But the other monkeys in the woods heard what the mother of Mappo was saying, and they, too, began to shout, in their language: 

“Look out for the tiger!  There is a tiger hiding down under the bushes!  Look out for him!”

Soon the whole jungle was filled with the sound of the chattering of the monkeys, as, one after another, they began to shout.  It was a warning they shouted—­a warning to Mr. Monkey to be careful when he came near his home—­to be careful of the tiger lying in wait for him.

My! what a noise those monkeys made, shouting and chattering in the jungle.  You could hear them for a mile or more.  It was their way of telephoning to Mappo’s papa.  Monkeys cannot really telephone, you know—­that is, not the way we do—­but they can shout, one after another, so as to be heard a long way off.

First one would chatter something about the tiger—­then another monkey, farther off, would take up the cry, and so on until Mr. Monkey heard it.  So it was as good as a telephone, anyhow.

As soon as Mappo’s papa, who had gone a long distance from the tree-house to look for some bananas for his family—­as soon as he heard the shouting about the tiger, he said to himself: 

“Well, I must get home as quickly as I can, to look after my family.  But I’ll be careful.  I hope Mappo and the others will stay in the tall trees.”

For Mr. Monkey well knew that if his wife and little ones stayed up in the high trees the tiger could not very well get at them, though tigers can sometimes climb low trees.

Meanwhile Mrs. Monkey was keeping good watch over her little ones.  They had no idea, now, of going down on the ground to play—­at least as long as the tiger was hiding near them in the bushes.

“But I wish we had something to do,” said Mappo, who was a merry little chap, always laughing, shouting, running about or playing some trick on his brothers and sisters.  Just then he thought of a little trick.

He went softly up behind Jacko, and tickled him on the ear with a long piece of a tree branch.  Jacko thought it was a fly, and put up his paw to brush it away.  Mappo pulled the tree branch away just in time, and while Jacko was peeling the skin off a bit of fruit, to eat it, Mappo again tickled his brother.

“Oh that fly!” chattered Jacko.  “If I get hold of him!” and again he brushed with his paw at what he thought was a fly.

This made Mappo laugh.  The merry little monkey laughed so hard that the next time he tried to tickle Jacko, Mappo’s paw slipped, and Jacko, turning around, saw his brother.

“Oh ho!  So it was you, and not a fly!” cried Jacko.  He dropped his fruit, and raced after his brother.  Up through the tree, nearly to the top, went the two monkeys, as fast as they could.  They laughed and chattered, for it was all in fun.

Finally Jacko caught Mappo by the tail.

“Oh, let go!” begged Mappo.