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Updated: July 26, 2025
Ere five minutes were over the little party, greatly heartened up by finding this unexpected way out of their difficulties, started once more, Roy encouraging Tumbu, who, in truth, seemed to feel his task quite a light one, while Foster-father, in his relief and gratitude, allowed Down, the cat, to creep once more inside his fur coat.
It was a way he had when the luck went against him. So, just as he had remarked when he had fallen down the ravine, when the white cat and the black dog first came to him, that he had "tumbu-down," so now he simply said that it wasn't "very comfy," but that Tumbu had come to see him more than once.
And so they had, though it was a sore trial once more to the women to have nothing but guesswork to go upon. "I wish I knew," murmured poor Foster-mother mournfully, as she watched Baby Akbar, and Down, and the kitten, and Tumbu, all playing together before the fire. But once more Baby Akbar was silent, and Down told nobody unless it was Tumbu.
"Now then, Tumbu! Good dog!" said Roy in a flutter for fear of failure. Tumbu turned round, looked at his little master with a broad grin of red tongue and white teeth, gave a little grunt, and started. The sledge slid on over the frozen snow quite easily! "Now praise be to God!" cried Foster-father, overjoyed.
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