CROCODILES
The shores of the river are exceedingly pretty, although there was nothing grand or striking. They are flat, but beautifully wooded, the great bàraràta grass, with its light grey feathery head of flowers, giving quite a character to the scenery. Islands are numerous, some being mere sand-banks, but many covered with trees and bush. We soon made acquaintance with the crocodiles, for there was one basking in the sunshine on a sand-bank just opposite our starting-place. We saw a good many of them during the day, although not as many as other travellers have observed, perhaps from twenty to thirty, and some of them quite near enough to be seen very distinctly. Most of them were light grey in colour, but others slaty, and others again spotted with black; they varied in length from seven or eight to fourteen or fifteen feet. The head is small, and the back and tail serrated like a great pit-saw. They were generally lying with the jaws wide open, and sometimes were near enough to be splashed by the paddles as we passed them. The heat on the river was much less than when travelling on the land, or at Mèvatanàna; a delightful breeze blew against us all day, and we enjoyed the change immensely.
The banks of the river, which was from half to three-quarters of a mile wide, were only a few feet above the water, and from them flew numbers of birds. Among these were many with which we were familiar in the interior—the pure white lesser egret, varieties of heron, purple kingfishers, wild ducks and wild geese, and many others. The Railòvy or fork-tailed shrike is one of the most widely distributed birds of the island, and is very active and an excellent singer. Perched on a dead branch, it keeps up a constant noise, its strong voice giving forth several notes, which very much resemble that of an organ. In the spots frequented by a large number of these shrikes, each one reserves to itself a hunting-ground, in which according to M. Pollen, he tolerates the presence of no other birds, even of his own kind, not excepting those stronger than himself. It is dark bluish-green in colour, with a long tail, forked at the extremity. These western woods are fairly full of singing birds, especially in the hot season, which was coming on at the time of our journey. Among these are three species of fly-catcher, one of which is called the “changeable,” from the remarkable changes of colour it undergoes according to its age and sex. The female bird is entirely of reddish-brown, except the cap and nape, which are dark green. The young male has during the first month the same livery as the female, but its plumage soon changes to a beautiful maroon red; then very soon the two middle tail feathers become greatly lengthened, the quills being black with a white fringe; the wing coverts become partly black and partly white; and the feathers of the head change to dark green, with brilliant metallic reflections. At the breeding-time the back and throat take the same tints as the head, and the belly and breast become white.
TAMARIND-TREES
We stopped for lunch at a low rising ground, a few feet above the water, at a grove of Madìro or tamarind-trees, and under one of these we spread our meal. It was a magnificent tree, shapely and rounded in outline like a great oak or chestnut, the branches spreading over a circle of a hundred feet in diameter and touching the ground. The foliage was then rather thin, the leaves being minute, like those of a mimosa, and the ground was strewed with them, as well as with the pods of the fruit. Most of these were dry and worthless, but we got many fresh enough to eat, and their acid dark red pulp was very refreshing. Mr Baron believes the tamarind-tree to be truly indigenous to Madagascar, but only in the western region, which he thinks forms its original home. The seeds were, and probably still are, employed in the sikìdy, or divination; and a decoction from the leaves as a medicine.
About an hour after leaving our stopping-place we came to the junction with the Bétsibòka, the latter being strongly coloured with red clay from North Imèrina. What impressed us most this afternoon was the total absence of population on the banks of this large river, and it appeared strange that immense tracts of such apparently fertile country should be uninhabited; it was different from the crowded villages along the Màtitànana and Mànanàra and other rivers in South-east Madagascar. In the afternoon the beautiful fan-palm became very plentiful, growing in extensive groves and mingled with the other trees. Stopping for the night by a sand-bank, we made the canoe fast to a stake and proceeded to put up the tents. Although dry and pleasant for a floor, the sand had the disadvantage of giving bad holding-ground for the tent-pegs, and, had not the fresh breeze died away at sunset, a very slight gust would have brought down the whole concern over our heads.
THE AGY-TREE
We might congratulate ourselves in not coming across, in short rambles among the trees, a tree which caused no small discomfort to some of our missionary friends in this very locality. Mr Montgomery thus describes his experiences. He says:
“Walking under some trees and pushing aside the reeds and grass, I was startled, in a moment, by a sudden tingling and pricking sensation over the back of my hands and fingers, for never had come the like to me, in Madagascar or elsewhere. I stopped in sudden surprise, for the pain was severe, and I had touched nothing except the grass. But in another moment the pain increased, the tingling burning sensation seemed extending rapidly up my wrists, and I could see nothing to cause it. But as I lowered my head to look, pain, scalding pain, shot into my ears and neck, growing worse, too, every instant. Dazed and bewildered, I stood a few seconds in helplessness, for I could neither see nor guess at the cause of the terrible distress. Then I got back to my company with agony writ plain enough on every line of my face.
“The men started up when they saw me, some of them crying out, ‘You have been stung by the agy.’ Some of them led me to a seat, others rushed for water from the river, and two or three brought sand heaped up in their hands. Then they chafed me with the sand and water to take out the stinging hairs, which they knew caused the mischief. As they rubbed me, I felt the pain abate, and after about a quarter of an hour’s continuance of the operation I was comparatively free from pain. While the men were rubbing me, I was able to discern to some extent the cause of my distress. Countless hairs, like tiny arrows, almost transparent, pointed at either end, and from a third to a fourth of an inch long, had dropped down on me in an invisible shower from the agy-tree, as I passed and stood under it. Ere I came away that afternoon, very cautiously I ventured to examine the tree at a little distance, and found that these tiny hairs grew outside a thickish pod or shell, not quite so large as a small banana. These pods were fully ripe (unluckily for me) just at that very time, and the light wind was scattering their covering.”