The sun was shining into Shaggo’s cage when he awakened. At first the mighty buffalo did not remember all that had happened. He recalled a queer smell, which came just after he was tied with the ropes. And he remembered going to sleep. Now he was awake.

“But I feel so weak—as if I could not stand up,” said Shaggo to himself. “It’s like the time I ate some poison weed in the big Park, and was sick until I ate another kind of weed that Wuffo showed me, and then I grew better. But I am weak in my legs now, as I was then. I wonder if I can stand up?”

Shaggo tried, but he found that the ropes were still around his legs, so, after one or two trials, he gave up and remained lying on his side in his cage.

“I guess it isn’t time for me to get up yet,” thought the buffalo. “Maybe, as Dido said, the men are trying to do me good, though tying my legs with ropes is a queer way. But I guess—I guess—I—”

But Shaggo could say no more. His head fell over to one side and he went to sleep again.

The next time he awakened he felt much better and stronger. There was a queer feeling in his shoulder, too. It pained him some, but not as much as at first, and, when he managed to get a look at it, he saw that the lump was gone.

“Hurray!” cried Shaggo, in buffalo talk, of course. “That big lump melted away while I slept! I wonder how it happened? Anyhow, I’m glad. Now if those ropes were only off my legs—”

He kicked out a little with his hind feet. To his surprise his legs were no longer tied. His front ones were also free. There was still a queer smell in his nose, and on his shoulder was a white rag. Shaggo tried to reach around and pull it off with his teeth, but could not.

Then he noticed on the floor of his cage, in front of him, a pail of something that smelled very good. It was a mixture of hay, oats, wheat and bran, stirred up in warm water and a little salt, and Shaggo felt so hungry that he ate it all up.

“My, but that was good!” said the buffalo to himself. “I believe I can stand up now. I feel much stronger.”

Shaggo managed to scramble to his feet. He was not as strong as he had thought, for he swayed from side to side as a baby does when it is learning to walk. But, after a while, when he had eaten a little hay and taken some water, Shaggo began to feel his strength coming back to him.

He took a few steps, but was soon glad enough to lie down again.

“I guess I’m cured of the rheumatism, or indigestion, or whatever was the matter with me,” thought the mighty buffalo, “but I must go easy. I can’t trot around my cage yet. I must wait until I am a little stronger.”

Shaggo went to sleep again, and he must have slept all day and all night, for when he awakened once more the sun was again shining in his cage. He felt much stronger now, and when he walked about, his shoulder, though a little stiff, did not pain nearly so much.

“Hello there, Shaggo!” called Dido, the dancing bear, from his cage. “How are you feeling?”

“Well, a little queer and shaky,” answered the buffalo; “but I’m getting better. Say, what happened to me, anyhow?”

“I think you had what they called an operation,” answered the bear. “I don’t know much about such things, but they put you to sleep with medicine, and when you were in dreamland they took that extra hump off your shoulder.”

“I’m glad they did,” said Shaggo. “I feel ever so much better without it. I begin to feel more like myself—more like when I was the strongest buffalo on the range in the National Park.”

“I’m pleased to hear that,” said Dido. “Maybe, now, they will teach you to do tricks.”

“Maybe,” agreed Shaggo.

The doctor with the big beard and the shiny glasses came with the zoo keepers to look at Shaggo in his cage.

“Ah, my operation was a success,” said the big doctor. “Now that buffalo will be as good as new.”

And as the days went on and Shaggo became stronger and stronger and his shoulder healed he did, indeed, become “as good as new.”

Once more his eyes shone brightly and he held his head up. He no longer limped about the cage, but walked as well as any of the lions, tigers or bears in the zoo.

Each day a keeper came to feed Shaggo, and, after a while, the man put his hand in through the bars and rubbed Shaggo’s head. And Shaggo felt so grateful to the men for curing his sore shoulder that the big buffalo did not try to bite or kick or butt with his horns. He licked the man’s hand with his tongue.

“Well, I guess you are getting tame, Shaggo,” said the keeper. “It was a good thing we bought you from the circus, and it was a good thing the doctor made you well. In a little while I will let you out in the yard to run around. It is not good for a big animal like you to be shut in a cage all the while.”

And you can imagine how glad Shaggo was when, one day, his cage was opened and he was allowed to come out. Of course he was not permitted to roam wherever he pleased, but there was a big yard in the zoo where he could walk about and even run. And when he ran and found that his shoulder did not hurt him, Shaggo felt like bellowing at the top of his voice, he was so glad.

“Now I am myself again!” cried Shaggo.

And Shaggo did enjoy himself in the big yard of the zoological park. Some camels and zebus, as well as other animals of the kind that eat grass and hay, were also allowed to roam in this yard, and many people came to watch them. Shaggo was much admired, especially his big head and the mighty hump on his back—this was the real hump that belonged there. The other hump—the sore one—had been taken off and Shaggo limped no more.

One day some deer were put in the yard with Shaggo and the camels. The deer had horns, and when Shaggo saw them he thought of the time he had driven the herd of antelopes away from the water hole.

“But we will not quarrel about who is to drink first here,” said one of the deer. “There is water in the tank, enough for all of us.”

“No,” said Shaggo, “here we are a happy family, and we will not quarrel.”

In time Shaggo grew to be very good friends with all the other animals of the zoo, but, best of all, he liked the deer, for they had come from the far West, the land of the prairies where he used to live, and they could talk to him about that country.

One day White Tail, the largest of the deer in the zoo, was eating grass near a wooden fence, and, in some manner, White Tail’s horns became caught in a crack of the boards. At first the deer thought he could pull himself loose, but the more he pulled and twisted the tighter his horn seemed to be caught.

“Help! Help!” finally White Tail called to his animal friends. “I am caught in the fence and can not get loose!”

Some of the other deer tried to pry him loose with their horns, but they could not.

“Oh, if only Bundo, the big elephant were here, he could get me loose!” cried White Tail. “With his strong head he could break the board that is holding me fast.”

But Bundo was in another part of the zoo then, and no keepers were near, or one of them would have helped the deer. Then Shaggo saw what the matter was.

“Ho there!” cried the mighty buffalo. “Stand aside, everybody, and I’ll get White Tail loose!”

“How can you?” asked Dido, the dancing bear.

“With my big, hard head I can ram that fence and break the board as easily as anything,” the mighty buffalo answered. “I am not afraid of hurting my shoulder now. Stand still, White Tail, and I’ll get you loose.”

White Tail, the deer, stood still, his head held down where his horn was caught in a crack in the fence. Shaggo backed off a little way, and then, with his head lowered, he ran across the yard. Taking care not to bump into White Tail, Shaggo hit the fence with all his might.

There was a crash, a splintering of wood, and the deer was set free. He shook his head, and said:

“Thank you, Shaggo! You are, indeed, a mighty buffalo.”

“Oh, that was nothing,” said Shaggo. “I could have broken a much thicker board than that, now my shoulder is well.”

The keepers came running up at the sound of the crash, and when they saw what Shaggo had done to help the deer they were very glad. The fence was mended, and fixed so no more animals would be caught in it.

“It is a good thing to have a big head,” said Dido to Shaggo, when they went to sleep in their cages that night.

And so, for many years Shaggo, the mighty buffalo, lived in the zoo, and hundreds of boys and girls came to look at him and admire him. Sometimes he wished he might go back to the prairies, and see his old friends, and watch Rumpo and Bumpo knock each other in somersaults.

“But it is very nice, here in the zoo,” said Shaggo. “And, who knows? perhaps some day I may join the circus again and travel out West. Then I would have some wonderful adventures to tell the rest of the buffaloes.”

But the last I heard of him, Shaggo was still in the zoological park, and I hope he lives there and is happy for many long years.

THE END