CHAPTER V
FROM COAST TO CAPITAL: ALAMAZAOTRA TO ANTANÀNARÌVO
ON the Friday morning we left Béfòrona soon after five o’clock and for nearly four hours were passing through the forest, here known as that of Alamazaotra, over the highest hills and the most difficult paths we had yet seen. Certainly this day’s journey was the most fatiguing of any on the whole route, so that when we reached our halting-place I was thoroughly exhausted and glad to throw myself on the floor and sleep for an hour or more. At one part of the road there is a long slope of clay, known as “Fitomanìanòmby,” or “weeping-place of the bullocks,” so called from the labour and difficulty with which the poor animals mount the steep ascent on their way down to the coast. In coming down this and similar places the utmost care was necessary on the part of the bearers; but they were very surefooted and patient and took every precaution to carry their burden safely. In ascending we often required the help of all eight men to drag the palanquin up to the top. The villages in the heart of these vast woods are few and far between. Our halting-place for breakfast consisted merely of three or four woodcutters’ huts in a few square yards of cleared ground.
Our afternoon’s work was much the same as that of the morning. In many places the rain had made a perfect slough of thick mud, and our men had hard work to get through. I could not cease to wonder how my heavy luggage was brought along. For a considerable distance our way lay along a most romantic-looking stream, whose course was broken by great masses and shelves of rock, reminding me of Welsh river scenery. Often in the higher parts of the road, where the rivers down in the gorges were hidden by the dense masses of wood, we could hear the roar of waters in the otherwise profound stillness of the forest. At the chief pass in this chain of hills we passed a tremendous cliff of rock, which rises sheer out of the valley to a height (so it has been ascertained) of nearly two thousand feet, certainly one of the grandest natural objects I had ever seen. This stupendous mass is called Andrìambàvibé, “Great Princess”; the large trees on the summit looked like mere bushes seen from below.
LUXURIANT FOLIAGE
Notwithstanding the fatigue of the journey, it was impossible not to be struck with admiration and delight at the grandeur of the vegetation. The profusion and luxuriance of vegetable life were very extraordinary. There appeared to be few trees of great girth of trunk, but their height was considerable, especially in the valleys. High over all the other trees shot up the tall trunks of many varieties of palms, with their graceful crowns of feathery leaves. A dense undergrowth of shrubs, tree-ferns, and dwarf palms made in many places quite a green twilight; while overhead the branches were interlaced and bound together by countless creeping and climbing plants, whose rope-like tendrils crossed in all directions and made a labyrinth which it was impossible to pass through. Occasionally we came across large trees in flower, giving a glorious mass of colour. With these exceptions, however, flowers were comparatively few; and during subsequent journeys I have found that it is true in Madagascar what Dr Alfred R. Wallace has pointed out as characteristic of all tropical countries—viz. that in the tropics are not to be found great masses of floral colour. For these one must go to the temperate zones; foliage, overpowering in its luxuriance and endless variety, is indeed to be found in the tropics, but not the large extent of colour given by heather, buttercups, primroses, or a field of poppies in England.
The orchids, however, were very abundant. Wherever a fallen tree hung across the path, there they found a lodging-place, and beautified the decaying trunks with their exquisite waxy flowers of pink and white. Although what has just been said of wild flowers is true on the whole, there were a considerable number to be seen, if carefully looked for. My bearers soon perceived how interested I was in observing their novel and curious forms, and brought to me all the different varieties they could find, so that in the evening my palanquin contained a collection of flowers and plants gathered during the day. I managed to dry a few, but the greater part had to be thrown away, as I had no means of preserving them to take up to the capital.
In some parts of the woods the different species of bamboo give quite a distinct character to the vistas. Some of them shoot up in one long slender jointed stem, with fringes of delicate leaves, and hang over the paths like enormous whips. Another kind, a climbing species, with stems no thicker than a quill, clothes the lower trees with a dense mantle of pale green drapery. As we got into the higher and cooler parts of the forest, numbers of the trees had long pendent masses of feathery grey lichen, a species of Usnea, giving them quite a venerable appearance, and reminding me of the opening lines of Longfellow’s “Evangeline”:
“This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic,