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Updated: July 26, 2025
But little Prince Akbar, half awake, protested in defence of his dear dog. "Tumbu only barks when he wants something, nurse; go and see what it is." "A likely story!" cried Head-nurse. "Well," interposed Foster-father philosophically, "some one must go if any one is to sleep."
"I want Tumbu," he would say, "I want to run a race with him. I want to be out of doors." And so while the city was alive with armed men, when there were assaults and repulses and sorties and forlorn hopes going on day after day, Roy would tell Mirak that some day something would happen. Some day the door would open and And one day the door did open.
But the little Prince himself was delighted. He plumped down on the hot sand beside the dog and hugged it, calling it "Dear Tumbu," and when the white cat jealously rubbed her back against his little fat person he hugged her too and called her "Darling Down." "Hark to the Lord-of-the-Universe giving his creatures names!" said Foster-mother piously.
Then she sat and listened while Head-nurse told the tale of what had happened, and her faded, gay, old face flashed and sparkled and grew grave by turns. "But where is Tumbu?" she interrupted, "and where is Down? Bring them hither, slaves! Lo! I love all animals, as my dear brother did!"
What he did was to set the door wide, cut a narrow tunnel with his sword as far as he could reach in the banked-up snow, and thrust a bit of food in its farther end. Then Roy brought Tumbu and said: "Fetch it out, good dog! fetch it out!" while Mirak and Bija looked on delightedly, calling, "Good dog! Dig it out! dig it out!"
So far there was little fear of the sledge being overset. Then, after he had run a long way, he paused, for there were now two tracks instead of one. The marks of the bear went up a little side valley, the marks of the sledge went down the slope. What could have happened? Had Tumbu in his haste missed the bear's trail? That was not likely. Having come so far, had he determined to go on?
The little lad's weight was too much for even four feet; there was a struggle, over went the little Prince, and both he and Tumbu had to be picked up and set on their legs again on a fresh, unbroken place. Foster-father looked in despair at Old Faithful, and for a minute no one said anything. Then the old man's face lit up. "Lo! I had forgotten it utterly, but the time and place bring memory back.
And out of this arose the only sadness of the happy May days when the little party once more journeyed out to Babar's tomb towards evening to sit under the arghawân trees and watch the sunset. Of course Dearest-Lady was not there, but all the others were assembled, and Down, the cat, purred as loud as ever, while Tumbu, the dog, frolicked round even more like a golliwog than before.
"Poor, poor!" he said, shaking his quaintly crowned head, "tumbu down. Nanna kiss it, make it well." Prince Askurry sat stupidly staring for a moment or two. Then the memory of many a childish hurt cured by like gracious offer from his father came back to him, making his heart soft. He sprang to his feet and waved by his councillors to cruelty. "Go, my lords!" he cried fiercely.
Then the next day, mayhap, they would all go a-hawking, and at each and all of these diversions Humâyon's little son was part of his father's enjoyment, and so naturally, became more and more of a man every day. He used to ride on Horse-chestnut, and Tumbu was always of the party, getting in consequence rather too fat, by reason of the rich food which was given him.
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