Kate Messner - Over and Under the Rainforest

For Tom, Jake, and Ella K. M.
For Jasper and River C. S. N.

Text copyright 2020 by Kate Messner.
Illustrations copyright 2020 by Christopher Silas Neal.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data:
Names: Messner, Kate, author. | Neal, Christopher Silas, illustrator.
Title: Over and under the rainforest / by Kate Messner ; illustrated by Christopher Silas Neal.

Description: San Francisco, California : Chronicle Books LLC, [2020] | Audience: Ages 5-8. | Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018035378 | ISBN 9781452169408 (hc) | ISBN 9781452169811 (epub2) | ISBN 9781452172132 (epub3) | ISBN 9781452172125 (kindle)
Subjects: LCSH: Rain forest animalsJuvenile literature. | RainforestsJuvenile literature. Classification: LCC QL112 .M47 2020 | DDC 591.734dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018035378

Book design by Amelia May Mack and Indya McGuffin.
Typeset in Jannon Antiqua.
The illustrations in this book were rendered in mixed media.

Chronicle Books LLC
680 Second Street, San Francisco, California 94107
www.chroniclekids.com

I nto the rainforest we hike, through slivers of sunlight and dripping-wet leaves.

Up in the trees, theres a symphony of sound! Chatters and chirps and a howling roar.

Whats up there? I whisper.

Up in the trees? Tito asks.

Up in the trees is a whole hidden worlda riot of monkeys and insects and birds. Were hiking under them now.

Up in the trees, oropendolas gurgle in low-swinging nests. Toucans croak and bicker over breakfast.

Down in the forest, I follow Tito along the trail, while agoutis search the ground for fallen fruit.

On to the footbridge we climb up, up, up.

Tito rests to catch his breath before we cross over the river below.

Up in the trees, long-nosed bats sleep away the daylight, all in a row.

Down on the bank, sleepy crocodiles bask in the sun.

As we cross, an emerald basilisk races us to the other side, barely skimming the rivers surface. Tito and I laugh at his fast, funny legs and wish we could walk on water, too.

We scramble over roots and rocks, climbing higher into the trees. A poison dart frog makes his way up a trunk with a tadpole on his back.

Our hanging bridge teeters and tips with every wobbly step. I keep a tight grip on the rail.

Were eye to eye with capuchin monkeys. They hold on with arms and legs and tailsswinging through branches, up here in the trees.

My stomach grumbles, and Tito reaches into his pack. We snack on dried mangoes and pineapple while the monkeys feast on wild almonds.

Way down below, leaf-cutter ants march in a line, carrying bits of leaves and petals back to their nest. A long-snouted anteater snuffles along, sniffing for a meal of his own.

The afternoon rain begins with a pattera pitter-soft drumming on the leaves up above. Soon, it swells to a strong, rushing pour, and all the world feels dripping and wet.

A blue morpho butterfly folds up her wings and tucks away on a tree trunk. High in the branches, a soggy mother sloth and her baby sleep through the storm.

Deep in the forest, the rain lets up. A parrot snake races over the trail, long and slender and green.

Shes hunting frogs, Tito says as the snakes skinny tail disappears in the leaves.

Up in the trees, an eyelash palm pit viper hunts, toocurled around a branch, patient and silent and still.

High in the canopy, a furry dark shadow clings to a branch. Tito lifts his hands to his mouth and sends a roar to the sky.

The forest waits, quiet...

Then Rrrowf! Rrrowf!Rroooooaaaahhhhhh! comes the answer. A thunder of howler monkeys up in the trees!

Their calls quiet down as the blue sky grows dark. Night falls fast in the forest. Our walk through the treetops is through.

At the base of the bridge, an orb spider weaves her weba golden tapestry that will catch moonlight and insects tonight.

Theres a sudden, sharp s n a p and I freeze in my tracks. A crack of a branch. A long, loud rustle. Then quiet again. Maybe its a jaguar, waking to hunt. Night is her time for growling and prowling through the shadows of the rainforest floor.