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Then, sitting up in the tree on a high limb, Mappo, as he looked down at the tiger, chattered: "Ha! You didn't get me after all! You didn't catch me! I fooled you! Chatter-chatter-chat! Bur-r-r-r! Wuzzzzzzz! Whir-r-r-r-r-r!"
As Tum Tum went along through the bushes, he saw his little monkey friend. "Ha! There is Mappo!" said Tum Tum to himself, and he hurried on through the woods. "Wait a minute, Mappo!" called Tum Tum, in animal language. But Mappo would not wait, and Tum Tum could not tell the circus men with him that the lost monkey was just ahead of them.
But there are other animals of whose lives I can tell you, and the next book in this series is going to be called "Tum Tum, the Jolly Elephant: His Many Adventures." "Weren't you afraid when you climbed up that rain-water pipe to get the baby?" asked Don the dog of Mappo, one day. "I wasn't afraid of climbing, but I was a little afraid of the fire," said the monkey.
Inside, the tiger was growling and snarling louder than ever, and trying to break out through the iron bars. "Look out! He'll get away!" cried Mappo, who had run and jumped inside the cage with the other monkeys. "Old Sharp Tooth will get loose." "No, he won't!" said Tum Tum, who was now going toward the tiger's cage as fast as he could.
He turned it over and over in his paws. Then, with his fingers, he tried to pull it apart. But he could not do it. The nut was too hard for him. Next he tried to bite it open, but he could not. "Let me try. I can open it!" exclaimed Jacko. "No, I'll do it," said Mappo. "If you can't, I can," spoke Bumpo, and he gave a jump over toward Mappo, and once more he hit his head on a branch, Bumpo did.
I suppose you had guessed that before I told you at least those of you who have read my other book, called "Squinty, the Comical Pig." "Squinty, eh?" remarked Mappo. "That's a queer name." "They call me that because one of my eyes squints," said the little pig.
Monkeys are very mischievous and fond of playing tricks. That is what makes them so funny in the circus, and with the hand-organ men. When the monkeys awakened, they were thirsty. Mappo was going down, right away, to the ground and get a drink at a water-pool near the family tree. "Wait!" called his father, stretching out his long, hairy arms.
When the last wagon in, the procession had gone past and it was the steam piano which brought up at the end Mappo breathed a long breath. "Now I'm all right!" he thought. "They can't find me now. I'm going over into those woods. Maybe there is a jungle where I can find cocoanuts." Scrambling over rocks, stones and fences, Mappo made his way to the big woods.
He saw only white pieces of cocoanut on the ground. "I'll go down and get some, and then I'll run on and find my papa and mamma and brothers and sisters," thought Mappo. "They will want some of this cocoanut." Down he went, and began picking up the bits of cocoanut. They were rather small pieces and Mappo had to eat a great many of them before he felt he had enough.
There are a few pines in this bush, but not many. I can give you no idea of the variety among the shrubs: the koromika, like an Alpine rose, a compact ball of foliage; the lance-wood, a tall, slender stem, straight as a line, with a few long leaves at the top, turned downwards like the barb of a spear, and looking exactly like a lance stuck into the ground; the varieties of matapo, a beautiful shrub, each leaf a study, with its delicate tracery of black veins on a yellow-green ground; the mappo, the gohi, and many others, any of which would be the glory of an English shrubbery: but they seem to require the deep shelter of their native Bush, for they never flourish when transplanted.
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