were having their own troubles. Burma, one of the largest of the
tigers, had got loose, having taken advantage of the open door of his
cage. He rushed out with a snarl of delight at his freedom. His jungle
cry was echoed by the roar of a lion in the next cage, and this was
followed by the cries and snarls of all the wild jungle beasts in the
tent.

Fortunately the animal tent was deserted by all save the keepers, the
audience having filed into the tent where the main show was going on.

"Head him off now! Head him off!" cried Tom Layton, the elephant man, as
he saw the tiger dart out of its cage--a flash of yellow and black.
"Head him off! Don't let him get in the main top!"

"That's right! Head him off!" cried Señor Bogardi, the lion tamer. "He
won't hurt any one--he's too scared!"

This was true, but it was difficult to believe, and some of the people
seated in the "main top," or big tent, who were nearest the animal tent,
hearing the cries and learning what had occurred, spread the alarm.

Burma, the tiger, slunk around in behind the cages of the other animals.
All about him were men with clubs and pointed goads, with whips and
pistols. The circus men had had to cope with situations like this
before. They surrounded the tiger, advancing on him in an ever-narrowing
circle, and in a short time they drove him into an emergency cage which
was pushed forward with the open door toward him. Burma had no choice
but to enter, to get away from the cracking whips and the prodding
goads. And, after all, he was glad to be barred in again.