“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!”

CHAPTER V

MAPPO ON THE SHIP

Mappo, who had taken his paws down from his eyes long enough to look at the striped tiger, now blind-folded himself, with his paws again, and shivered.  All of a sudden the tiger growled, and Mappo shivered still more.

“Ha!  Growl and roar as much as you like!” called one of the black natives.  “You can’t get out of there, Sharp-Tooth!” That was the name the jungle men had given the tiger.  “You can’t get out of that crate!” went on the native, and when Mappo heard that, he took down his paws once more, and looked at the tiger.  He was sure it was the same one at whom he had thrown the cocoanut, and he wondered how the fierce, strong beast had been caught.  Then Mappo looked at the crate in which the tiger was being carried along through the jungle.

“Ha!  That is a good, strong crate!” thought Mappo.  “It is much stronger than the one I am in.  I guess the tiger can’t get out, and I am glad of it.  I mean I am sorry he is shut up, and I am sorry for myself, that I am shut up, and being taken away, but I would not like the tiger to get loose, while I am near him.”

And indeed the cage holding the tiger was very strong.  It had big pieces of tree branches for slats, and it took eight men to carry it, for the tiger was very heavy.  Side by side, slung in their crates on the poles, over the shoulders of the black natives, Mappo and Sharp-Tooth, the tiger, were carried through the jungle.