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Mappo, the Merry Monkey

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<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> MAPPO IN A BOX Poor Mappo was not a merry monkey just then. Usually he was a jolly little fellow, laughing and chattering in his own way, and playing tricks on his brothers and sisters. Now he felt very little like doing anything of that sort. "And to think that I was going to play a trick with the empty cocoanut shell, just a little while before this happened to me," thought Mappo, as he tried very hard to get loose from the net in which he was all tangled up. "I wonder what has happened to me, anyhow," said Mappo to himself. And, as Mappo did not find out for some little time I will tell you. He had been caught by a native hunter, in a net made from long pieces of a trailing vine, which was as strong as a rope. In the country where Mappo lived there were many people called natives—that is they had never lived in any country but their own, and they were a queer sort of people. They wore very few clothes, for it was too hot to need many. They were a black, savage people, and they lived by hunting with their spears, and bows and arrows. They hunted wild animals—lions, tigers, elephants and monkeys. Some of the wild animals they used for food, and others they sold to white men who wanted them for circuses and menageries. And monkeys were generally the easiest to catch. Some of these black, half-clothed, savage natives had spread a vine net in the forest. The net, being made of vines, could not be seen until some animal got close to it. And to make monkeys come close to the net, so it would fall down over them, when one end was pulled loose by a native (hidden behind a tree) bits of cocoanut were sprinkled about. Monkeys are very fond of cocoanut, and the natives knew, when the little long-tailed creatures went to pick up the white pieces, that they would come nearer and nearer to the trap-net, until they were caught. That was what had happened to Mappo. The little monkey tried and tried again to break out of the net, but he could not. It was too strong. Tighter and tighter it was pulled about him, until he could struggle no more. He lay there, a sad little lump of monkey in the net. Then some black men, with long sharp sticks, or spears, gathered about him, and talked very fast and loud. You would not have understood what they said, if you had heard them, any more than you can understand dog and cat talk, but Mappo knew some of what they were saying, for he had lived in the jungle all his life, and these were natives, or jungle men. "Ha! We caught only one monkey!" exclaimed one tall, black man, with a long spear. "Well, but he is a good one," another man said. "We will take him to the coast in a box, and sell him to the white men who will take him away in a ship. We will get many things for him, lots of beads to put around our necks, some brass wire to make rings for our noses and ankles, and red cloth to wear." The natives, you see, did not want money. They wanted beads and bits of shiny brass wire, or gay-colored cloth, to make themselves look, as they thought, very fine. They even put rings in their noses, as well as in their ears, to decorate themselves. "Ha! So this is not the end of me!" thought Mappo, when he heard the black men thus talking. "I am to be put in a box, and taken to a ship, it seems. I wonder what a ship is like. Well, as long as I am not to be hurt, perhaps it will be fun after all. But I wish they would let my mamma and papa, and sisters and brothers come with me. It is no fun being all by yourself." But of course Mappo's folks were, by this time, a long way off in the jungle woods, wondering where Mappo himself was. If they had seen him in the net, they might have tried to get him out, but they did not see him. The net was now pulled so tightly about the little monkey, that he was in some pain. "Bring up the box, and we'll put him in it," said one of the black men. Another native came up with a box made of tree branches nailed together. It was what is called a crate—that is, there were spaces between the slats so Mappo could look out and get air. "Look out. He may bite you!" called one native to another, as the crate was placed near the net. "Oh, I won't give him a chance!" the other native said. "Ha! I won't bite!" chattered Mappo, but the natives did not understand him. They knew very little of monkey talk. Mappo made up his mind that he would be good, for his mamma had often told him that was the best way to get along in this world. "But I'm sure she never thought I would be caught in a net," said Mappo to himself. "I wonder if she would mean me to be good now; and not bite. I guess she would, so I won't nip anybody." Mappo had very sharp teeth, even if he was a monkey, and he could give some good hard bites. But now he was going to be good. The net, with poor Mappo in it, was dragged up close to the crate, and a door in the crate was opened. Then part of the net was pulled to one side, and Mappo saw a hole where he thought he might slip out. He gave a jump, hoping he could get back into the tall trees again. "And if I do, I'll never eat any more cocoanut, unless my mamma or papa gives it to me!" thought Mappo. So he gave a jump out of the net, but, in a second he found himself inside the wooden crate, or box. He had gone into it when the net was open opposite the door of the crate. In another second the door was shut and fastened, and Mappo was a prisoner in a new prison. He could not get out, no matter how hard he tried. "There he is, safe and sound!" chattered the natives, in their queer language, which was as much like monkey talk as anything else. "Now we can carry him to the coast, and sell him to the white men. Come on." "I wonder where the coast is," thought Mappo, and I might tell you, in case you don't know, that the coast is the seashore.  <center> <ANTIMG border=0 src="images/003.jpg" height-obs="505" width-obs="300" alt="So he gave a jump out of the net, but, in a second, found himself inside the wooden crate or box. (Page 47)"> </center> So he gave a jump out of the net, but, in a second, found himself inside the wooden crate or box. (Page 47) The ships, in which white men come to the jungle countries, go only as far as the seashore. They cannot go on the land, or into the interior, where the wild animals live. So when the natives catch monkeys, or other creatures, they have to carry them to the coast. "Well, this isn't very nice," thought Mappo, as he looked at the little crate, inside of which he now found himself. "I haven't much room to move around here, and I don't see anything to eat, or drink." He was not very hungry, for he had eaten a lot of the cocoanut just before being caught in the net. But he was thirsty. However, he saw no water, and, though he chattered, and asked for it as nicely as he knew how, he got none—at least, not right away. Mappo's fur was all ruffled by being caught in the net, and he now began to smooth that out, until he looked more like himself. He peered through between the slats of his cage with his queer little eyes, and there was a sad look in them, if any one had noticed. But no one did. The natives were getting ready to carry Mappo to the coast. Poor Mappo looked out on the green jungle where he had lived ever since he could remember. He did not know that he was never to see it again. He would never climb the big trees, and swing from one branch to another. He would not play tag with his brothers and sisters, nor would he open cocoanuts on a sharp stick and by dropping them on a stone. Mappo was to be taken away from his nice jungle. Of course he did not know all this at once. All he knew now was that he was in a little crate, where he had hardly room enough to turn around, and no room at all to hang by his tail. "Come on—let's start with him!" called one of the black men. "We'll take him to the white people, and come back and catch some more monkeys." "Oh, I hope they catch some of my folks!" thought Mappo. He did not wish any harm to happen to his father or mother, or sisters or brothers, you know, but he was so lonesome, that he wanted to see some of them. The natives thrust long poles through the slats of Mappo's box, and, putting the poles over their shoulders, off through the jungle they started to march. Poor Mappo was very thirsty by this time, but though he chattered very hard, and cried "Water!" over and over again, in his monkey language, no one paid any attention to him. On and on went the natives, carrying the little monkey in a crate. After a while some other black men came along another path, and they, too, had boxes slung on poles, and in the boxes were other animals. In one was a big striped tiger, and when Mappo saw him, the monkey crouched down in a corner of his box and covered his eyes with his paws. "Oh, maybe it's the same tiger that tried to catch me, and whom I hit on the head with the empty cocoanut," thought Mappo. "If it is, he'll be very angry at me, and try to get me. "Oh dear! This is too bad. I guess this is the end of me!" Mappo cried. The natives carrying Mappo, in his box, ran forward with him, and as he looked out, he saw that his crate was close to the one in which was the growling, striped tiger. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" thought poor Mappo. "He'll get me sure!" <hr style='width: 65%;' /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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