CHAPTER VIII.THE SIHANAKA PROVINCE AND PEOPLE.
TheSihanakaprovince, to which our steps were next directed, has hitherto borne an evil reputation as a hotbed of fever. But there were strong reasons which made it imperative for us to see the place and its people. Good work had been done there. The people needed a visit. Only one of the missionaries knew anything about them, the Rev. J. Pearse, now in England, and he had offered, with singular devotion and self-denial, to give up all the comfort of his settled ministry in Antanánarivo, and help “the sheep in the wilderness,” far distant from their brethren. For the satisfaction of his colleagues, for the satisfaction of the Directors, it was necessary that we should see his chosen field and give our judgment respecting it. At the last moment, we received a kind message from the Prime Minister, informing us that small-pox had broken out in the Sihánaka district; and though he left us at perfect liberty to proceed thither, he desired at least to warn us that we might be on our guard. We thanked him for his kindly caution, and assured him and the Queen that, though we felt obliged to pay the visit, we would watch with care over our men, and do our best to bringthem back in safety. Under God’s blessing we escaped all harm; and our fifty-four bearers and servants returned with us to the Capital strong and well.
We were to be absent three weeks. We carried with us one of the large tents; our portable beds, canteen, camera, surveying instruments, clothing and stores, with a good supply of Malagasy books: and our Camp formed a very compact and manageable body of men. The Rev. J. Sibree was our companion; and by his thorough knowledge of Malagasy and the readiness of his help, rendered us great service. Mr. Sibree is a practised surveyor; and in consequence we were able to secure on this journey a double set of observations for the mapping of the new country. On Wednesday, June 17th, we left the Capital for Ambohimanga, Mr. Sibree’s station, twelve miles across the plain, which we reached by five o’clock. The Queen and Court were still there, enjoying the quiet of this royal city: and before an hour had passed, one of the officers came down, to express on the part of all their good wishes for a safe and prosperous journey, and with kindly thoughtfulness to add a few comforts to our stores. Our men too found themselves among relatives and friends; and were so lost in rice and beef and general hospitality, that it was with difficulty we recovered them the following morning, in anything like proper time.
The first portion of our journey on Thursday led us into a fine cluster of villages and churches on the edge of the great northern moor, and three hours distant from Ambohimanga: and here our men rested for their morning meal. Resuming our road we soon left all population behind. The moor was high, bare and cold. It was nota level; but was scored into lines of low hills, the forms of which were full of beauty. We crossed the Zabo, the fountains of which we had seen among the round hills of Ambátovóry and Angavokely, many miles to the south-east: it has a strong, full stream of water and is one of the four chief tributaries which form the Betsiboka river. All day on these high lands the south-east wind blew hard and cold, and our poor bearers suffered greatly. At five o’clock we reached Ambatomainty, a village of twelve houses, but without house or chapel in which we could rest. Our tent was soon set up; and bravely stood the wild wind which blew all night. And when we were fairly enclosed, and the tea-table was duly arranged (on three overland trunks) we felt snug and comfortable.
On Friday morning a thick fog lay on the hills and we could scarcely see our road. When it lifted we saw on the east of the Ambatomainty ridge a long, unbroken valley coming from the moors on the south-east and going away north-west, full of rice, and drained by the Tsárasáhatra, which, like the Zabo, has its springs in the buttresses of Angavokely. At this point both rivers are small. Near by are two small villages, Mangatany with one of our churches; and Andrainarivo, with a Roman Catholic chapel. Then came three beautiful patches of wood; “Boulder Glen;” and a small stream with two cascades. High hills, covered with wood showed themselves to the east. After a journey of fifteen miles over a country thoroughly bare and unpeopled, we mounted a lofty hill, Ambóhitsitâkatra, which gave us a fine prospect on every side. We fixed its position, with ease, by bearings from seven of the principal hills of Imerina: and made it thestarting point of new positions to the north and west. On the west we had the deep valleys of Anátivólo: and the high hill of Vohiléna. On the south-east was the lofty cone of Ambóhitrakóholáhy, above the Beforona Wall: and to the east lay a great gneiss ridge covered with forest, which forms the western boundary of Ankay.
One interesting feature of our position was this. The gneiss hill on which we stood is on the watershed of the island: it forms part of the edge of the great granite moors, which go south to Angavokely: and beneath us on the east, was a broad basin, scored in all directions, a portion of that vast sedimentary clay region, which forms Ankay. It looked like network. This basin is drained by the river Mananára; it is enclosed between gneiss ridges: is full of rice fields and has a large cluster of villages. Early in the afternoon we reached the village of Anjozorobé; and took up our quarters in its neat chapel.
The place was wholly unknown to us. We had only its name in Grandidier’s map and on our list of native church stations. It proved a spot full of interest. The pastor of the church was a devoted, active worker; the school children were full of life and intelligence; and the congregation and its neighbours were striving to make progress in the knowledge and practice of their new faith. They gave us a warm welcome: and as they had not seen an Englishman’s face for five years, and entreated us to spend the Sabbath with them, we had no difficulty in so doing.
Saturday was a busy day. Mr. Sibree examined the school children. We visited together a high hill to the northward to take bearings: photographed the village and the ravine of the river; and attended to a large number ofpatients. The village is built on a high clay hill: it contains seventy houses with a population of less than four hundred souls; and the usual complement of fowls and pigs. The prospect from the chapel was very fine. To the north were high wooded hills. Beneath us to the west was the basin of the river, which wound through it with the most graceful bends: and the edges of the basin, and its numerous cuttings were curved with such beautiful lines, as made it certain that the place had been formed by running water, and was at one time a portion of a great lake. The river Mananára is here a hundred and fourteen feet wide, from two to five feet deep, and runs with a strong and rapid stream. It is crossed by a fixed bridge in two spans: each span being composed of three balks of timber of a scantling of eighteen inches by sixteen. We had seen the fountains of this fine river near Ambatomena: where they water one of the largest rice fields in all Imerina and feed some five thousand human beings. We found with interest that the population of this basin are closely connected with the people of Ambatomena and its neighbourhood.
We spent a delightful Sunday with them. At the outset came some twenty patients, suffering chiefly from chills and fever. The congregation was large for the place, and additions from distant villages kept coming in till near the close of the service: when the place was thoroughly filled with over three hundred people. Our “native chaplain,” who had helped us so much on the Itasy journey, preached the first sermon: then Mr. Sibree took for his text “God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son.” Very earnest and intelligent listenersdid the people prove. One could not look upon their devout demeanour, their clean dress, the self-respect manifest in the faces of both men and women, and hear the correct answers given by them to their instructor, without feeling what a powerful influence the gospel exercises, in elevating, controlling and sanctifying all life. For five years pastor and people have been left to themselves, to the teaching of the Spirit, the teaching of His Word: and this was the result. In the afternoon we all went over to Ambohiveloma a flourishing village two miles to the westward: and found another good congregation, with a number of intelligent and devout young men. Away to the south is the village of Antoby, where lives a good old blacksmith, who has been the means of drawing a large number of people to the Saviour. Both in the morning and afternoon Mr. Sibree and our chaplain taught the congregations two new hymns and tunes, which have just come out in the Capital and with which they were greatly delighted.
On Monday, June 22d, we resumed our journey early: and towards midday approached the great inner belt of forest, which occupies so conspicuous a position in the geography of the country. It forms the western boundary of Ankay; appears in wonderful loveliness at Angavo; and continues in unbroken grandeur, west of the Tanála, and as far south as Ambóndrombé. It is not forest alone; it is a great gneiss wall, running down the entire length of the country, the edge of the upper plateau of the island: and the forest clothes and beautifies it. Near its inner side we crossed the branches of the small river Manánta, another feeder of the Betsiboka, running north-west. Wecrossed the ridge by a noble pass, Ambárabáram-vato, the “gate of rock.” A climb of five hundred feet from the clay plain brought us to the summit, a narrow ledge, about three yards wide: from whence we had an extensive view over the Ankay plain, as well as over the basin we had just quitted and its continuation to the west. We found that the hill on which we stood had a second summit a short distance away, called Ambohimila. We took important observations, to fix the hill: and through all our trip, its two lofty peaks proved a conspicuous landmark to which other points might be referred. We descended by a natural staircase of huge granite blocks: then reached the clay, which was very wet and slippery; crossed a low clay ridge, covered with forest, through which our palankins with difficulty found a way; and at last came into a fine long valley, bordered with noble hills, whereon the forest seemed thicker, richer and more lovely than ever. The total descent from the crest of the hill was 1280 feet. It will be remembered that at Angavo (a point on the same wall further south), our ascent was 1206 feet. On the outer side of the wall we observed hundreds of rounded buttresses, with deep inlets between.
Though we had reached a comparative level and had rice fields around us, we looked in vain for a village, where our men might get their first meal. And it was two o’clock before we halted at a little cluster of twelve houses, significantly named Mandánavátsy, “get your tiffin.” To travellers coming from the Sihánaka territory, in the direction opposite to our own, it conveys the excellent advice, “Make a good meal before you go farther; you will find nothing to eat for hours.” We took the adviceon the way back. Having rested for two hours, we continued our journey; and winding round and through richly wooded hills, we came at sunset, to a clump of seven houses, called Ambatolampy, with a few others scattered about. In one or two huts, now deserted, there had been cases of small-pox, but the men carefully avoided them. Where they all found accommodation, I was afraid to enquire. I only know that our three servants slept somehow within the photograph tent,four feet square. We had the eleven feet for ourselves; and had it not been for the mosquitoes might have slept comfortably.
During the next two days we were still in Upper Ankay. In general the centre ridges were level; but the plain was deeply scored by the streams; the gullies having a bend to the north-west. Here and there were high hills, which we used as surveying stations: and from one of which we had a fine view of the east wall of Ankay and the valley of the Mangoro river. The head waters of that river were close to our hill. As we proceeded, we came upon one village and then another, peopled by the Sihánaka. The women were fair, and had necklaces and ornaments of beads and coral: both men and women had numerous strands or plaits in their hair. These villages smelt badly of the native rum: the little sheds which contained the stills were very conspicuous; and the ground was strewn with shreds of the sugar cane from which the rum is made. One little stream we crossed, with its edging of wood was called Sahamaitso, “green valley”; pretty indeed, but very different in size and beauty from the Green River of Colorado. Another, with a fine curve, was the Ranofotsy, “white river,” flowing over clean sand.Near the village of Mangatány, we passed through a grove of myrtle trees; and we found abundance of chlorite and chlorite earth, from whence the village is named. We were now close to the east wall of Ankay, and turning up a narrow defile, crossed by a beautiful reef of pure milk-quartz, we climbed 750 feet to the top of a noble hill of red clay, called Ambohiborona, “bird hill.” The hill made an admirable station: it towered high over the country round, and gave us our first clear view of the Sihanaka district. It stretched northward for nearly forty miles. The high ridges on the east; the low hills and gullies of Ankay; the dark green forest line which bounded them; the lighter, softer green of the reed swamps to the north; the long fingers that came and dipped into the swamps and were lost; the dark hills on the northern horizon; and the blue lake of Alaotra at their feet:—these were the objects on which we gazed long from that lofty tower. This was the country which we had travelled far to see. Descending the hill, we crossed in succession three ridges with their intervening levels: had our first experience of the swamps for which the district is famous: saw how the swampy levels are being recovered and employed for rice fields: and at last, after a hard day’s work, mounting a low hill, beheld beneath us the goal for which we had aimed. In a few minutes we were deposited, by our bearers, in their best style, at the door of the beautiful chapel ofAmbatondrazaka, the capital of the Sihanaka district.
Having sent in to the governor our letters of introduction, we were speedily invited to pay him a visit. We were duly carried in state by our men, and passing throughthe gates of the double stockade, were set down at the door of the government house. Entering the lower hall, we found the governor seated in the middle of the room; while his officers were behind him, and a goodly number of common people, (exercising doubtless an old tribal right), placed themselves on his right hand. In front three chairs were placed for us. The governor whose name is Ra-tsi-mihára, and who is an officer of 12 Honours, received us cordially; and after we were seated, addressed us, according to custom, in the following manner: “Since you, our friends and Englishmen, have come from the Capital, we ask of you, How is Queen Ranaválona, the sovereign of the land? How is Ráinilaiarivóny, the Prime Minister, protector of the kingdom? How is our venerable father, Rainingory? How is Rainimáharávo, chief secretary of state? How is Rabe, his son? How are the princes, the relations of the Queen? How are the great people? How is the kingdom of Ambohimánga and of Antanánarivo? How are the ‘under heaven,’ the people? How are you, our friends? And how is your fatigue after your journey?” To these inquiries, after a pause, Mr. Sibree gravely replied seriatim: informing the governor, that the Queen was well: the Prime Minister was well; the kingdom was well; that we were well, though we were fatigued: and so on. He then inquired in turn, how the governor was, and the town and the people, and things in general in the Sihanaka district. He also described the purpose of our journey; informed him of our visits to the churches in other parts of Madagascar: and specially inquired about the small-pox epidemic. We learned that it had prevailed, but by a careful isolation of the patients, had been stamped out:and no new case had occurred in the town for three weeks past. Every evening every house in the town was visited by one of the officers to inquire into the health of the inmates.
The governor then took us by the hand and led us back to our quarters: and dinner being ready, we invited him to share it with us. He readily sat down and in due time emphatically declared that pancakes and English jam were excellent food. After tea, surrounded by his officers and by the people of the town, he presented us with a number of geese and fowls, several baskets of rice, and an unwilling pig, who did not see why he should be sacrificed in the cause of Sihánaka hospitality, and vociferously protested against the proceedings. A formal speech was made on the occasion; the things being presented in the Queen’s name: to which we made a formal and grateful reply. The pig was handed over to the men, with the baskets of rice; and while they disposed of him at their leisure, we took possession of our airy room, and enjoyed a sound and healthy rest.
Thursday proved a busy and pleasant day. We paid numerous visits to the various quarters of the town; examined the market; held consultations with the pastor of the church; and examined the scholars he had gathered in the school. Thus we learned a great deal respecting the district, the town we were visiting, and the progress of the Christian congregations which it contains. We found an excellent observing station and took a few photographs.
Ambatondrazakais a good town of four hundred houses, and a population of two thousand souls. It isbuilt on the side of a peninsula or ridge running up from the great ridges on the south-east: and it overlooks a fine bay in these hills from which a great rice-harvest had only recently been carried away. A broad road coming down the crest of the ridge divides the town into nearly equal parts. In the centre of the town and east of the road stands the rova or fortress occupied by the Hova governor and his garrison. This rova is laid out with great regularity: its large well-built houses are all in line; the streets are broad and clean; and each house forms a block with a road on every side. The whole is surrounded by a double stockade; and between the two fences is a space of thirty feet. The governor’s house, or lápá, is in the north-east division of the town, and has a stockade of its own: it is a house of two stories, with verandahs round it, and looks large and comfortable, even among the substantial buildings by which it is surrounded. In old Malagasy fashion, all these houses are built of wood.
Outside the rova are a large number of houses, built of clay, wood or reeds, with large enclosures of clay or reed for the great cattle-herds with which the district abounds. The people in these houses looked squalid and poor: pigs were abundant, and the streets were dirty. The Chapel, however, on the west of the road, and opposite the rova, is a handsome building, a copy of its mother church at Analakely in the Capital. It is built of clay; is ninety feet long by thirty-six broad; and has doors, windows and pulpit all well made. The walls are white-washed; and the floor was covered from end to end with fine mats, carefully sewn together. We heard with much pleasure that, before the outbreak of small-pox, this fine building wasusually filled at the Sunday morning service. In a town like this our bearers soon found friends; as retailers of the latest news from the Capital, with which the soldiers of the garrison are connected by a thousand ties, they were everywhere welcome, and without difficulty made themselves at home.
To us the market looked small, though deemed by the inhabitants and their country neighbours an important place. We found in it fine banánas (always an acceptable addition to our table, especially when fried); our men purchased the enormous sugar canes, ten and twelve feet high; and there was for sale a quantity of small dried fish brought from the east coast. While we were taking observations and photographs from a neighbouring slope, the transactions of the market were brought to a complete stand-still. Buyers and sellers all turned to look on. Our instruments were watched with interest and wonder; and our bearers were called in to explain their magical and mysterious uses. But the cattle, always in a state of excitement on market days, began frisking and capering about; and at length commenced a general stampede down the town with half the population at their heels. In the evening we dined with the governor: but before we sat down he presented us with a bullock, that had been duly killed and cut up for ourselves and our people. After a brief speech and our formal reply, we summoned our bearers to carry it away. The governor’s dinner was excellent, consisting of soup, curry, roast turkey, coffee and abundance of fresh milk. On returning to our rest-house, we found our bearers seated in a line on the top of the wall, intently watching the small mound of beef, whichthey were eager to divide. They were soon made happy and carried their happiness far into the night; singing over their beef and stimulated by stronger waters than the swamps usually supply.
Christian work has prospered in Ambátondrazáka. Here, as in other places, the Hova Christians from Imerina, thrown on their own resources, have steadfastly maintained their hold on the Gospel. They keep the Sabbath: they maintain public worship, having two services a-day; they have an appointed pastor; they send their children to school. Here, as elsewhere, we saw a few copies of the new Bible; several teachers have been sent to the country churches; and even grown people have learned to read. It was specially pleasant to us to find that the young pastor of the church, Andríamáhaléo, was not a Hova, from a distance, but was an Antsihánaka, a native of the province. Though in early days his people had been refused permission to learn to read or write, as a boy, quick and shrewd, he had secretly taught himself to do both. Being employed in the office of the Governor, he had observed the form given to words, which he knew to have been inscribed on the public letters: he compared the inscription on one letter with that on another: and arguing back from known meanings and known sounds, he learned to identify those sounds with the written symbols. He became a Christian: he picked up knowledge; and he became so well acquainted with the Sihánaka customs and laws, that he was appointed one of the judges of the province. He proved also an excellent expounder of the Scriptures, and the church invited him to be their pastor. “I am not wise,” he said; “I wish toknow more of the Word of God myself; but they said I was able to teach them; and I do my best.”
Having taken farewell of the Governor, on Friday morning we commenced our tour round the southern and western sides of the Sihánaka province. All the centre of the province is under water and is occupied by the great reed swamps, or by the deeper waters of the Aláotra Lake. The population has settled on the roots of the hills by which the basin is surrounded. For two hours and a half we proceeded westward along the edge of the hills or crossed one or two narrow arms of the swamp on frail plank bridges, and then reached the prosperous village of Ambóhidéhiláhy. The village contains a hundred and fifty houses, and is situated on the end of a long clay promontory. The chapel is a simple building, made of reeds; but we found a new and much larger one, at its side, in course of erection, of substantial clay bricks and solid timber-roof. The good people gave us a hearty welcome, in the middle of the village. They placed before us abundance of beef, poultry, eggs and baskets of rice; and with the usual inquiries after the authorities and ourselves and the usual words of welcome, begged our acceptance of their present.
While our midday meal was preparing, we went into the chapel, which we found full of people, and very gladly gave them a service. As elsewhere during this journey, Mr. Sibree kindly acted as our spokesman, and gave them the instruction they desired. It was pleasant, yet it was painful, to see the eager look on the faces of the many respectable women, the bright young men and the intelligent children, who had been waiting for us two or threehours. We heard many of them read, examined them as to their knowledge of the Scriptures; and when they had sung a hymn, Mr. Sibree gave them an address, dwelling on the prime truths of Christianity, especially those connected with the Lord Jesus Christ himself. Ill do those understand Christian missionaries, who imagine that in instructing simple converts like these, we dwell on the outside questions of denominational organisation and worship. It is the Lord himself whom they need. It is the Lord alone who can satisfy their soul’s hunger and who does satisfy it, when once they find Him. The more simply, the more completely, we bring them to Him, and bring Him to them, the more truly is our work accomplished. We want not to make proselytes: we want these ignorant wanderers to become Christians.
We observed that the house in which we dined was unusually large and substantial: and Mr. Sibree kindly pointed out to us those peculiarities, which proved it to be fashioned not after the Hova system, but after that of the Betsimisárakas. The Hova house has one post at each end and one in the centre: it has one door and one window on the west side; the bed-stead is fixed in the north-east corner; and the hearth is in the north-west corner, with a two-storied frame, covered with soot, on which the cooking pots are usually laid. Our present house had three well carved posts in the centre and at each end: the west side of the house had two doors; there was a window in the north-east, the bed-stead was in the south-east, and the fire and the saucepan-frame were in the south-west: the floor was nicely covered with very fine mats. We saw many such houses in the province:and in them all is still preserved the traditionary use of wood. Even in the Capital, the erection of brick houses, within the city-proper, only dates back a few years.
Having taken a few observations, we proceeded ten miles to the southward, in order to round the great swamp, which was now on our right hand and impassable except by strong canoes. We crossed in succession the ends of the ridges over which we had passed two days before, and had conspicuous before us our noble observing hill, Ambohiborona. The little rivers between the ridges were shallow and sandy. Under Ambohiborona we came to the village of Manákambahiny, where a little congregation awaited us, and offered us their welcome and a present. Beyond this village we got into one of the arms of the swamp; and now saw what noble reeds grow in it. The zozóro papyrus, with its triangular stalk was very fine and very tall: the flathérenaalso grew luxuriantly: the colour of both was a rich, strong green. Our journey ended at the village of Ambódinónoka, on the northern edge of Ankay.
Here a curious scene took place. The elders of the village, with a fine old judge at their head, had made their little speech; had thanked their “friends over the sea” for sending us to visit them; and had offered us their hospitable present; but none of our bearers were at hand; and when we called them to take the beef and rice away, they declined to come. On inquiry we found that they were in the sulks and were holding an indignation-meeting, to protest against the ill treatment they were suffering at our hands. Asking for particulars, we were informed that they had two grievances; first, three days ago, we hadcontinued our journey a whole quarter of an hour after sunset; (we had not reached the village;) and secondly, we had publicly reproved them to-day, because they had taken up the geese offered as presents. We replied that we were astonished at their impudence; that they had greatly disgraced us to-day, by greedily seizing the birds and the rice, even before the hospitable people had formally offered them to ourselves. They might sulk if they pleased; we should give them no beef or rice this evening; we should give the whole of it to the poor of the village: which we did. A moderate supper at their own expense, followed by a placid night, restored their moral tone; and the next day, they did a good day’s work with energy and spirit. What a petulant set of children they were!
On Saturday our journey was long; we started very early and were nine hours and a half in the palankin. Again and again we went down into the swamps; crossed a river with a curious name, “that which a girl cannot pass”; came close under the western hills of Ankay, covered with forest; and enjoyed a pleasant midday rest at the fine village of Ambohitromby, or “ox-town.” The swamp was difficult to traverse to-day. Thezozorowas very tall, strong and green: theherena, with its flat blade, was often six feet long: and thevia, the beautiful Arum lily, theAstrapœa Wallichi, with its huge well-crimped leaves, was here in abundance. We had also a few rofia palms. At times the ground was lumpy; then we had swamp; then soft clay; we went round the edge of the reedy forest or forced our way through it. Now some men stuck fast with the luggage, then others. One spot was all but impassable. The water was deep: the men beatdown the stalks of the reeds; and staggered over the slippery bridge as they best could. In another there was a single plank; and our palankins were carried over with but one man at each end: the firmness and steadiness with which they moved forward were wonderful: and we all passed without accident.
This great swamp covers altogether an area of over six hundred square miles: It has many arms running up into the hills on every side: and on its north-east side is the clear lake of Alaotra. It lies at the north end of Ankay; and receives the drainage of a vast district on the south-east: the hills in that direction are peculiarly sandy and friable: waterspouts and storms have wrought havoc among them, and all the silt has been carried into the Sihánaka level. The only exit for the waters is on the north-east: and here the ravine is narrow and rocks bar the way. The waters are retained at a high level; and the sediment washed down is buried beneath them. Long tongues and fingers of clay project into the reed-covered reservoir; and a few hills stand out like islands in the deep green sea. Imerina must once have been what this great province now is: it has still the remains of the ancient swamps and forests of reeds. And Imerina is now, what in due time the Sihánaka will become, a magnificent rice plain, with its rivers embanked and bridged, with smiling villages on every side, feeding myriads of Christian people, living in peace.
Ambohitromby is a good village of ninety houses, on a round hill: with abundance of geese and fowls; and having large herds of cattle in its neighbourhood. We had a most pleasant meeting with its people. The little chapelwas crowded and many present were Sihánaka. Again we examined all the scholars, and Mr. Sibree gave the people an address. We were objects of great curiosity to them all, but especially to the women, who had probably never seen an Englishman before.
We now had a long journey before us: but it was for the most part on level ground. We were travelling north, on the main ridge of the district on its west side; and to-day we got over many miles of ground. At times we went through inlets of the swamp which separated the ridges from one another: and then found ourselves on a broad level terrace, along which the men raced and ran with great speed. Parallel to us on the east was another level ridge, running into the swamp from the north-north-west. A large portion of the low level between has been redeemed from the swamp and is being cultivated with rice. Villages were seen here and there with chapels; on the grassy level the cattle were numerous; and the little stacks of rice stood in long lines on the open plain. Close by on the west were great gneiss hills covered with forest: away to the north was the volcanic mass, which overhangs the town of Ampárafárávóla; and across the swamp to the eastward were the red clay ridges, made golden in the warm light of the afternoon sun. It was one of the most pleasant trips we had made in the country.
Late in the afternoon we came to an inlet, which gave passage to a small river flowing from the western hills, and was filled as usual with the zozóro reeds. Across the inlet on the north, was a steep red hill, which had on its summit the old walled village of Ambóhipéno. We noticed that there was a group of people looking for us onthe top of the hill: the choir of women was on the east; the school children were on the west, and the elders of the town stood in the centre. As we commenced the ascent of the hill the women and children began to sing: and when we reached the top, the old judge of the district, a man of hearty, genial temper, came forward and shook us warmly by the hand. Recognising us as “messengers of the churches over the sea,” and as “friends of the kingdom,” he gave us a hearty welcome and as usual presented us with some provision for the way. We stayed a few minutes talking with these kind people; and as we could not remain to spend the Sabbath, we promised to return for the afternoon service. They kindly sent our presents on, and after another hour’s run, we arrived just after sunset at Ampárafárávola.
This Hova town is the place of second importance in the Sihánaka province, and is the residence of the Second Commander or Lieutenant Governor. It contains over ninety houses; all included within a double stockade, and not having the order, neatness and finish of the Hova town at Ambátondrazáka. There are many Sihánaka houses scattered about the neighbourhood; and little villages of such we had passed in the rice fields just before our arrival. The Lieut.-Governor and his people all came out to welcome us: they made the usual kind speeches and enquiries: presented us with abundance of beef, fowls and rice, for ourselves and our men; and then expressed serious concern as to our quarters for the night. The governor’s own house was being rebuilt: and the large new chapel outside the stockade, though unfinished, wasin possethe most comfortable place of shelter. It had a good roof andsolid walls: but the doors and windows were only partitions of reeds. However we erected the tent inside the chapel at one end: fastened the tent carpets over two of the windows; and though, like the cave of Æolus, the place was somewhat draughty, and the mosquitoes were numerous and active, we made ourselves considerably comfortable. How sweet the sleep, even in rough quarters, after those long and weary journeys in the dry, fresh air.
We spent a delightful Sunday with those good people, and saw for ourselves more of the religious life of the district than we had yet done. As soon as the building was in order the congregation assembled. On the rough little table belonging to the church we placed my camera-box; and spread over all a gay, if not gorgeous, rug belonging to Mr. Pillans: it excited great admiration and was thought on all sides to have added dignity to the occasion, henceforth memorable in this town, when three English Missionaries were present at the service. The slaves of several families now brought in the hassocks and cushions, on which the ladies were to sit: and as soon as the governor and his family entered, the place was well filled. We thought there were nearly five hundred people present, of whom a good proportion were Sihánaka. They sang tolerably well: but the tunes had become greatly altered by interpolations, deductions and shakes, and we could only just recognise them. Our chaplain preached the first sermon: and Mr. Sibree the second, both choosing the same text: “This is a faithful saying: that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners.” I added a brief address in English (the sound of which greatly interestedthe people), which was interpreted by Mr. Sibree. We all had but one theme: and the attention manifested throughout our two hours’ service, was gratifying in the extreme. Subsequently Mr. Sibree gathered the singers, gave them some good advice about their singing, and taught them the new tunes which we had brought with us. They took to them most heartily. They sang in the chapel: then they removed to the school-room; with the help of the chaplain they practised all the evening: deep into the night we heard voices proclaiming in Malagasy, “There is a happy land, far, far away”: and as the sun rose the next morning and we set out on our journey once more, the last echoes of the same melody died upon our ears.
One thing greatly struck me during the afternoon service. After a sermon by our chaplain from the well-selected text, “God be merciful to me a sinner,” the native pastor of the church, took the congregation through their catechism. This was the highest catechism containing, I believe, over a hundred questions. As he put the questions one by one, the entire congregation answered. The governor, and the governor’s wife; the officers old and young; the women and the female slaves; the young men, boys, girls; the Sihánaka as well as the Hovas, all answered clearly and correctly. These people had been carefully taught. Far away from Englishmen, receiving but indirectly life and stimulus from the churches of their brethren in Imerina, dependent entirely upon one another and upon native teaching, these people were keeping the Sabbath, were maintaining in an orderly manner public worship, and all were being well instructed in the faith,from the sole fountain of the Word of God. Has not that word been glorified among them?—The same afternoon Mr. Sibree and Mr. Pillans went over to Ambohipeno, where the people had received us so kindly yesterday afternoon. They found the chapel full and had a congregation of four hundred people, who most attentively listened to the addresses which they gave.
We had invited the governor to dine with us: but he preferred and pressed that we should dine with him. His officers and family were most kind. While we were dining the choir sang hymns; the singing having been substituted for the customary honour of the band playing during an entertainment. An hour or two later the governor came over to take a quiet cup of tea with us, and talk about the religious wants of the town and district. He heartily seconded the proposal made in Ambátondrazáka, that the whole province should be placed in the hands of one or two English missionaries, and that teachers and pastors should be trained on the spot for the instruction of the native congregations. He wanted some arrangement made for the regular supply and sale of Bibles. He asked whether our friends in England would not kindly supply them also with a few sets of simple Communion Services, which cannot be made or bought in Madagascar.
We all took a great liking for this excellent Christian man. He was so simple, so child-like in his spirit, and so truly affectionate and kind, that our hearts warmed to him, and we felt anxious to do all we can for the help of himself and his people. His name is Andríamamónjy. He has not been to the Capital for twelve years, during which all the great improvements have been introducedthere: but though isolated he has learned much: and he is truly anxious for the enlightenment and improvement of the people around him. We assured him of the deep interest that would henceforth be felt in the province; and we hoped that an English missionary would come and reside there. Here as elsewhere we gave books to the teacher of the school, the pastor and others: we found that the school has seventy scholars and there are twenty-five who can read.
Mr. Sibree relates in his Journal a curious incident which happened in this town two years ago, to two students of the College in Antanánarivo, who visited the place on their way to Mojangá. Among various perplexities on religious matters which troubled the minds of the people, this was one:—
“The people enquired, ‘When it is Sunday and the water in the house happens to be all used, is it right to fetch a little from the spring?’ We replied, ‘That is a matter one cannot lay down a rule for, but we think you should ask of your neighbours.’ ‘Our neighbours,’ said they, ‘are just in the same plight as ourselves. And then when strangers happen to come on Saturday evening and there is not water enough, what is to be done?’ ‘Does that often happen that it troubles you so?’ said we. ‘It is often the case,’ the people replied, ‘or we should not be concerned about it.’ So we bade them do as follows: We told them to buy three big water-pots, and every Saturday evening have them filled, so that those whose water was expended on Sunday, or had strangers come unexpectedly, might take from them what they wanted. And these three big pots are to be called ‘Charity water-pots’(Sini-ben’ ny fiantrana); to all which they cheerfully agreed, and appointed three men to be superintendents of these water-pots, both as to filling them and giving out supplies; and here are the names of the superintendents.” Had we remembered the incident we should have certainly asked for a sight of the “Charity water-pots,” and enquired how the arrangement worked.
We saw our kind friend the governor once more on Monday morning; and having said farewell to him and his family, at nine o’clock we continued our journey to the north. After taking a few observations, we noticed with interest that the lofty hill one mile north of the town is volcanic: it is part of an old crater: large portions of one side have been broken away; but abundance of lava is strewn on and around it over a wide space. This is the only specimen of volcanic action we have found in all the district. The line of that action lies in general farther west. And the nearest volcanic hills are on the north-west shoulder of the island, in the island of Nosibe and the great hills opposite to it on the mainland.
Bounding the volcano to the eastward, we came into the level bay between the main hills and the promontory outside. We passed four small villages, crossed a stream running south by which the western hills and this level are drained, and close to a spur of the promontory, came to a large village, Móraráno, with seventy houses, and a little neighbour, Marafotsy, with thirty more. We next climbed the promontory itself, which was to be our road for many miles: and from a high point on the ridge had a beautiful view of the district. On another lofty hill, having a single thorn tree, we found an excellent station,which we named One Tree Hill. We had long since left all population behind. We saw not a house for several hours. Indeed we saw neither house nor people from Móraráno to our resting-place. The fact is very significant, and shows the two directions from a common point in which the province has been peopled. Our men and ourselves took the refreshment we had brought with us on the hill-side; and then pressed forward to our destination. We descended into the swamp once more, crossed two of its north-western arms; then rounded the corner of the province, kept under its northern hills, over a grassy plain, full of cattle; and at four o’clock reached the village of Ambóhijánaháry.
It was the poorest place we had yet seen, and looked dirty and unkempt in every way. They told us it had recently been burned down: a great calamity in a country and to a people where the accumulation of capital goes on so slowly. The calamity alas! is of frequent occurrence in these country towns and is natural. The houses are built of wood and reeds, and are thatched with leaves or straw. The kitchen fire inside and the hot sun without dry up every particle of moisture from these substances and turn them into huge tinder-boxes: while the people are extremely careless about fire. As Earl Russell justly said about the cities of Japan: “If people build their cities of bamboos and brown paper, can they wonder if they are burned down?”
There were one hundred and six houses in the town. It stands on a spur of the northern hills; and is surrounded by hedges of the Euphorbia Cactus, which have grown to an enormous size. The Cactus arms were thick and tall,and the pears on them were very large. It was difficult work, to pass along the lane unharmed, and still more difficult to get the palankins and baggage through the gate of hanging poles, by which entrance to the town is guarded.
We had now reached the north end of the province and our road lay along the face of the hills, which form its northern boundary. These hills are not a single chain; but are the ends of several chains all having the same general trend from about north-west to south-east, and corresponding to similar ridges at the other end of the district.
It was with difficulty we got our men together the next day, to resume our journey. There was a reason for it in their own minds: but the silly fellows would not tell it out, or offer to us those explanations which they had gained from private talk with the householders around them. In the face of the vexation caused by their dogged resistance we went on to Ambóhitsára, “the beautiful place,” the dirtiest village we had yet visited, a stage lower in the material and social scale than Ambohizánaháry. It stands on the edge of a swampy plain: the soil is spongy; the houses squalid; the chapel was a little reed house, the play-room of the village children: there was mist all round; and rain began to fall. Altogether there was an accumulation of “creditable circumstances,” rare in these Madagascar journeys, sufficient to test one’s good spirits and the power of looking on the bright side of things.
The good people offered us rather a damp welcome: and it was evident that in general intelligence they were somewhat behind the age. The elder who was their spokesman,after inquiring about the health of the Queen, and the officers in the Capital; and gradually localising his interest in the health of the Governor at Ambátondrazáka, and the Lieut.-Governor at Ampárafáravóla, concluded by asking how the gun was, which guards the stockade of the latter town. This gun is a little thing on large wheels, a one-pounder, cast by M. Laborde in former days in the factory at Mantasoa. The Malagasy are still in that early stage of social intelligence, which believes strongly in guns, and rather overlooks the importance of having brave hearts to manage them. In former days, in these formal interviews with strangers or with Government officers, the people frequently inquired after the guns. This was the only occasion, however, on which the inquiry was addressed to ourselves. I am afraid that the general depression seriously interfered with the reply of our friend Mr. Sibree. The dignity and fulness, with which he usually dwelt upon the affairs of the kingdom and the health of the authorities, and the flowery elegance with which he would describe the purpose of our visit, entirely failed him here. His reply was brief and guarded; and the gun he passed over in total silence.
We were anxious to cross the Alaotra lake this afternoon, so as to reach Ambátondrazáka to-morrow evening and hold a service with the people. We inquired therefore eagerly after the canoes which were necessary. There was an evident reluctance about the people, which we could not understand; but with which our bearers sided: all were anxious that we should stay for the night. However we got them together and went down to the water. Not a boat was visible: so we spent an hour on the shore,admiring the loveliness of the view before us. Meanwhile the east wind blew strong over the lake, as it usually does in the afternoon; the lumpy water, in solid waves, came tumbling in at our feet: and the conviction grew that, with shallow, cranky canoes, laden with baggage and more than fifty human lives, the passage across the lake in such a wind and sea, was utterly unsafe. The people knew the fact well: the proper time to cross is the early morning before the wind rises: but why had they not the moral courage to tell us plainly?
The mists had disappeared; the afternoon was bright; and the entire province in all its strangeness lay before us. We took a few observations, which proved to be of unusual value, and quietly settled down for the night in Ambohitsára. The chapel was a poor place to stay in; it was indeed “an airy habitation and a name.” But the tents provided sleeping quarters, and we bore the reeking atmosphere and the cold winds as we best could.
On Wednesday morning at seven we crossed the lake in smooth water. A dozen canoes had been brought for us; of which several were good boats, over thirty feet long and four feet wide, hollowed from a single tree. The morning was bright and the sail across was delightful. We landed at Ambohitsoa, just where an arm of the lake runs in to the eastern hills. And when we stood at the top of the bank, and looked around, the view was simply enchanting. The lake stretched far away to the southward, its waters of a clear, delicate blue; to the north its many arms ran in among the purple hills; the green swamp with its dense forest of tall, shapely reeds, lay to the west: the headlands were dotted with villages, each with its little church: themountains lay behind us, crowned with dark woods: and over all was the clear azure of an unclouded sky. As we stood silently contemplating this vast and varied picture, we thought we had beheld no fairer scene in all Madagascar than the landscape at our feet.
Three miles away toward the south, and on the road home again, was the village of Márosalázana, a neat, clean place of fifty houses. Our visit had been expected, and made quite a gala day among the kind and simple people of this retired corner of the world. Some four hundred had assembled, dressed in their best. And in the centre of the village, on a raised platform, sat all the scholars ready to be examined. Their dresses and ornaments were quite a study. The Hova girls had the smooth hair and braided bands, common in Imerina. The Sihánaka women and girls had their hair in numerous plaited strands: they wore numerous chains round the neck, with coins and medals; they had also bracelets and armlets: and their dresses were chiefly of blue “Pondicherry cloth.” It was a pleasure to look on their bright, happy faces, and see the keen, inquiring looks with which they scanned our dress and faces, and noted everything we said and did. The elder of the village, a venerable and genial old man, at once came forward with the people and bade us welcome. After the usual inquiries and presents, which included some enormous sugar canes, he spoke of the object of our visit, told us of the wants of the churches and schools; and expressed on the part of all their thanks and their joy in the prospect of having Mr. Pearse to live among them.
Mr. Sibree then examined the scholars; and they seemedproud to exhibit their attainments and the efforts they had made to get on. They read from their school books and the New Testament: answered readily questions from the Catechism and sang to us several hymns. Their teacher had been diligent and faithful; and it was a pleasure specially to recognise the earnestness with which, unknown to men, he had been doing his appointed work. This was one of the most pleasant opportunities and interviews we had enjoyed with the Sihánaka people: and it proved to be the last. The impressions which it left can never be effaced.
All over the Sihánaka country we had noticed the singular manner in which the people erect memorials of the dead. They take the thin poles of thevintánatree, fix them firmly in the ground, and under the high fork of the tree they fasten a number of cattle-skulls and one or more tin boxes, baskets or mats. The latter articles were the property of the deceased: the skulls belonged to the cattle slaughtered at his decease. The relics are placed there, doubtless, according to the usual custom of the Malay tribes, best known to Englishmen from the North American Indians, under the idea that they will be useful to the deceased in the world to which he has gone. In the tombs of the nobles throughout Imerina, and especially in those of the royal family, the amount of property laid up in former days was very great. Forty years ago, on the death of one of our scholars, a young noble, his books, slate, pencils and copy books were placed with him in his tomb. Christianity, the great teacher of common sense, will soon change all that. Outside Márosalázana we found a larger group of these memorial poles than we had found anywhereelse. There were twenty-four in all in six rows of four each: and we thought that the village had been named from them.
Close to Márosalázana and at the end of the ridge on which it is built, stands the old fortress and town of Ambóhitrandriana, “Prince’s town.” It occupies the end of the bluff, and overhangs the waters of the lake which guard it on three sides. Deep fosses have been cut around the top, especially on the land side, with a view to render it impregnable. Only five of the Sihánaka hills have been fortified in this way. A recognition of all the circumstances of the province and the manners of the people produced the conviction that the Sihánaka province has been colonised from the east coast, and that its inhabitants are an offshoot of the Betsimisáraka tribe. Their houses are Betsimisáraka; their dress, their ornaments, the plaits of their hair, the necklaces of their women, are all from the same quarter. As a people they stand almost entirely alone. On the south lies the province of Ankay, the only district easily accessible: but all the northern part of Ankay is uninhabited; its population are Tanála and Bezanozano, working from the south: and their villages have not yet reached the large district without inhabitants through which we ourselves had passed. Access to the province on the west, east and north is barred off by the great mountains. In the north-east is the valley of the Maningory river, the outlet of the Lake Waters. It is evident that some pioneers, ascending this valley from the sea-coast near Fenoarivo, discovered the great plain, saw the rich soil, appreciated its capabilities, and invited their friends. The largest number of villages is still in thisnorth-eastern corner, around the head of the lake. From this point they spread southward along the level shores on its east side: they founded the town of Ambatondrazáka: and still pressing on have rounded the south end of the swamps and turned northward again along the western shore. Other colonists have passed along the northern end of the waters and the two streams have not yet met, completed the circle, and filled the land. If this view be a sound one, no better place can have been chosen for their first town, and a safe dwelling for their chief, than the lofty bluff of Ambóhitrandrian. To this day they hold constant intercourse with the coast by the valley of the Maningory. But if they be Betsimisárakas, how came they to change their name? They did so for a simple but sufficient reason, derived from their new position. The wordhánakais an old Malagasy word for “lake:”sihánakadenotes many lakes and pools of water. The colonists appropriately gave this name to their new home; and for themselves they becameAntsihánaka, “Lakers,” “the Betsimisárakas of the Lakes.”
Here they remained for many generations, an isolated people; independent indeed, but ignorant, superstitious, given to charms and magic and witchcraft, and greatly addicted to drink. A hundred years ago, the great ruler of Imerina, Impoin, the man with the ambitious mind and the strong hand, cast his eyes on the territory. What he planned and partly secured, in 1823, his son Radáma completed: and though the Sihánaka resisted, he conquered the land and made it his own. The last stand of the people was made on the island of Anosizánaka under the northern hills. It was not taken without hard fighting.To get at the island, Radáma placed his cannon and people on rafts. The rain fell in torrents: the muskets and guns, were useless; and the first attack failed. Some of the soldiers fled and, according to the prevailing custom, the leader in the flight was burned. A second effort proved successful. Like other tribes, notably the Bezanozano, the Sihánaka have paid a heavy price to the conqueror. Until recent years, when they felt the power of the gospel, the Hovas were hard taskmasters. And no one is more truly conscious of the great wrongs they have done to various parts of the country, or more truly anxious to repair the injustice now, than the able Minister who is the head of the nation in the present day.
Christianity however is the best friend of the Sihánaka; and it is working among them with power. It is moderating the rule and the demands of their governors. It is uniting the two races together. It is strengthening the order, the security, the peace in which the people live. Everywhere the fortressed hills are deserted for the open plain. Police are little needed. Property is secure. The great cattle-herds roam over the grassy hills, almost without attendants.
The gospel was brought to them by their own countrymen; and it is almost entirely by native agency and by the native churches that it has been since sustained. Seven years ago some of the Christian officers and soldiers of the garrison in Ambátondrazáka applied to their minister, the Rev. R. G. Hartley, for a teacher. A young man, named Rábé, who was teacher of their day-school, was selected by Mr. Hartley’s people for the purpose. He was a slave, but they purchased his freedom; and for threeyears he did the people in the province good service; greatly assisted by the young Sihánaka, who is pastor at the present time. In 1869 they were visited by Mr. Pearse. In the same year the great stimulus which sprang from the burning of the idols reached them. And they have derived continual benefit from the growth and improvement of the Hova churches in Imerina, whence officers and soldiers with their families continually go and come.
Would we know what the gospel has already done for them, let us look at the picture drawn of them by their teacher, Rábé, when he first arrived among them. At that time, he says,—
“Only a person here and there could be found who washed their clothes; for everyone’s dress was smeared with castor oil, and they thought it would spoil their clothing to wash them, as they would be soon worn out; so that the clothing of the people was offensive to the last degree. For that reason the dark blue cotton was generally worn, as it was nearly black to begin with. But now there is hardly anyone who does not wash his clothes, and has not white dress. Not long ago, when it was evening, the young men in the villages used to form into two parties, and had violent boxing-matches all through the village, the women also often joining in the fray. But now no one practises this rough sport. Not long ago, rum was what the people chiefly delighted in; and if any strangers who visited them were not made thoroughly drunk, the owner of the house was looked upon as inhospitable, although he gave them the best of everything to eat. One day I, with five others, happened to be staying at a certain village, andthe people of the house in which we stayed, brought thirty bottles of rum and a small water-pot half full for us to drink together with the family. And although we reproved them, it was with difficulty we prevented them from drinking, until they saw we were really in earnest. And this is but a sample of the love of the people for drink. So that at night there was great disturbance everywhere from drunken people. But now there is nothing of that kind, for if anyone is seen drunk by his companions he is exceedingly ashamed; and those who still like excess drink in secret, for everyone now knows the folly of it. And what has brought about such a change but the spreading of the Word of God?”
There are now thirty-one churches in the Sihánaka province; and in a few years, judging from the villages we saw, the number will be increased. Of the strength of their principle and the vitality of their piety we saw abundant proofs. Left to themselves they keep holy the Sabbath; they maintain public worship; they have chosen pastors for their instruction; they pay teachers for educating their children. From small beginnings they have grown numerous and strong. The grace of God which has helped their brethren, which has helped converts in other lands, has strengthened and upheld them. Their family life has grown purer, the great vice of drinking has vastly diminished: the soiled clothes are replaced by clean dress. Order, peace, fellowship and good will prevail among them. And the root of all this regeneration and revival is the simple Gospel of Christ.
They will gain greatly by the proposed residence among them of their friend Mr. Pearse and a younger colleague.The Christian women too will greatly benefit by the advice and example of one or two English ladies in their midst. The work of a wise Englishman in these young communities, is to shorten processes of growth, to remove difficulties, to warn against errors, to expound the Scriptures more fully, to organise efficient agencies, especially schools; to stimulate by his example and his higher knowledge; and in other ways to bring the power, the experience, and the resources of a higher Christian civilisation to bear upon the elevation and improvement of these children in the faith. The willingness of these converts, the earnestness with which they have kept their faith, and their longing for more light and higher life, indicate that our friends have before them a noble prospect of usefulness.
Judging from our survey and the map resulting from it, the Sihánaka province, within its bordering ranges, covers a space of about two thousand square miles. It is a vast basin in the midst of these hills, having a clear lake and a great reedy swamp in the centre. The levels, redeemed for rice culture and pasturage, and the dry ridges above them, form but a limited portion of the whole. The Alaotra lake lies nearer to the eastern than the western shore: it is hammer-headed in shape, and has a length of thirty-two miles, with a breadth of four or five. The reed swamps, with their numerous arms cover a space of over six hundred square miles.
The population of the province we estimated at forty thousand people. We counted some sixty villages and small towns in the district, of which only three have more than six hundred inhabitants.
The day following our pleasant visit to Márosalázana and its bright scholars, we reached Ambatondrazáka once more. Most reluctantly we quitted our kind friend the governor and his people to plunge once more into the wilderness. But time was pressing; we explained the case to our bearers, stimulated them by the offer of a day’s pay; and they bore us vigorously over the rough hills. More than ever we admired the soft, rich foliage of the forest; we climbed the lofty “Gate of rock,” and rested for another quiet Sunday at Anjozórobe. Again we traversed the basin of the Mánanára; crossed over the granite moors; had a pic-nic tiffin in “Boulder Glen”; and slept in peace in the handsome church of Ambohitrérena. The next day, July 7th, at noon, we reached the capital, glad and grateful for the wonders we had seen.