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.
"Will you stop tickling me?" asked Jacko.
"I guess so--maybe!" laughed Mappo, trying to pull his tail out of his
brother's paw.
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