Momo's First Howl

Page 1 — Before the sun

The forest was still dark when Momo opened his eyes. Above him the canopy was a tangle of black branches, and below him the canal was a thin silver ribbon between the trees. His mother breathed slowly beside him, her tail curled around the branch like a question mark. Momo was the smallest in the troop, and he had been waiting all night to hear what comes next.

Page 2 — The dawn alarm

Momo’s father stretched, pulled in a long breath, and let out a sound that filled the whole rainforest. Whoooaaaa-roooaaaa. It rolled across the canal, over the ceiba trees, all the way to the next troop three kilometers away. Howler monkeys are the loudest land animal in the Americas — they have a hollow bone in their throat, called the hyoid, that turns a small body into a giant voice. Momo opened his mouth and tried. A tiny squeak came out.

Page 3 — A visitor with a beak

A keel-billed toucan landed on the branch beside him, big yellow-and-green beak tilting. “Brave try, little one,” the toucan said, tossing a fig into the air and catching it. “My voice sounds like a frog with a cold. Yours will sound like thunder one day.” Momo laughed, which came out as another squeak. The toucan dropped the fig at his feet and flew on.

Page 4 — The wide gap

Momo’s father called from a tree on the other side of a wide, empty gap. The troop was moving — howler monkeys live their whole lives in the canopy and almost never come down to the ground. Momo crept along his branch until it began to bend under him. The next branch was too far for his arms. The canal glittered very, very far below.

Page 5 — The fifth hand

Momo stopped and remembered something his mother had taught him. He uncurled his tail — long and strong, with a bare patch on the underside that gripped like a hand. He wrapped it tight around the branch behind him. Then he stretched his arms out as far as they could go, and his fingers found the next branch. Howler monkeys have a tail that works like a fifth hand, with a print on the underside as unique as your own fingerprint.

Page 6 — A voice of his own

Momo settled beside his mother high in the cecropia tree, and she handed him a tender young leaf to chew. Howler monkeys eat mostly leaves, which is why they sleep more than half the day — leaves are good food, but slow food. The sun was up now, warm on his back. He took a long breath and tried his howl one more time, and this time it came out a little louder, a little rounder, a small thunder of his very own. Somewhere across the canal, a young howler he had never met called back. What would you say, if your voice could carry for three kilometers?