“I wonder where we are? ’Cause I ’spect we’re lost! I do.” Tibbs turned pale, but he said bravely-- “We’ll find a way out, somehow. But it is a bit risky. And I can’t see a sign of Celia.” While he paused to decide which way to fly, a flock of parrots flew past, screeching at the intruders. And they heard the roar of a lion from the undergrowth, awakened from his morning slumber by the parrots, and in a very angry mood. “I think we’d better move on,” whispered Tibbs. “’Es. They don’t seem very pleased we’ve come, do they?” “If we can find some of the Monkey People,” said Tibbs, after they had flown some distance further, “they’d be able to tell us which way to go.” “It’ll be lovely to see Monkey People,” said Kiddiwee. “It’ll be more lovely to get out of this beastly hot-house,” answered his brother. “We must reach Celia, and help her to find the West Wind, and it will be gone if we don’t hurry.” “It’s miserable without Cece!” pouted Kiddiwee, with tears in his eyes. “Hum!” said Tibbs gruffly. “I can’t see a monkey anywhere!” Scarcely had he said this, when Bang! Crash! Down came a cocoanut, just missing his head by half an inch! The Monkey People had found them, and were sending a greeting. “Hurrah! We’ve found them!” cried Tibbs, as he dodged another nut. “It’s a jolly good thing they can’t throw straight.” The Monkeys were very shy at first, and kept well out of reach, thronging the branches above the boys’ heads, peering at them with bright, inquisitive eyes. Then seeing that the intruders were only small man-cubs, and not dangerous, they came nearer. “Greeting!” cried a grizzled old Monkey, who was evidently the head of the tribe. “O cubs-with-the-butterfly-wings! Welcome! In the name of the Garra-garra-pom-nutta-garra Tribe, I greet you!” So said the aged Monkey, in a solemn manner. Tibbs wanted to laugh as the animal mentioned the name of his tribe. “I wonder if I’ve got to call him names too?” he asked his brother, anxiously. “’Spect so,” Kiddiwee replied, vaguely. “Oh--er. O He-of-the-long-curly-tail!” Tibbs began, hoping the Monkey would not be offended. “I’m--I’m very well, thank you! How are you, old chap?” he concluded nervously, and feeling very foolish. “O cubs-with-the-butterfly-wings! What want you?” asked the old Monkey, without a smile. “Well, we’re lost. And we want you to help us out!” replied Tibbs. [Illustration: The Chief of the Monkey Tribe.] “I and the Garra-garra-pom-nutta-garra Tribe are at the service of the Man-cubs!” said the Monkey kindly. “Come with me, O little-lost-ones!” Wondering what would happen next, Tibbs and Kiddiwee followed him, with the whole tribe chattering behind them. Before long they arrived at the edge of the forest, and the old Monkey said-- “Fly over the plains-- Keeping the sunshine Upon the right shoulder, until you reach a mighty river, and follow that till you come to the West Wind’s bower--and there you will find what you are seeking!”