After scaling this ridge we came into the territory of Emir, the native region of the Hovas, in the midst of which the capital of the island is situated.
The territory of Emir consists of a lofty, splendid, elevated plateau, nearly four thousand feet above the level of the sea. Many isolated hills rise up from this plain; we pass no more forests, and, as the capital is approached, some amount of cultivation, in the shape of rice-fields, begins to appear. Where there were no rice-fields, the ground was covered with the short bitter grass of which I had noticed so much in Sumatra. Unfortunately, it is entirely useless, as the cattle will not eat it.
The district of Emir did not appear to be very populous; even in the neighborhood of the rice-fields I looked in vain for villages—perhaps they were hidden behind the hills.
In the few villages we passed I noticed that the houses were not built like those at Tamatavé, and in the wooded regions through which we had passed, of bamboo or timber, but of earth and clay. They are also loftier and more roomy, and have exceedingly high roofs, thatched very neatly with a sedgy grass that grows here in abundance beside all the rivers. But the internal arrangement is just the same. The house generally contains only one room; in very few is a small portion walled off by a partition of matting. Furniture is entirely wanting. The majority of the inhabitants of Madagascar possess nothing of the kind beyond a few straw mats with which they cover the bare floor, and a few pots of iron or clay wherein to cook rice. Nowhere did I see beds, or even wooden chests in which clothing or other articles could be kept. Certainly they do not feel the want of either of these conveniences, for they sleep on the floor, and their wardrobe generally consists of a single simbu, which they draw over their head at night. The most luxurious among them go so far as to cover themselves with one of the straw mats of their own plaiting. Nowhere else have I found such an entire want of all the comforts of life, except among the Indians of Oregon Territory, in North America.
Some of the little villages, and a few separate houses also, are surrounded with ramparts of earth, a custom originating in the times when the country was divided among a multitude of small tribes who were continually at war with one another. It has already been mentioned that the two great chiefs, Dianampoiene and Radama, put an end to these feuds by reducing most of the tribes beneath their dominion. A few miles from the village of Ambatomango, our resting-place for this evening, a great procession of men came to meet us, accompanied by military music. This was a kind of deputation sent by Prince Rakoto, the son of Queen Ranavola, and heir-apparent to the throne, to receive Mr. Lambert, and assure him of the prince’s respect and affection. The deputation consisted of twelve adherents of the prince, a number of officers and soldiers, and a complete troop of female singers.
The “adherents” of Rakoto, forty in number, are young noblemen who love and honor this prince so much that they have bound themselves by an oath to defend him in every danger to the last man. They all live near him, and in his expeditions he is always surrounded by at least half a dozen of these faithful followers, although he has no need of such a guard, as he is said to be much beloved by all the people, commons and nobles alike.
Mr. Lambert was received by this deputation with the honors usually accorded to a prince of the blood royal, a distinction which has never yet been shown to any of the high nobles, much less to a white man.
As often as our procession passed by a village, the whole community turned out to see the strangers. Many attached themselves to the train, so that it grew as it went, like an avalanche. The good people might well be astonished to see white men received with such honor, for the like had never been witnessed before.
In the village of Ambatomango, Mr. Lambert was surprised by a mark of affection on the part of Prince Rakoto. We found the prince’s only son, a little boy five years old, waiting for us. Prevented by the illness of the queen from coming himself to meet Mr. Lambert at Ambatomango, he had sent his child, which Mr. Lambert had adopted during his first stay at Tananariva.
The custom of adopting children prevails widely in Madagascar; in most cases this is done by the adopter for the sake of possessing a child, but in others it arises from the fact that the father of the child wishes to give the man who adopts it a striking proof of his friendship. The adoption is announced to the government, which, in a written document, accords to the second father full authority over the child. The infant receives the name of the adopted parent, is admitted into his family, and possesses every right enjoyed by his own children.