THERE are a number of paths in the forest which may be followed from the sanatorium, north, east and south, and with a considerable variety of scene. But it is easy to get lost in them, for I remember one day when a party of us set out for a morning’s walk, but could not find our way back, although we often caught sight of the house; and it was late in the afternoon before we at length got home, very tired and very hungry. Two of our friends, who were well acquainted with the neighbourhood, were lost in paths not very far from the sanatorium, and had to spend the night in the woods, making as comfortable a resting-place as they could with leaves and bracken, but getting no sleep from the multitude of mosquitoes. And a curious circumstance was, that the Malagasy from the house, who came out to seek for them, were afraid either to shout out loud to them, or to show the lights they carried, for fear of offending the lòlo, or spirits, which they think haunt the woods. Had they done either of these things, our friends would probably have escaped being benighted. Happily, the time of this adventure was in the dry season, or it might have had serious consequences.

From what has been said in Chapters IV. and V. about the difficult paths through the chief forest, it is not strange that the Malagasy have considerable dread of it and do not share in our admiration of its beauties. So one of their proverbs says: “Roa lahy miditra ala: ka izy tokiko, ary izaho tokiny”—that is, “Two men entering the forest: it’s ‘He’s my confidence, and I am his’”; the fact is that both are afraid. It is to them the “dark forest,” full of mystery and fear, and it may easily be imagined that before any practicable roads were made through it, it had much to inspire dread. One of the native hymns, often sung when the natives have friends going away to a distance, prays for protection for them in the forest and also in crossing the rivers, on account of the many things in both which may injure the traveller.[14]

It would probably be a very serious matter for a European to be lost for long in a Madagascar forest, for he would be entirely at a loss for food, and would most likely be unable to produce fire to cook anything he could find. To a Malagasy, however, especially one living in the neighbourhood of the woods, it would not matter so much, as there are several species of yam, which he would easily find. These Ovinàla are climbing plants common in the forest, belonging to the genus Dioscorea, and have very large edible tubers, which are much sought after by the people; their taste is similar to other yams which are so largely used as food in other parts of the world. In Drury’s “Adventures,” he speaks frequently of procuring these yams in the south-western forests; for, living many years, as he did, like a native in that part of the island, he became well versed in woodcraft and could live as the people lived.

A European would be equally puzzled as to obtaining fire to cook his yams, were he so fortunate as to find any; but a forest-dwelling Malagasy could easily produce fire by friction. Choosing two pieces of a particular kind of wood, he would cut one to the shape of a round stick with a pointed end; the other he would make into a flatter piece, in which a slight groove is cut. Taking hold of the pointed stick, the operator twirls it first one way and then another, until the friction produces smoke and then fire, which is communicated to a little tinder placed close to the point. Gently blowing upon the spark which is produced, the tinder bursts into flame, the whole operation occupying only a few minutes. There are special words for this mode of obtaining fire: mamòsitra, which is also used for the boring of a hole by an insect, or a chameleon, to deposit its eggs; and miraingy, the pieces of wood being called raingy. But it may be feared that the universal use of Swedish matches will soon render this means of producing fire one of the lost arts.

To tend a fire is, in Malagasy, to misòrona àfo; and since misòrona also means “to exercise a priestly function,” it looks as if this word or phrase was a relic of ancient reverence for fire as a sacred thing, a feeling which is found in the customs and speech of many peoples.

In several directions there are beautiful waterfalls, to which a pleasant picnic excursion may be made. One of these is called “Tsi-màharé-rìtsoka,” which means, “Where a whisper cannot be heard,” for indeed, when near it, you must bawl as loud as you can to be heard at all; this fall is a succession of cascades, coming down from a considerable height. At another place a large body of water pours at one sweep over a great ledge of rock, perhaps thirty feet deep. And along the automobile road, only a few yards from it up a little valley leading into the main valley of the river Mandràka, we were fortunate one day to discover a most lovely waterfall of considerable height in the midst of dense wood, with a large pool of water at its foot, where a delightful bathe might be taken; an ideal place for a summer day. But the largest and grandest waterfall, and within a little over an hour’s walk from the sanatorium, is really an artificial one; for in making the automobile road to Tamatave along the Mandràka valley, the river was diverted from a circuitous course over a number of rapids, and brought by a short-cutting over a nearly sheer fall of about a hundred and fifty feet, where it pours down a magnificent body of water, with a roar and clouds of spray that wet everything for a long way round. The sides of the cutting are being rapidly covered with vegetation from the constant moisture, so that in a short time it will have all the effect of a natural fall. The noise is tremendous, and the fall can be seen from several points on the main road.

At the foot of the second of the waterfalls just mentioned I was fortunate enough to see a rather rare frog, which is peculiar to Madagascar. This little creature is only an inch long, as regards the body, but on that and its long hind legs there are semicircular patches of bright red on a black ground, so that it is very conspicuous (Mantella baroni) (see illustration). There is also a much larger frog, three inches in length, with hind legs quite six inches long (Rhacophoras albilabris); this species appears to be, in part at least, arboreal as well as aquatic, as its toes are furnished with little disks instead of claws (see illustration). He is, however, a giant compared with the majority of the frogs found in the island, which are not very different in colouring or size from the common English species. These creatures are very plentiful in the rice-fields, and as one walks along the vàlamparìa, or little banks separating the fields, the frogs jump off and “plop” into the water at every step one takes. In the early morning, after a rainy night, the noise of their croaking is very loud, almost deafening, as they apparently find the increased depth of water much to their liking.

From some small structural peculiarities, many of the Madagascar frogs have been arranged in a distinct genus, called Mantidactylus, and of this genus at least sixteen species have been described. Of the widely distributed genus Rana, one species, R. fasciata, is said by a careful observer to build a kind of nest. These frogs construct regular passages under the grass during the dry season; their paths are made as regularly as those of a mole, by the little creatures pressing down the short grass near the earth, and drawing together the longer blades, thus rendering them invisible. The nests are from eight to ten inches in diameter by four in height, and made ingeniously by weaving the layers of grass together. When frightened, these frogs throw out a limpid stream of water, which has been stored up in time of need, as in very dry weather, and which is distributed over the body, so as to keep the whole of it moist. The tree-frogs are very pretty little creatures, their light green colour exactly matching that of the leaves on which they live, so that it is difficult to detect their presence, except by close inspection. Their toes end in small disks, so as to adhere closely to the smooth surface of the leaves.

We have already seen that many of the living creatures of Madagascar gain great protection from enemies from the assimilation of their colour to that of their surroundings. This is the case also with many species of grasshopper and of mantis. You see an insect with bright scarlet wings flit by you and settle on a bush; wanting to observe it more closely, you try to find it, but it has disappeared, and not a vestige of bright colour is to be seen. Still, if you are patient and search carefully, you may presently see a mantis moving its head about in an uncanny fashion, and its fore legs held up in a mock devotional attitude, from which its specific name of Religiosa has been given it. But the scarlet wings are folded under its green wing-cases so as to be perfectly unseen, and these coverings are just like a leaf, the rest of its body being exactly the colour of its resting-place. In some of the grasshoppers, this mimicry of vegetable forms is still more wonderful. Here is one which resembles green grass, and its body, legs, wing-sheaths and antennæ are all as like grass as they can possibly be. But here again is another kind, whose body is equally imitative of dry grass, and so all parts of it are just like the stalks or the blades of yellowish-brown grass, dried up during the cold season. Even the eyes are imitative, and exactly resemble a small brown seed, such as many grasses bear.

There are many species of beetles to be seen, although none of them are very handsome or conspicuous. The most common kind is a broad flat insect, about an inch long and dull dark brown in colour, which crosses one’s path at every step. Another is seen chiefly on the bushes, a smaller insect, but bright shining jet-black. Another, which appears as if it mimicked a wasp in its habit of flight, is shot with brown and green, with very long legs, and is constantly taking short flights or running rapidly. Another one, but much more rare, has golden-green and metallic tints on its wing-cases. But the insect which has puzzled us most is one that I have seen on a large bush of Ròimémy, a plant with acacia-like leaves, with prickles along the leaf-stalks. This beetle is about five-eighths of an inch long, and almost hemispherical in shape. It is warm reddish-brown in colour, with a line of black and then of yellow next the head, and is perfectly flat below. These insects cluster closely, as thick as they can lie, in groups of from a dozen to more than a hundred together, all round the thicker stems, so that they look at a little distance like strings of large brown beads; and in some of the topmost branches they form a continuous mass for two or three feet. Amongst these shining brown insects are a few others of quite a different colour and shape, perfectly flat, like a minute tortoise, and of a uniform grey, exactly resembling the lichen on the bark of the tree, and the edges of the carapace scalloped. These grey insects are in the proportion of about one to forty or fifty of the darker coloured ones. There are also a few individuals of the same shape as the brown one, but yellowish-green in colour. What these grey insects can be, and what relation they bear to the much more numerous brown ones, I cannot make out.

Other insects, at first sight resembling beetles, are gaudily coloured. Yonder is a bush which is conspicuous from some little distance, from the quantity of insects clustered on it; they are about half-an-inch long, but are most brilliant with scarlet, blue and green. Be careful, however, how you handle them, for their scent is anything but agreeable; and, notwithstanding their gay colours, they are, after all, a species of bug. A beetle which I have often noticed in the woods is an insect an inch and a half long, but with a very long slender proboscis, with which it appears to pierce the bark of the stems on which it rests; I think it feeds on the juices of the bush or tree, and is probably a species of weevil (Eupholus sp?).

Mimicry, however, is not confined to Madagascar animals, but also occurs among plants. Mr Baron says: “In some marshy ground on the top of Ankàratra mountain, I found a small whitish orchid, a few specimens of which I gathered. After getting about half-a-dozen, I discovered, to my great surprise, that some of them were labiate plants. I was utterly deceived, thinking it was the same plant I was gathering all the time, so exactly alike were the two species in almost all outward appearances. I felt at once convinced that this was a case of mimicry. At the east foot of the mountain I discovered a similar phenomenon, in a large labiate plant (Salvia), strikingly similar to another orchid. No doubt the labiate in each case mimics the orchid, not vice versa, in order to ensure fertilisation.”

In one of our rambles near the large patch of old forest which still remains near the L.M.S. sanatorium at Ambàtovòry I came one day across a cluster of very large earthworms; at first sight these looked more like a number of small snakes than worms, as they were at least three times the size of any English worms, having about as large a diameter as a good-sized man’s finger. They are not, however, very common, as I have only seen them on that one occasion; so they probably do not play the same important part in the renewal of the soil here as Mr Darwin has shown is done by earthworms in Europe.

Anyone who walks through the forest will notice at points where the paths branch off a pile of bracken, branches of trees, moss, etc. These heaps, as well as those of stones in similar positions in the open country, are known as fànataovana. These have been formed by passers-by throwing a stick or stone on the heap, for luck, expressing the hope that, if on a journey, they may have a safe return, as well as success in their undertakings. A similar custom prevails in the eastern parts of Africa, and also in Sumatra and Timor, and probably in other countries as well.

A walk along the upper edge of the forest, although at some distance from Ankèramadìnika, will bring us to one of the native smelting and forging stations, where iron is obtained and made into pigs for the use of blacksmiths, as well as into various implements. Iron is very abundant in the interior of Madagascar, indeed the whole soil over an immense extent of it is reddened by iron oxide, and in some places there is so much magnetite that a compass is seriously deflected and is quite unreliable. At such a foundry one may see in use the “feather-bellows,” which the Malagasy brought with them from their far-off Malayan home, and which I believe is nowhere to be found but in Madagascar and Malaysia. This consists of two cylinders, about five feet long and six inches to eight inches wide, made from the trunks of trees hollowed out. These are made air-tight at the lower end and fixed in the earth in a vertical position, about eighteen inches to two feet apart. In each cylinder a hole is made a few inches from the ground, and in these a bamboo cane or an old musket-barrel is inserted, the other end being fixed into the stone or clay wall of the furnace. A piston with feather valves is fitted into each cylinder, and the shafts or piston-rods are worked up and down alternately by a boy or man seated on a board uniting the cylinders. In this way a continuous blast is produced in the furnace. (Such bellows are also used by blacksmiths.)

These foundries are always situated near a running stream of water, so that the ore may be washed and cleared as much as possible from earth and sand. The furnace itself is a hole about six feet in diameter and one or two feet deep; its walls are of rough stonework, built up three or four feet, and thickly plastered outside with clay. Charcoal is used in smelting and, notwithstanding these rude appliances and methods, the iron produced has been pronounced by competent judges to be of excellent quality. Spade-blades, knives, nails, bolts and many other articles are produced by the native smiths; and in the construction of the Memorial Churches, more than forty years ago, I had ornamental hinges, railings, finial crosses, and other requisite ironwork all excellently made and finished by Malagasy blacksmiths.

Several of the paths in the forest lead down into ravines of considerable depth and also of great beauty; the combinations of luxuriant foliage, rushing water and lichen-embroidered rocks, ferns and mosses are very varied, and one valley especially reminds one of the celebrated “Fairy Glen” in North Wales. But there are occasionally certain drawbacks even in this natural loveliness, for if you are not very careful you may find yourself attacked by the small leeches which lie in wait on the grass and bushes, and transfer themselves to you as you brush by them. Before you feel any annoyance, you may find yourself streaming with blood from the punctures made by these little pests, which have got under your clothing and are feeding at your expense. Happily, they do not cause any pain worth speaking of, nor are there any unpleasant after-effects, the only discomfort is the blood you lose and having it outside instead of inside your skin.

While staying near the upper forest we had frequently brought to us for sale a basketful of crayfish, which seems fairly plentiful in the streams. This species (Astacoides madagascariensis), with its genus, is endemic in Madagascar, and in the interior is of small size, averaging about three inches in length; the flavour, however, is excellent, and it makes a very good curry. In the south-east provinces, and probably in other coast districts as well, it attains larger dimensions than the above, being about six inches long. It is a curious fact that crustaceans are entirely absent in the African continent, and that the Madagascar species is much like the kind found in Australia, except that the latter is about twice the size of Astacoides.

There is a great variety of ferns to be found in every damp place in the valleys, from the minute hymenophyllums on the tree trunks to the larger species of Asplenium, Osmunda, Nephrodium and many others, up to the tree-ferns, of which there are about twenty different kinds, and which give a special charm to the vegetation in many places. On the eastern side of Madagascar the ferns occupy a prominent place in the flora, there being above two hundred species already known, and comprising no less than above thirteen per cent. of the whole flora of that region. Among the Filici are the beautiful gold ferns and silver ferns, the seed-vessels on the under side of the fronds having quite the effect of the two precious metals. The young leaves of a tree found in the forest (Eleocarpus sericeus), when dried and pressed, form the beautiful objects known as “gold leaves.”

A large number of the forest trees yield substances of commercial value. Two species of climbing plants afford india-rubber, one of the most valuable exports of the island. A tree called Nàto supplies a bark which is largely employed by the natives in dyeing the deep red used for their silk làmbas, especially those used to wrap the bodies of the dead. Other trees yield various gums and resins, one of these being the valuable gum-copal, of which quantities are exported. From several other trees tough fibres are obtained for the manufacture of cord and rope; while from a palm called Vònitra the “bass fibre” or piassava is taken, which is used for making brooms, brushes, etc. A shrub, a species of castor-oil plant, supplies seeds which are so full of oil or fat that they are strung on a reed like beads and are used to give light, so that it is called “the candle-nut tree.” When one end is lit, the seeds burn steadily, giving a light about equal to that of two good candles and leaving no ash. A very considerable number of trees and plants are employed in various ways by the Malagasy as medicine, both for internal and external use; and although the virtue of some of these may be imaginative only, there can be little doubt that in numbers of instances these native remedies are of value. Probably a careful examination of them would give some valuable additions to the pharmacopœia.

Among the forest trees is a considerable number which yield valuable timber, most of them hard and beautifully grained woods, which are employed for cabinet-work as well as in house carpentry. In the great palace at Antanànarìvo, the three central columns supporting the ridge of the roof are said to be each formed of the trunk of a single tree; the roof is a hundred and twenty feet high, and these pillars are sunk some way in the earth. One of these timber trees, called Vòambòana, is extensively used for making furniture—tables, sideboards, wardrobes, writing-desks, bookshelves, etc.—and resembles mahogany. Another tree called Hàrahàra has extremely hard wood, and is employed for the long spade handles, and formerly for spear shafts. One species of pine known as Hètatra, the only example of that order in the island, gives a hard white wood used for flooring; while ebony is procured from one or two endemic species of Diospyros; sandalwood is also reported to be found in certain localities.

It will easily be believed that the mysteriousness of the forest has produced many superstitious notions among the Malagasy, and they have curious stories of marvellous creatures and monsters inhabiting these dense woods. One of these is called Kinòly, and is said to be human in origin, for although it has no intestines or stomach, yet in all its other parts it is like a living person. Its eyes are red, and its nails long; and, with others of its kind, it is said to be constantly thieving, so that when anyone leaves out cooked rice or other food, it takes it. It is difficult, however, to reconcile such accounts with that of their bowelless condition; it is thought to be a great misfortune to meet a kinòly. Another strange creature is called Tòkan-tòngotra, or “Single foot,” because it is said to have only one fore and one hind leg! It is so exceedingly swift that no other creature has a chance of escaping it; it eats men and goes about at night. Still another strange beast is called Siòna, which has also, like the kinòly, something human about it. It is said to live away from men, and when anyone goes through the woods and leaves his rice, or his axe, these are taken by the siòna and conveyed to its abode. When the woodmen go to sleep and leave a fire still burning (for their custom is to leave a big log on the hearth, so that they may be kept warm), then this creature comes and warms itself. Possibly the habits of some of the larger lemurs have given rise to such stories, aided by a good deal of imagination; and the tòkan-tòngotra story probably comes from the herons or flamingoes, which have the habit of standing on one leg when asleep.

In passing along the forest paths we frequently come across examples of the curious ball-insect (Spherotherium sp.), of which there are several species, at least six, in Madagascar. These insects, which are wingless and many-footed, and are called, not very elegantly, by the Malagasy Tainkìntana, or “Star-droppings,” have the power of instantaneously rolling themselves into an almost perfect sphere, which form they retain as long as any danger threatens them, and no force short of pulling them to pieces can make them unroll. The animal is formed of nine or ten segments, each with a pair of legs and covered with a plate of armour; while the head and tail are defended by larger plates, each of which fits into the other and makes a more perfectly fitting suit of armour than was ever worn by medieval knight. There are several species of these pretty and curious creatures. The most common kind here is one which forms a ball barely an inch in diameter and shining black in colour. Another, more rarely seen in the interior open country, but common enough in the upper belt of forest, is of a beautiful brown colour like russia leather, and is quite double the size of the first-mentioned one. In passing through the main forest in 1892, we came suddenly one day to a part of the road which was so thickly covered by such a great number of these creatures that our bearers could not avoid trampling on them. These were of a bronze-green tint and belong to a third species, and were quite three inches in length. Other species of these Sphærotheria are found in Africa, Asia, Australia and some of the neighbouring islands.

Another many-footed and wingless creature is common enough in the upper forest, for we often found it on the upper verandah of the house at Andràngalòaka; this is a shining black millipede, about a foot in length, and half to three-quarters of an inch in thickness. It is called by the natives Kòdikòdy, and its numerous reddish legs, not far short of a thousand in number, have a curious effect of successive waves as it moves along. Although not very inviting in appearance, it is quite harmless and is a vegetable feeder. There is another species, which is marked longitudinally with black and red stripes.

More unpleasant by far is another many-legged creature, the centipede, whose sting is said to be exceedingly painful, resembling the puncture of a hot iron, and which is not uncommon in the interior as well as in the forest. The mere touch of its minute claws, if it happens to crawl over one, is said to produce pain and inflammation. I have turned small centipedes out of the hole in a window-sill where the bolt would fall; and I remember one morning, before getting out of bed, seeing a pretty large one marching across our bedroom floor. Happily these, which are among the few noxious creatures we have in Madagascar, are not very common. Another unpleasant visitor is the scorpion, which is rather apt to get into a house which has much stonework in the basement; we frequently killed small ones about an inch long at Antanànarìvo. Examples twice that size are found in the Vàvavàto district; while on the shores of Bèmbatòka Bay (N.W.Co.) scorpions five inches long occur, and Captain Owen says that they may be found, one or more, under almost every stone. He states a curious fact, if indeed it is one—viz. that the most destructive enemy to the scorpion is the common mouse.[15]