“I was travelling one day to Ambòhimandròso; the day had been very hot, and passing by a dirty pool, one of my bearers stooped down and drank with his hands and then hastily followed to carry the palanquin. I saw the man drink and presently, hearing sounds behind, I turned and discovered that the very man, who only a few minutes before had drunk the water, was now in agonies of pain. He stood stretching out both his arms and throwing back his head in a frantic manner, at the same time shrieking most hideously. My first thoughts were speedily seconded by the words of his companions, who said, ‘He has swallowed a tsingàla.’ Of course, I immediately got down and went back to the poor fellow. He was now lying on the ground and writhing in agony, and I felt that unless something could be done, and that speedily, the man must die. My other bearers, seeing the extreme urgency of the case, called to the passers-by, but none could render any assistance. Presently a Bétsiléo was appealed to, and he said that he knew what would cure him, but wanted to know how much money we would give. I said immediately that it was no time for bargaining, but that I would give him sixpence if he relieved the poor man from his sufferings. Off he ran to procure some leaves, with which he returned in about ten minutes; he soaked them in water from a stream close by, and then gave the sufferer the infusion to drink. With almost the quickness of a flash of lightning the poor fellow showed signs of relief, and after drinking this infusion several times more he said that he was free from pain, but felt very weak and faint. It was some weeks before the man got thoroughly strong again.”
No one can pass along the little narrow banks and paths which divide the rice-fields without noticing the large dragonflies which dart over the water. Their colours are very various. A rich crimson, steely-blue and old gold are some of these. They are voracious creatures, as their name implies, and I saw one, one day, deliberately, and audibly, crunching up a smaller one. At another time, however, I noticed a fair-sized one being devoured by a spider, which was barred with lines like a zebra.
MARSHES
The marshes in Imèrina are not useless to the people, for a variety of useful plants grow there and are also planted in them. Among these are the Hèrana, a sedge which grows to three or four feet in height, and is extensively used for thatching native houses. If the roof is a proper pitch this sedge is very durable, and when cut and trimmed has a very neat appearance. Then there is the Zozòro, a much taller sedge, closely allied to the papyrus, with a triangular stem, and a feathery head of flowers. The strong tough peel is used to make the excellent mats employed for flooring, and also all sorts and sizes of baskets; the pith is used for stuffing pillows and mattresses; and the stems firmly fixed together are used for temporary doors and window shutters, and for beds. A rush, called Hàzondràno, is employed for making baskets and mats.
As the colder weather advances, the mornings are often foggy, at least a thick white mist covers the plains and valleys soon after the sun rises and remains for an hour or two until his increasing power disperses it. Seen from the higher grounds and from the most elevated parts of the capital, this mist often presents a very beautiful appearance; a billowy sea of vapour is brilliantly lit up by the sunlight, and out of this sea the hill-tops rise up like islands. But these misty mornings also reveal many things which cannot be seen, or can only be seen by very close observation, in clear sunshine, especially the webs of various species of spider. There they are all the time, but we are not aware of their presence except on a misty autumn or winter morning, when a very delicate thread and filmy net is marked out by minute drops of moisture which reveal all their wonderful beauty of structure. Many kinds of bush are seen to be almost covered by geometrical webs: one species seems to choose the extremities of the branches of the sòngosòngo Euphorbia, but the most common is a web averaging five or six inches in diameter which is spread horizontally on tufts of grass, and may be seen by thousands, half-a-dozen or so in a square yard. This web has a funnel-shaped hole near the centre, with a little shaft leading down to the ground. Near this, the maker and tenant of the structure—a little greyish-brown spider about half-an-inch long—may often be found, if carefully searched for. As the sun gains power, these numerous webs become almost invisible, but before the moisture is all dried from them, they present a beautiful appearance in the sunshine, for they are exactly like the most delicate gauze, studded with numberless small diamonds, flashing with all the prismatic colours as we pass by and catch the light at varying angles.
SPIDERS
The most conspicuous of the many species of spider seen in Madagascar is a large Nephila, a creature about an inch and a half long, with a spread of legs six or seven inches in diameter. It is handsomely marked with red and yellow, and may be noticed by scores in the centre of its geometric web stretching across the branches of trees. From the considerable distances spanned by the main guys and supports of its great net, this spider is called by the Malagasy Mampìta-hàdy, or “fosse-crosser”; and these main lines are strong enough to entangle small birds, for at the mission station at Ambàtoharànana a cardinal-bird and a kingfisher were both caught in these nets. The male spider is only about a quarter the size of the female as just described, and, sad to say, he frequently is caught and devoured by his affectionate spouse, after mating. Attempts have been made, and with some success, to employ the silk made by this spider in the manufacture of a woven fabric; but it is very doubtful whether such silk could be procured in such quantities as to be of commercial value.
BUTTERFLIES AND MOTHS
Silk from the silkworm moth is produced to a considerable extent, and, as we have seen in speaking of native weaving, is employed in manufacturing a variety of handsome làmbas. The moth is a large and beautiful insect, with shades of buff and brown and yellow, and with a large eye-like spot on the hind wings. The caterpillars are fed on the leaves of the mulberry-trees and also on those of the tapia (Chrysopia sp.) shrub. Another moth, somewhat like the silk-producing one in colouring, has an extraordinary development of the hind wings, which have long delicate tail-like appendages; these have extremely narrow shafts and are enlarged at the ends. Their points have two spiral twists or folds, very graceful in appearance. There are four distinct eye-like spots near the centre of each wing, which are light buff in colour, with lemon-yellow. The insect measures eight and a half inches from shoulder to point of tail, and eight inches across the upper wings. It is allied to Tropæa leto. Some species of moth, very dark brown in colour, and yet beautifully marked, often fly into our houses at night, the female being much larger than the male. The Malagasy are afraid of seeing these almost black-looking insects, which they call lòlom-pàty (“death-moths”), in their houses, as they think them presages of evil and death. Another moth, with death’s-head marking on its thorax, is also often seen. But the most beautiful of the Malagasy lepidoptera is a diurnal moth, which one would always call a butterfly—viz. the Urania riphæa, a large and lovely insect, with golden-green, crimson and black markings, and edged all round its wings and tails with delicate pure white. It is a curious fact that the nearest ally to this Madagascar species is a native of Hayti and Cuba (U. sloana), a remarkable instance of discontinuity of habitat. This fact, however, has a parallel in the family of small insectivorous animals called Centetidæ, which are also confined to Madagascar and some of the West India islands. During 1899 this butterfly was unusually abundant, while in some seasons it is seldom seen. At Isoàvina I noticed a great many flying around the tall blue-gum trees in the dusk of the evening. Great numbers also were seen at Ambòhimànga in the garden there. They appeared to be intoxicated with the strong flavour of the nectar from the loquat-trees, then in flower, so that almost any quantity of them could have been captured in the early morning, while still under the influence of the flowers, which have a powerful scent of prussic acid. The Malagasy call it Andrìandòlo—i.e. “king-butterfly.”
In these bare upper highlands of Madagascar butterflies are not found in as great variety as in the warmer regions of the island. Still there are a few species which are common enough, the most plentiful being one which is satiny-blue above and spotted with brown and grey underneath. This is to be seen all the year round, especially hovering over the euphorbia hedges which divide plantations from the roads. Another, also tolerably common, is a large reddish-brown butterfly, the wings edged with black and white. More rare is an insect with four large round white spots on dark chocolate-brown wings; and another, dark brown in colour, with eye-like spots of blue and red. Several small species, yellow, white, or brown, or silvery-grey and blue, are found hovering over, or settling on, damp places; and there are two or three white species, with black spots or lines on the edges of the wings. In the warmer season a handsome large Papilio is rather common in our gardens, with dark green and sulphur-yellow spots and markings. The eggs of some of these are beautiful objects in the microscope, being fluted and sculptured like a Greek vase. My friend, M. Ch. Matthey, who has made large collections of Madagascar insects, tells me that there are a few cases of mimicry and dimorphism, especially the latter, among the butterflies of the interior.