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.

[Illustration: 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.