know what that is. I had it myself once, when I slept out in the rain a couple of nights after I was so foolish as to run away. Yes, that’s what you have—rheumatism.”

“Hum! I wonder if I have?” said Shaggo, slowly. “I thought I got this for running away. I know the hurt began after I jumped over the fence.”

“Maybe that started it, the same as it started with me when I got wet,” returned the dog. “But what you have is rheumatism, you may depend on it.”

“Perhaps I have,” agreed Shaggo. “I wonder what I had better do about it?”

“Oh, I guess they’ll get a doctor for you,” went on Don. “The circus men are good to their animals. But I’ll have to be trotting along, or they’ll think I have run away again, and once is enough for me. Good-bye!”

“Good-bye!” answered Shaggo, and he felt rather lonesome when Don had left. However, Tamba, Nero, and Tum Tum soon came back to the animal tent, after they had finished their tricks in the other big, white cloth “house,” so Shaggo had some one to talk to.

There were many busy days after this for the circus with which the mighty buffalo traveled. Each day the tent was set up in a new place, and crowds of boys and girls, as well as men and women, came to see the animals and watch the men and women actors in the performing tent.

“But I am not sure whether or not I am glad I ran away,” thought the mighty buffalo from time to time, as he traveled about with the circus. “In one way I’m having a good time, and in another way I am not. If my shoulder would get well I think I could be happy here. But it is no fun to be in pain all the while.”

One day, when he had become quite tame, and had made friends with several of the circus men, Shaggo was taken out of his cage and led around the animal tent by a rope.

“What’s going to happen, Shaggo?” asked Tamba, the tame tiger. “Are they going to teach you tricks?”

“I don’t know,” answered the buffalo, as he limped around. And when they saw this limp the circus men shook their heads.

“He will never do for us,” one said. “We do not want a limping buffalo in the circus. He could never learn any tricks, and people do not care to pay money to see a lame animal.”

“But what can we do with him?” asked another man.

“We can sell him to some zoological park,” was the answer. “There is a city, not far from here, that is starting a new zoo. They have not very many animals as yet, and they will be glad to buy this buffalo from us, even if he does limp. People do not have to pay money to come to a zoological park, and they are not so fussy about what they see. We’ll sell Shaggo to the zoo. That will be the best place for him. He will not have to travel around so much and his shoulder may get better.”

Of course Shaggo did not understand this talk, any more than the circus men understood the talk of the animals. But after a few days, when Shaggo had traveled on a little farther with the circus, a change came.

One afternoon several men came into the animal tent after the show was over. They stood in front of the buffalo’s cage.

“This is Shaggo,” said one of the circus owners. “He is a good buffalo, and the only thing the matter with him is that one of his shoulders is swelled, and he limps. But for a zoo he will be all right.”

“Yes, I think he will,” said one of the visitors. “We’ll buy him.”

Later, somewhat to his surprise, Shaggo’s cage was wheeled out of the tent, Tum Tum the elephant pushing it.

“What is going on?” asked the buffalo, for he had not understood the men’s talk. “Is the circus going to move now, Tum Tum, before we have given the night show?”

“No, I think not,” answered the jolly elephant. “All I know is that my keeper told me to wheel out your cage. But I am not to wheel out any of the others. Maybe they are taking you away, Shaggo, to cure the rheumatism in your shoulder.”

“Maybe,” agreed Shaggo, and he hoped this would prove true.

Horses were hitched to his cage, and it was drawn through the darkness to a place Shaggo had never been in before. He could not see where it was, and he did not much care, as the ride made his sore shoulder ache. He crouched down on some straw in the corner of his cage and went to sleep.

It was morning when Shaggo awakened. The sun was shining and the big buffalo looked about him in some surprise. At first he thought he was back in the circus winter barn, for he saw that there was a wooden roof over his head, and not the white cloth of the canvas tent. But, as he looked about him and saw some strange animals, he knew he was in a new place, and not in the circus any more.

As he arose slowly to his feet, trying not to groan because of the pain in his shoulder, he heard a voice saying:

“I say, big fellow, if you don’t want that piece of carrot in your cage, will you please kick it out to me?”

Shaggo looked up and saw, not far away, another cage, in which was a black, shaggy animal, with long hair and very long claws.

“Yes, you may have this piece of carrot,” said Shaggo, and he kicked it to the edge of his cage. “I don’t believe you can reach it, though.”

“Oh, yes I can,” growled the other animal in a jolly voice. And he stretched out a hairy paw, with long claws, and pulled the carrot into his cage.

“Who are you?” asked Shaggo.

“I am Dido,” was the answer.

“Oh, I’ve heard about you!” exclaimed the buffalo. “You are the dancing bear!”