MADAGASCAR AND AFRICA
It is probable that the mammalia of Madagascar are now fairly well known, although a few of the smallest species may still await discovery; and the following summary may be here given of their divisions and numbers—excluding the bats, of which there are seventeen species, ninety species of terrestrial mammals have been classified and described, and of the following orders:—Lemuroida, thirty-nine species; Carnivora, almost all being civets and quite small animals, ten species; Insectivora, including shrews and small creatures resembling hedgehogs, twenty-four species; Rodentia, rats and mice, sixteen species; and Ungulata, one or two species of river-hog. It will be seen that about two-fifths of the mammalian fauna belong to the lemurs, and that with very few exceptions, all the others are small and inconspicuous animals; many, however, are of exceptional interest, as we shall see. From a consideration of the facts regarding the mammals, as well as those of the other forms of animal life found here—birds, reptiles and insects—the following conclusions may be drawn: First, Madagascar was anciently joined to Africa, receiving its fauna from the continent, whose animal life was then much like that of Madagascar at the present time; but it had also certain connections at an early geological epoch with Asia and even with South America, as there are undoubted affinities between its fauna and those of these distant regions. Secondly, this African connection of Madagascar existed before the abundant animal life of the continent entered it from the north, and when Africa was a great continental island—that is, its central and southern portions, and separated from Europe and Asia by a shallow sea, now the Sahara Desert. The upheaval of that sea-bottom was probably to some extent contemporaneous with the subsidence of the land which is now the Mozambique Channel. Thirdly, Madagascar must have remained for a long period separated from every other part of the globe; and while the western and southern portions have been repeatedly submerged, the highland interior, of palæozoic rocks, is very ancient land, and much of its fauna is also antique in its character.
But to leave this zoological dissertation and return to our journey. I have not mentioned that more than once we saw small companies of lemurs high over our heads, leaping with wonderful agility from branch to branch, and uttering their peculiar cry. These cries could often be heard when the animals were not seen, and sounded almost like the cry of children; and to myself there was always something pleasant in it, as that of living creatures rejoicing in their freedom in these boundless forests.
THE BED OF A GREAT LAKE
On Saturday morning I wished Mr Plant good-bye and set off, leaving him at the village, which he was to make his head-quarters for some time while collecting natural history specimens in the forest. The road was not nearly so difficult as on the previous day, so that I had no need to alight from the palanquin all the way to Ampàsimpòtsy, where I stayed to breakfast. The hills were much more moderate in height, with a good deal of open clearing, although the forest still continued on either hand, but not in those dense masses of wood through which we had passed the last three or four days. Leaving our halting-place at noon, we gradually got clear of the woods, and early in the afternoon ascended a very high hill, from which we could see a great distance both westward and eastward. Behind us were the hills and valleys covered with forest through which we had travelled, while in front stretched a great undulating plain, bare and almost without a tree, except in a few places, where there were large circular patches of wood. This was the plain of Ankay, which separates the two belts of forest, and is the home of the Bezànozàno tribe. Beyond this again, ten or twelve miles away, was the upper forest, clothing the slopes and summits of the edge of the interior highland. Careful examination of this region has shown that it was formerly the bed of a great lake, from two to three hundred miles long, extending from the present Lake Alaotra, farther north, and is its gradually diminishing remnant. Subsequent action of water has, however, so cut up its former level that it now presents a very uneven surface.
It was dull travelling alone after the pleasant companionship of a fellow-traveller; and in making arrangements for meals, etc., I felt how perfectly helpless a man is when he cannot speak so as to be understood. I was a barbarian to my men, and they were barbarians to me; for my stock of Malagasy words was very limited, and probably almost unintelligible as to pronunciation, so that I was at a complete standstill for nearly everything I wanted to say. We reached Mòramànga, a rather large village, at the commencement of the plain, soon after three in the afternoon and there halted for the rest of the day. This place was a military post of the Hova government, and on passing through passports were examined by the officer in charge.
Next morning we were stirring early and left Mòramànga while it was yet dusk. There was a thick mist, and my men were shivering with the cold, for we were now two thousand nine hundred feet above the sea, and their scanty clothing was but a poor protection. For an hour or two we saw little except for a few yards around us; but as the sun rose the fog rolled up like a vast curtain, revealing the line of the Ifòdy and Angàvo hills straight before us; the slopes were partly covered with trees, but a good deal of their surface was brown and bare. In the deepest of the many valleys which cut the surface of the Ankay plain runs a beautiful and rapid river, the Mangòro, about one hundred and fifty feet wide where we crossed it in canoes. This is the longest river of the east coast, and would make a fine means of access to the interior, were its course not interrupted by rapids and cataracts at many points.
Soon after crossing the river we commenced the ascent of Ifòdy, a very steep and difficult path, for an hour or more; but as we mounted higher and higher a glorious prospect gradually revealed itself. Looking back after we had reached the summit, there was the Mòramànga plain, bounded by the distant forest stretching away north and south, until lost in the dim distance, while below us the Mangòro could be seen in a wavy blue line in the Ankay plain. Before us, to the left, was a lovely valley, fertile and green with rice-fields, watered by the Valàla river and shut in by the Angàvo range of mountains, while on the right was a confused mass of hills, looking like a mighty sea which had suddenly been hardened and fixed in its tossings.
AN EXTRAORDINARY NEST
There was much more evidence of cultivation as we proceeded, the valleys being occupied by rice-fields, which were kept covered with a few inches of water by careful irrigation. Among the bird population of Madagascar there are some eighteen species of herons and storks which are seen in the marshes and rice-fields. One of the most noticeable of these is the Tàkatra or tufted umber, a long-legged stork with a large plume or crest. It builds an extraordinarily large nest, which is visible at a considerable distance and might be taken at first sight for half-a-load of hay. It is usually placed on the fork of a large tree, and is composed of sticks and grass, plastered inside with a thick lining of mud. It is from four and a half to six feet in diameter, dome-shaped, with a lateral entrance, and is divided into three chambers, in one of which its two large eggs are laid. The entrance is by a narrow tunnel and is always placed so as to be difficult of access, though the nest itself may be quite easy to approach. From this conspicuous nest, and the sedate way in which the tàkatra marches about seeking for its food, many native superstitions have gathered about the bird, one of which is that those who destroy its nest will become lepers. If the sovereign’s path was crossed by a tàkatra, it was considered unlucky to proceed, and the royal procession had to retrace its steps. Many native proverbs also refer to this bird. There are also two other species of stork, one of which is always found together with other shore birds; it lives in companies of from six to twelve individuals at river-mouths, feeding on crustacea and mulluscs, from which habit comes its name of Famàkiakòra or “shell-breaker.”