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Twelve months in Madagascar

Chapter 12: CHAPTER IX. OUR JOURNEY TO MOJANGÁ.
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About This Book

A missionary deputation records a year of travel and observation across central regions of the island, documenting a recent religious upheaval in which traditional idols were publicly destroyed and large-scale conversions led to rapid chapel building and expansion of native churches. The authors describe meetings with the monarch and local authorities, consultations with various missionary societies, detailed ecclesiastical life, and pressing social issues such as trade and rum. They also report new geographical surveys, mapping volcanic fields, lakes, and provincial routes, and assess the challenges and prospects for continued missionary and educational work among diverse provincial communities.

CHAPTER IX.
 
OUR JOURNEY TO MOJANGÁ.

Our work in Imerina was done: we had only a fortnight left to make our preparations for another voyage, to complete sundry matters of business, and say farewell to our friends. The day after our return we attended the opening services of Mr. Jukes’s church at Ankadibeváva on the east slope of the city-hill. The Directors of the Society had assisted the native congregation by a grant of £300: and for that sum and other contributions raised by the people, Mr. Pool had erected a substantial and handsome building, convenient for worship and an ornament to the city. The church, when the seats are finished, will hold eight hundred people. The congregations were large at the opening services, and as in other lands on similar occasions the ladies appeared in bright and even gorgeous dresses. Several new hymns and tunes, prepared for the occasion, were most effectively sung by choirs from various churches and the congregation at large. Amongst other addresses, a touching sermon was preached by an officer high in the Government and the community, from the text: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

Among minor incidents of our life at this time, I may mention that, while spending a pleasant evening with Dr. Davidson, the house and city were well shaken by an earthquake, the second we have experienced during our year in the island. The shock was a moderate one, and its general direction was north and south.

On Thursday, July 16th, we were invited to a very pleasant entertainment, by the members of the Friends’ Mission, the Medical Mission and of our own Society, that they might express their kind feelings toward us in relation to our visit, and together wish us farewell. The members of the Friends’ Mission have all along been working in perfect harmony with our own: and it was a source of great satisfaction to my colleague and myself, that by making their acquaintance, looking into the form and character of their work, and settling one or two questions which had been pending, we had been able to draw the bonds between the two missions even closer than before. To the members of the Medical Mission the families of our mission are under great obligations for constant and unvarying kindness: while in their special work of giving effective help to the native families of the city, young and old, rich and poor, and in the medical education of young men, our brethren and ourselves can feel nothing but warm sympathy, and give them willing co-operation and aid. The stations of the Norwegian Mission we had seen in various parts of the southern country; and from all the missionary brethren, in country and in town, we had experienced great kindness. The members of all four missions are at the present time in complete accord; they have the same spiritual aims; they teach the same Evangelical doctrine: they are co-operating in many ways together in their plans: and week by week they meet together in each other’s homes to ask for the same Divine blessing on the missions to which they belong. That we had done anything to promote this loving union, was a source of much pleasure to us both. We were assured in various quarters that it was so. And at this social gathering Mr. Dahl spoke in affectionate and emphatic terms of the benefit which, in this direction of union, our visit had conferred upon them all.

The native pastors manifested the warmest affection toward us, as the time of our departure drew near: and on Saturday evening they paid us a formal visit. Fifteen were present. They said kind things of ourselves and our coming amongst them: gave each of us a beautiful silk lamba as a parting gift: sent the most affectionate messages to the Directors and the friends of the Society at home; and then requested Mr. Pillans as a pastor of long experience to give them some parting counsels in regard to their work. When he had finished the younger pastors, who had but just left the College and entered upon Church work, asked for a few special words for themselves. No young pastors in England could have made the request more naturally, have listened more intelligently, or have been more grateful for the weighty words which fell from my colleague’s lips, than these young men. And it gives us hope and confidence in regard to the future of our churches, that such are the simple, true-hearted, well-trained ministers of Christ, whom our Theological College has begun to send forth to be the guides and instructors of the Malagasy Church.

Our friends within the Palace also studiously manifested their regard for us. Three of the principal officers, from whom we have all along received much kindness, visited us, and presented us with dresses and other manufactures of the country; each giving us different specimens of native work. And one, not only sent messages to his young cousins, now being educated in Europe, but desired us to express his warmest thanks to the Directors and our Churches, for the service which they have long rendered to his countrymen in Madagascar by preaching among them the gospel of Christ. The Queen and Prime Minister added many expressions and proofs of their regard to those of their relatives and friends. And it was arranged that on the morning of Saturday, July 18th, the Queen should in the presence of the Court, grant us audience to say farewell, as she had given us a formal reception on our arrival; and that she should then place in our hands her reply to the Address of the Directors which we had brought with us.

We were accompanied by several members of the Mission, including our kind interpreter, the Rev. W. E. Cousins, and punctually at ten o’clock we were introduced. The Queen received us in the usual audience hall of her own palace. She was seated on a sofa on the north side of the hall: and we observed that she had under her feet a gilded footstool, sent by a member of my family, while an illuminated Scripture card, given by Mrs. Pillans, was hanging on the wall; a thoughtful recognition of little attentions shown to her in our first interview. There was a large assembly of the officers of government, who stood chiefly on the Queen’s right: and almost as numerous a gathering of ladies, who were seated in two rows upon her left, wearing English morning dress. The interview was a remarkable one in many ways.

Addressing the Queen for my colleague and myself I made the usual enquiries after her health, and the welfare of her kingdom; and then said that we had completed the work which had brought us to Madagascar, and had come to say farewell. We had been sent by their friends across the sea to salute the churches of Madagascar, to consult with them and with the missionaries as to their welfare, to arrange for the enlargement of the mission, and to visit those parts of the country in which the mission is carried on. We had in this way visited the Betsileo province and Imámo, Vonizóngo and the Sihánaka; we had described to her in our letters what we had seen, and especially had expressed our gratification at the great progress of the gospel among the churches of her people. We were now anxious to see the churches in the Sákaláva country, and proposed to take the English steamer at Mojangá.

We thanked her and the Prime Minister for much personal kindness; for their warm interest in the welfare of the churches; and for the wise words spoken by the Queen on several occasions about the schools. We thanked them for their special interest in the progress of the students in the College and in the Normal Schools: and we commended these institutions to their continued care. We thanked the Queen for her care over the English missionaries; and that they and their families and ourselves lived so safely in the land. Might we add one thing. We had seen how the churches were growing: how they worshipped, and kept the Sabbath-day and were governed in an orderly way. But forms were not faith: the spirit and life are needed: the Teacher is the Holy Spirit, the root and rule of faith are to be found only in His word. We should pray for the churches that they might have this life in a large measure: Madagascar has many friends in England, and will have many more. To this Mr. Pillans added a few words. The address was translated sentence by sentence by Mr. Cousins; as was also the reply.

The reply of the Prime Minister was warm and hearty. The Queen (he said) was pleased to see us again and to hear our words; those words were good. The Queen and himself thanked the Directors for their kind presents and the messages they had sent. They were glad, very glad, to see the progress of the gospel among their people: for “What should it profit a man if he gain the whole world, yet lose his own soul?” They were glad we had come to visit the churches and the island: they had often wished that some friends might specially be sent to see the progress which the mission and people had made: therefore they had given us full opportunity to travel everywhere and see things for ourselves: they had nothing to conceal, they wished us to see that the money and labour expended on Madagascar had not been expended in vain. In respect to the missionaries, he said they thought them good men and good preachers and did their work well: but we were sensible men and could judge of this for ourselves. The Queen would still protect them and permit them to continue their work in perfect freedom.

The Prime Minister then, in the name of the Queen, desired us to convey their thanks to the Directors for all the good which the Society had been doing in Madagascar. They remembered that it was our Society, which had sent missionaries and the gospel in the days of Radáma I.: that it had always been their friend; and that it was now sending thirty missionaries for the instruction of their people. Therefore they desired us to convey their thanks to the friends of the Society across the sea for all their kindness. He added a special message about the education of his son, who is under the care of the Directors. Lastly the Queen regretted that we could not be present at the opening of the Palace-church; she would have liked us to be present: but we could see that it was not yet finished. After a few further remarks we took our leave.

The written address, forwarded by the Queen in reply to that of the Directors, is as clear and explicit as the Prime Minister’s spoken words. It is in itself a most interesting document. But the authorities, to manifest their appreciation of the honour which the Directors had shown to them, employed all the means in their power to illuminate and ornament their reply as the Directors had done. The result was a work of art most creditable to the island: it gave the Board great satisfaction; and it will be framed and placed in the Board-room. The words are as follows:—

To the Directors of the London Missionary Society.

Gentlemen,

“Our good friends, the Rev. Dr. Mullens, Foreign Secretary to the London Missionary Society, and the Rev. J. Pillans, one of the Directors, and his lady, have reached Madagascar in safety; and, whilst we were in Fianarantsoa, had an opportunity of joining with Her Majesty and MYSELF in public worship at the camp.

On our return to the Capital, they had again an audience of Her Majesty and MYSELF in the Palace, and on that occasion they presented your Address, dated London, June 30, 1873, together with the various presents sent by your Society to Her Majesty and MYSELF.

“The Address has been carefully perused, and its contents duly noted by Her Majesty, and I am authorised by Her to answer it.

“I have to inform you that, through the blessings of the Divine Being, Her Majesty the Queen, MYSELF and all the members of the Government, are well. The Kingdom enjoys peace; but, more than that, Her Majesty is happy to tell you, that by the power of the Most High and the mercy of Jesus Christ our Saviour, according to the saying, ‘The King’s heart is in the hands of the Lord,’ God has shown mercy to our Sovereign, and has enlightened HER to know Jesus Christ, and has endowed HER with strength, so that from the time when she began to receive the Gospel, SHE has led and encouraged her subjects to serve God and pray to Him through Jesus Christ, and to be diligent in using all opportunities of acquiring useful knowledge. SHE has also done her best to help the missionaries of your Society, so that, during the reign of Her Majesty Ranavalomanjaka, the Kingdom of Christ has made great progress in Madagascar, and the number of believers has increased more than during any period, notwithstanding the way in which the missionaries for many years contended with difficulties, and exerted themselves to the utmost. But still the Queen continues to pray God that His Kingdom may advance until the joyful words shall be fulfilled which say, ‘They shall all know Me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith the Lord,’

Her Majesty the Queen thanks you, the Directors, and all the constituents of the Society, because she knows your ardent desire to benefit her kingdom by your sending Missionaries and Teachers to preach and teach the Gospel and other useful knowledge, from the reign of His Majesty Radáma I. to the present time. Her Majesty therefore wishes me to assure you that the missionaries and teachers sent by you to labour in Madagascar shall continue to enjoy Her protection, and be allowed full liberty to preach the Gospel, and to impart useful knowledge in accordance with the laws of the kingdom.

Our friends, the Rev. Dr. Mullens and the Rev. J. Pillans, have been allowed perfect liberty to travel where-ever they have pleased to visit the Churches of Madagascar, they have had full opportunities of making their own observation, and will be able to bring you a reliable report of the state of things here. May God protect them to reach you in safety! What they have done here has been good, and has given us much pleasure. They are worthy men, and well fitted to act as the representatives of you, our friends, across the seas. We are especially pleased with their words saying,—‘We do not trade nor desire to gain anything for ourselves, but only that the people may know Jesus Christ.’ These are indeed very good words, for they show both the excellence of your views, and also what will be sought by your good brethren the missionaries in Madagascar.

Her Majesty thanks you very much for your kind message, and the good wishes for the prosperity of her kingdom; and SHE prays GOD that they may be fulfilled. She also thanks you for the presents you sent HER, and accepts them as a mark of your friendly feelings towards HER.

And I, too, thank you very much for the nice presents you sent to me.

Her Majesty also desires me to thank you for the very kind care you have taken of Rapenoelina, for he was sent by HER Government that he might obtain a good English education. What you have done for him has given Her Majesty great satisfaction, as his progress is already manifest from his letters to me. Her Majesty will be pleased if you convey to Rapenoelina’s teacher the thanks of HERSELF and her Government; for his instruction and kind care have given HER very much pleasure.

May the Almighty God bless you in your useful labours for the evangelizing of mankind, and may He ever give to the people earnest hearts to help you to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ among all nations.

That, dear friends, is the wish of Her Majesty the Queen of Madagascar and MYSELF for you all.

I Am, Gentlemen,
‘In the name of Her Majesty the Queen of Madagascar,
Your Sincere Friend,
Rainilaiarivony,
“Prime Minister.

Given at the Court of Her Majesty the Queen of Madagascar, at Antananarivo, this 18th day of July, in the year of our Lord, 1874.”

The news of what had passed at this interview, was speedily circulated among the people, and gave them much satisfaction. Pastors and congregations everywhere expressed a hearty concurrence with the words of their Sovereign; for there prevails among them a deep feeling of attachment to the Society, which for fifty years has stood their friend, which never forgot them in the dark days, which sprang at once to their side when light and order returned, and which is doing at the present time more than ever for the edification of its Malagasy children.

Our heavy baggage was sent on a-head. On Sunday we held a farewell service with our missionary brethren of the four Societies and their families: and on Tuesday morning many of them accompanied us several miles along the banks of the Ikopa. Then with difficulty we said farewell; and took our last look of the city of Antanánarivo, in which we had spent so many pleasant days. Just at sunset, we safely reached Vonizongo: and occupied our old quarters at Fiháonana in Mr. Matthews’s house.

The route to the north-west coast which we were about to follow was new to Englishmen, though employed for fifty years by the native authorities. Since Radáma and his cousin Rámanétaka, with the Hova army, subdued the Iboina district in 1824, and governors (or commanders as they are termed) and garrisons had been placed in several of its towns, messengers, officers and detachments of troops have continually passed up and down country between Imerina and the conquered province. Unhappily little information could be gathered from them; for our native friends make neither Itineraries nor maps; they have no good standard for measuring distance or time: and changes in the scenery, details as to valleys, hills and rivers, are things which they have not yet learned to note. M. Grandidier travelled from Mojangá to the Capital; but he did so by a route some miles to the east of our own: and even of that route he has spoken only in brief terms. Mr. Maynard, who returned to England a few months before ourselves, had at our suggestion taken this route; and he gave us several valuable hints and indicated the general character of our journey. A colporteur also from Vonizongo prepared for us an outline of his own proceedings and adventures, when he visited the churches down country last year.

All parties took great interest in our proposed expedition: the majority regarding it with hearty approval, while others gravely shook their heads. “It was a serious experiment:” “the fevers were deadly.” “The roads were rough and rocky,” said the bearers: “Sákalávas, enemies, robbers, were to be expected:” “for some days the country was a desert; and we should find nothing to eat for ourselves and our people, and no place to sleep!” We persevered; for we have conquered such difficulties before: and have found Malagasy, as well as English, bugbears and bogies collapse when well grasped. It was of importance that the churches in the Sakalava country should no longer be overlooked; that an attempt should be made to open the route more fully to Mojangá; and that the Directors should be enabled to decide whether an English missionary should or should not be placed at that station, with a view to superintend the churches and the mission work of the district at large. The fears of the bearers could of course be gauged by money: they soon showed that if they were to go at all, they intended to make a good thing of the journey: and it was not without difficulty that their exorbitant demands were reduced within reasonable limits. Even then we had to pay twenty-six shillings to each man for the journey down, before our arrangements could be completed; and several of our best men deserted us at the last moment, because they thought that rate not sufficiently remunerative. Mr. Matthews had engaged to be our companion and interpreter: but early in July, family illness compelled him to lay the plan aside, and Mr. Jukes very kindly took his place. We were greatly indebted to him for much kind and effective service rendered to us on the way.

In Vonizongo we rested a day to complete our preparations, to rearrange our baggage, and write our last letters. On Thursday, July 23d, we fairly entered upon the unknown; and we reached Mojangá in perfect health and comfort on Saturday, August 8th, having spent sixteen days on the way. All our men, ninety-five in number, were with us, suffering from nothing worse than fatigue. And it was amusing to find that, after all that had been said and feared, we had had one of the most safe, easy and enjoyable journeys, performed during our visit to the island.

The country we now visited divides itself into three sections, differing in a marked degree from one another. The first section includes the inhabited country among the hills: Noman’s land occupies the middle position; and the Sákaláva plains, as far as the sea, take the third.

The first section of our journey carried us along four broad terraces, of which three mark very decided falls of the ground towards the sea. At the same time our course led us, not directly to the most abrupt descent of the ground, viz. toward the west; but obliquely along the descent, and over a larger space of ground. This is the reason why we found the journey so easy and pleasant.

While travelling on Thursday, July 21, through Vonizongo, we followed the track we had already taken, on that pleasant Sunday which we spent in December 1873, with the people of Sambaina. As then, we traversed the high moors beyond Fiháonana, the ground rising higher and higher, till we came abreast of the great ridge of Ambohimanga which here curves toward the east. As before, the south-east wind blew keen and cold over these exposed moors, which lie 4600 feet above the sea. We descended over the edge of the ridge, seven hundred feet: and came into North Vonizongo, a long level valley, between two pleasant lines of hills and drained by the river Andránobe. On the left we had the noble ridge of Ambóhidambínana, with a large village Ambohizáfy at its foot. Other small villages are near. Proceeding due north, we came upon a curious bend of the Andranobe (3880 feet), and crossed that river twice. The people informed us that it rises on the north side of Andringitra and east of Lohavóhitra: it passes through the populous valleys near Ambóhitrólona, with their numerous churches; rounding the promontory of Ambohimanga, it enters north Vonizongo; and having watered that valley for many miles, passes through the western line of hills and falls into the Ikopa. We have ourselves seen the greater part of this course. Passing a few villages beyond this bend of the river we came to Ambohitromby, where our men had their morning meal. We ourselves had tiffin in a private house: and the good people took the opportunity of seeking light on a variety of outside Biblical questions which trouble the Malagasy mind. We did our best to explain them: and everything would have gone well, if the long strings of venerable soot hanging from the roof had not diverted themselves by dropping contributions into our rice and tea. A pleasant and easy journey during the afternoon, brought us early to the village of Ankazobe (3830 feet). With fourteen houses, surrounded by deep fosses and high cactus hedges, full of dust and pigs, a chapel with a falling wall, clumsy window-frames and no windows, it was not a first-rate place of accommodation either for ourselves or our men. We managed however: though the night was very cold.

Next day we continued along North Vonizongo, and sent our baggage direct to Maháridaza, a few miles distant, where we were to sleep. We ourselves turned aside to climb the lofty ridge of Angavo (4880 feet), which promised numerous and valuable observations. We had a long and heavy climb, but were amply repaid by the prospect we obtained. It was no scene of beauty that spread around us: we looked upon a treeless, empty wilderness: the only population was in the long valley up which we had come. The whole district is within the region of the sedimentary clay: the valleys have been scored out of it by water: and naturally the clay hills are of one height. Looking over the eastern ridge in the direction of the Anátivolo, we could not discern one prominent hill: all the summits were of uniform height. To the west it was the same. The only exception was in portions of ridges like the Angavo on which we stood. This was a grand mass of gneiss; and the bluff at its northern end is a lofty perpendicular precipice, one of the finest rocks we have seen in the country. North of Angavo, the next ridge is unbroken, the valley of North Vonizongo is completely shut in; part of the waters have escaped down the Andránobe on the south-west: the remainder have swirled round the precipice at the head of the ridge, have cut out a beautiful hollow in the northern hills and have escaped along the west side of Angavo, down what is now the valley of the River Antrobo. The ridge itself and others parallel with it trend off to the south-west. To the south Lohavohitra and Tsi-áfa-balála were conspicuous points: and to the north we fixed the position of several prominent hills, near which we subsequently passed. Descending the Angavo ridge on its western side, we crossed the Antrobo, and as we went along saluted the inhabitants of Antándrokomby, a village of forty houses, who came out to meet us. The precipice of Angavo overhangs this village and it looked grand indeed, as we passed close to its foot.

Maharidaza we found to be a village of forty-two houses; very dirty and with countless herds of swine. The people were very ignorant but very willing. Some of them had never seen a person write, until Mrs. Pillans showed them how it was done and what meaning it had. It reminded me of the early days of Raiatea, when John Williams, to the astonishment of his people, used “to make chips talk.” They have had but little attention paid to their wants, and although there are chapels all up the valley to this point, the means of instruction at their command have been very scanty. Now however that the organisation of the Imerina Mission has been extended, Mr. Stribling will probably give regular superintendence to all these churches. With them and their neighbours the ordinary population of Northern Imerina in this direction comes to an end.

On Saturday we had a short journey. Our course lay up the inner bend of the long valley, and then we climbed over the ridge by the pass of Ambohimena (4800 feet): and on the hill to the west we took several useful observations. Nowhere did we see signs of upheaval in the latest and existing stage of things. The entire country was sedimentary clay, which had buried and enveloped the gneiss ridges and boulders of an earlier time, and was now cut and scored to great depths by the action of water.

To the east and west the tops of the hills were of the same height. To the north the clay had given way. The red hill of Ambohimena and the ridge to which it belongs is the edge of the Vonizongo terrace. On the north side the ground begins rapidly to fall. And we pass down two or three long stairs before we reach Noman’s Land; the total fall in which, over a length of sixty miles is 1700 feet. The fall was patent to the eye, and it showed itself in two parallel valleys, divided by a remarkable line of conical hills. In less than three hours we reached Kinajy (3490).

The town of Kinajy is the first of a series of military stations, five in number, in the direction of the Sakalava country, and along the line of easiest access. It is the guard and gate of the north-west road into Imerina. Each of these towns has its commander, its government house, and its garrison. Each is at the same time a great cattle post; and immense herds, belonging to men high in authority in Imerina, are fed and tended in their neighbourhood. The kraals in which they are kept are very large. The town consists of sixty-eight houses, and is placed on a spur of the hills, having many deep gullies on its northern side. On the south it has a double gateway: and each gate can be closed both with poles and stones. The pigs as usual were multitudinous. But the chapel was a clean little building, neatly fitted with mats, and the Governor and his people willingly allowed us to occupy it. We spent a most pleasant Sunday with them. The building was well filled both morning and afternoon: the congregation included several respectable Hova families, dressed with great neatness: and as Mr. Jukes had not yet overtaken us, we were glad to find that we had in our camp two native preachers, who could speak well and to whom the people listened with pleasure. All day long we were receiving applications for books, especially the new lesson-book: the young people were delighted to practise the new tunes and hymns; and I had a large number of patients suffering from feverish colds.

We spent the next three days in completing our journey through the Hova stations; and found the country very easy to traverse. The moment we left Kinajy, the ground began to fall. We crossed a fine valley to the north; and at an opening between two conical hills, came upon a little winding river, the Mánankázo, “that which has wood,” a truly descriptive name, when in the midst of this dry, clay country, the only bushes and trees were to be found in the ravine of the stream. The river rises in the hills near Vohilena, to the north of the Anátivolo. On the bank and along the roots of the hills the grass was truly beautiful: much of it was in vast tufts, very tall, tinted with pink and purple; another kind was a strong, reedy grass: and a third was crowned with a handsome white feather, soft as down. Passing to the eastward over the shoulder of these rounded hills, we came into a second valley, and found ourselves between high parallel gneiss ranges, with a rough and rocky edge. A stream of clear water came out of the eastern hills, called the Firingáláva: and we crossed many streamlets rushing down to join it.

We took our lunch at Ambohinorina, the second of these garrison towns, with fifty houses and a clay chapel: duly enclosed by a ditch, wall, and gates. Four miles north was a deep basin, which ended in a ravine down which the river ran. Here the grass was on fire, and we had to run the gauntlet: then we climbed the ridge to a higher level, and passed between two noble mountains, Sáháfásika, on the west, four miles in length; and Ambohibe on the right. Both these mountains we had duly noted from Angavo: and the double head of the latter, made it a conspicuous object for many miles. We spent the night at Ampotaka (2490), a dirty town of thirty houses, with an immense cattle fold and fine herds that filled it. Beyond Ampotaka, we mounted high ridges, which gave us excellent observing stations, but over which the east wind was sweeping with violence. We looked down at one point upon deep valleys, and passed along the upper edge of a fine waterfall. The hills were very fine in all directions and the scenery was truly picturesque. We now descended into the valley of the Máhamókamita, “that which makes musquitoes to cross,” which passes clean through the western ridge. The river comes from the moor on the south-east; it winds much through the clay, into which it has cut deep, and in the middle of the glen into which we descended it falls in a fine cascade over a reef of hard rocks. All through the glen the scenery was bold and pleasing. We came out into an open and level basin, in the centre of which was the town of Mangasoavina (2160).

This was a pleasant town of eighty houses, enclosing a rova and stockade: with abundance of cattle, pigs and fowls. The people were exceedingly intelligent and we found them hospitable and kind. The basin in which it stands is eight miles across; the land is grassy and level: several villages were in sight: and we judged that altogether there were four hundred houses in the town and neighbourhood. A fine gneiss hill Andriba, formed its northern boundary: and when we had rounded it, we found beyond a second basin, containing fine clumps of the rofia palm, and a few travellers’ trees. It was a charming spot, with small villages and rice cultivation. The basin was crossed by the river Kámolándi, which like the Máhamókamita, drains the eastern moors and passes to the west into the Ikopa. Half a mile beyond the river was the town of Malatsy (2140), the fifth and last of these garrison towns. The town has sixty houses; on the slopes there may be some ninety more; and about a hundred others scattered about the valley. Near the centre of the valley is a Sakaláva village, the people of which were greatly interested in my photographing, when I endeavoured to take successively pictures of the Andriba Hill and of the Rofia palms. Here once more the grass was on fire and the roaring flames passed within a short distance of our position. We secured valuable additions to our series of observations and carried our stations onward into the districts we have yet to traverse.

The religious and social condition of these five towns was a matter of serious concern to us all. The populations are not numerous: they are exiled: they are isolated. But they are important in themselves; and they have an important relation to the communities still beyond them. They are easy of access. They lie along the valleys at intervals of from six to ten miles, and small clumps of houses are found in their neighbourhood. East and west the country seemed entirely empty. No English missionary had visited them, till we went along the line. Mr. Matthews, their nearest neighbour, had been too occupied with the pressing work of his own district to see them personally: but he had several times sent a colporteur among them with books and Scriptures. The only other help they have received is from Hova officers and soldiers and their families, who have passed by them on their journeys northward or when they have come to settle on public duty in their midst. Naturally therefore we found their condition backward and needing much attention from Christian people.

Kinajy contains some active Christians, and the little chapel is not only well kept, but is usually well filled. There are sixteen church members in the community: many could read: four could write; and there was an earnest and persevering demand for books, which we were glad to supply. Ambohinorina has a little clay chapel: no school: scarcely one person able to spell out a few words. Yet they were most hearty in their hospitality and they seemed eager to learn. Ampotoka has a little chapel of reeds and mud. Two could read. A few knew the alphabet. There was not a Bible in the village; there was however one Testament. Altogether the people were very dark.

Mangasoavina was much more advanced. There were twenty who could read: many more knew their letters. Sixteen were baptized and form the church. They have one service on the Sabbath and one hundred and fifty people attend. They have two pastors.

The people were anxious to have a service during the evening of our stay; and Mr. Jukes gladly assented to their request. My colleague, Mr. Pillans, has given an interesting account of this little conference at which he was present. In going into the governor’s house where the people had assembled, he passed through the kitchen, where a fire was burning on the floor filling the house with smoke. In an inner room were thirty or forty people seated on the floor. In the midst stood a native lamp, with a thick wick; and a little girl fed the lamp from time to time by dipping a stick into a lump of grease and stripping it into the lamp with her fingers. The light was sufficient to make darkness visible: but scarcely enough to enable Mr. Jukes, though down on his knees, to read the texts to which his enquiring companions continually referred him. “We were anxious to learn what kind of teaching these people received, and enquired what the pastors taught. ‘To do no evil’ (they said) ‘and to love one another.’ ‘But what do they teach about Christ?’ ‘To observe his laws.’ ‘What do they teach about Christ himself?’ ‘That he was a substitute for the guilty.’ ‘What about the Holy Spirit?’ One said it was a difficult subject.—They had many questions to ask about the Bible and particular texts: some of which reminded us of questions which have occupied both learned and unlearned at home. ‘Who was Melchizedek?’ ‘Who wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews?’ ‘Why did Christ call himself the Son of man?’ ‘What is the meaning of the parable of the tares?’ and so on. The wife of one of the pastors, a daughter of the governor, took a leading part in this conversation. She seemed a most intelligent woman and an eager inquirer. All the people expressed themselves as most grateful for our visit and urged their need of help from the Imerina Mission. Mr. Jukes suggested that they should unite with their neighbours in the villages around and get a teacher from Imerina. They could easily support him and he would have a good sphere of labour.” They should also enjoy occasional visits from the missionaries in Vonizongo. The distance is not great: the influence and sympathy of an Englishman go very far with our native converts and encourage them much: and the assurance that they were known and watched and cared for by their Imerina friends would prove an invaluable stimulus to their improvement.

Beyond Malatsy came the second distinct section of our journey, a portion of the Noman’s Land of Madagascar. It took us two days to cross it. It is usually termed “the desert;” but that name is scarcely applicable to a land full of valleys, small streams of clear, fresh water, and chains of hills covered in part with wood. It is scarcely applicable to a region in the midst of which we found the river Ikopa, a fine broad stream, falling over huge rocks in noble cataracts and watering a thousand fair islands, that stud its bosom with bright and living green. The region is doubtless unpeopled: we saw not a hut on our line of march, not a blade of rice, not a yard of cultivation. It was interesting to us to meet this district once more. We have come upon it in the South; in the East; away in the West; and now in two places in the North. It is easily accounted for as the border land between the Coast tribes and the Hovas of Imerina and Betsileo, between whom till recent times there was perpetual feud; and therefore not to be cultivated with any hope of profit. It seems to form a complete ring round the central provinces: and it leaves the sea-coast a poor, ill-peopled district indeed.

Our bearers made elaborate preparations for crossing this region of “the unknown.” They spent half a day in pounding and husking rice; in eating hearty meals; and in sharpening their numerous spears. With a view to prevent the loss of stragglers, who might be sick or footsore, we arranged to march in military order: and while my colleague led the little column, Mr. Jukes and I agreed to bring up the rear. The announcement that we would do so, gave the liveliest satisfaction: and when we allowed Mr. Jukes’s empty rifle to be strapped outside his baggage as a warning to evil-minded persons, there stole over the countenances of our friends an expression of serenity and peace truly refreshing to behold. The Malagasy as a rule have immense faith in an empty gun, even though they have no powder near.

We left Malatsy early on Thursday, July 30th. The need of our precautions against straggling was soon seen. Within the first quarter of an hour of our march, seven men lagged behind for no solid reason whatever. But we whipped them up and kept them to their duty: and we reached the resting-place within a quarter of an hour of my colleague’s arrival. On two subsequent occasions we picked up a poor fellow suffering from fever, and thoroughly unable to manage his load. His companions readily shared it or carried it in turn; and we were able to bring the invalids safely in. Had we left them, it is certain that they would have travelled for miles in perfect loneliness and at the best would have arrived long after ourselves. It is these unhappy stragglers who alone are exposed to real danger.

We had a most pleasant march through the solitudes of this “lone land.” Our course lay up long valleys, over first one pass and then another; or over hard clay ridges, sprinkled with quartz gravel, and then along some clear stream, bordered with fresh, green wood. The valleys were simple and open and very green. The rofia palm grew more abundant: there were varieties of the acacia with their pinnate leaves; with a few specimens of the bamboo palm; and of the dábo, a coarse fig tree. The bamboo cane was common, with its tall stalk, from fifteen to twenty feet high, and its soft, white feather at the crown; there was the wild citron also. Everywhere the grass was strong and full of beauty. All the streams too had cut their way down to the rock. The eye could see that the ground was falling rapidly: we were continually descending the slopes of hills: the gullies in the red clay were deep and numerous: nowhere was the ground level, till we reached the rock.

Our first halt was by a pretty stream, under the Pass of Marókolohy. The men spread themselves out along the water and soon had their little fires blazing and the rice boiling in their iron pots and tin saucepans. We ourselves rested under a tree: and a small supply of English stores on this and similar journeys, tins of soup and meat and vegetables, good cocoa and first-rate tea, rendered us independent of surrounding circumstances and satisfied our English tastes. The ridge behind us was bold and high. When we climbed to the summit, we travelled some distance along the crest and found an excellent station for observations. Crossing a second ridge called Kalomainty, we descended into a green valley with a stream of water. At the north end of the valley the dried grass was blazing furiously, under the strong wind and it was not easy to avoid the flames. More than once our men had to run for it, and but for the hardness of their feet would have suffered from the hot ashes and stones on which they trod. Crossing a third ridge, we passed down a rocky valley and entered a piece of country, like an English park, well watered by the River Andránobé. All day the loneliness was most complete. Not a bird started from the brake, not an animal appeared in the wood. The silence was intense and Nature was here in complete wildness: for untold ages has she had her will: and calm, still beauty is the result. We had only one trouble, a plague of flies. We were followed by swarms of creatures with the look of a fly, but with the power of biting and stinging like a musquito. They settled everywhere, on the hands, the neck, the face: and unless soon driven off, inflicted an irritating bite. The men suffered from them as much as ourselves. Very strangely they disappeared at sunset and only a few followed us next day. It was just at sundown that we crossed the shoulder of a hill between two bends of the Andranobe, and encamped on its western arm under a fine wooded hill.

We pitched our tents upon a terrace which overhangs the stream: the men lit their fires, ten in number, on the sandy bed, where they resolved to sleep. And it added to the charm of our position, that as the moon rose full behind us the whole body of our bearers gathered together for evening prayers: sang with spirit their plaintive Malagasy hymns, said a hearty Amen to the words of the 91st Psalm: and cast themselves on the protection of that Saviour, to whom (they said explicitly) they have found it good to pray. Let none say that in this prosaic age, the days of romance have passed away. To me the simple realities of life often bring scenes as romantic as any which fiction can pourtray.

The following morning while the baggage was being packed, we breakfasted by the light of a brilliant moon, and recommenced our march. The men were in good spirits, though stiff after their al-fresco sleep. We soon traversed a natural park, full of beauty, spread out for miles, and waiting for a master. We again followed for a space the rocky valley of the Andranobe: and just at sunrise came upon the most charming scene which we had beheld in all our journey. We had reached the bottom of the hill country: and the plain of Ménaváva lay stretched before us away to the distant horizon. The River Ikopa was turning toward us from round a rocky hill four hundred yards broad, its bed for miles very rocky, a hundred green islands rising from its bosom, clothed with wood, while the rushing water fell in cataracts of foam over a reef of rocks which completely covered the stream. The cataracts reminded me of those of the River Máveligunga in the middle of the island of Ceylon. The islands, rocks and rapids were our companions for several miles, to Nosifito, where “seven islands” form a striking group in the river.

We now turned a little inland; crossed a small stream, the Andranobe-vava, and came upon a region of wild disorder. The gneiss strata were tilted perpendicular. Hills of quartz, gneiss, and clay were thrown up, made of broken fragments of primitive rock. The boulders were countless: the country was covered with them, and many were of enormous size. They were rounded, ground, water-worn: multitudes were half-buried in the clay. The reason was simple. We were travelling over the surface of the drift and debris of the higher districts. The present Ikopa indicates the line of valley down which for many ages the drainage of Imerina has poured; and we had reached the point at the bottom of the hills at which the material brought down by the waters has been deposited upon the plains. It was not the fact of that deposit which surprised us. It was the extent to which it had been carried. We saw that mighty forces had been at work; we saw the results of enormous floods, of the rending of barriers and outpouring of lakes, everywhere stamped upon this wide-spread scene of ruin. We were nearly four hours traversing it, in a hot sun: not a stream crossed our path, and our men suffered much from thirst.

At last we reached a beautiful glen, on the north edge of the drift, down which was flowing a stream of the purest water. The men were wild with delight; they just flung down their burdens; rushed pell-mell into the stream; and drank and bathed and revelled in the water. The fires were soon blazing and the cooking-pots well occupied. We did not need to hurry them, as we were near our destination: and a short run of five miles brought us to the town of Mevatanána, which we reached safe and well.

With Mevatanána, we were in the Sakalava country, and continued through it to the sea. This was the third principal section of our journey. We found it well-defined; the granite hills and their long spurs forming an inner boundary to its broad and fertile plains. It was everywhere beautifully green. Warm in climate, it gave us back the fan-palm, the tamarind, the mangoe and the plantain as strong, beautiful and fruitful trees. The grass was rich for the many herds of cattle: the enclosed basins and undulating plains seemed capable of producing roots, vegetables, rice and fruit. But the population is thin and scattered: the Sakalava villages consist of ten, fifteen, twenty houses; and they are few and far between. We found that there are twelve churches in the district; the six most important of these are in six towns, garrisoned by Hovas, all of which we visited except one. Only in one of these churches are there Sakalavas. That people have as yet scarcely been touched by the gospel: it is to the Hovas and their surroundings it is almost entirely confined. Everywhere we were heartily welcomed. The people had heard of our coming and had looked for us long. Presents were showered upon us, including oxen, turkeys, geese, fowls, eggs and milk: our congregations were very large: our men were happy.