During the next two days we were still in Upper Ankay. In general the centre ridges were level; but the plain was deeply scored by the streams; the gullies having a bend to the north-west. Here and there were high hills, which we used as surveying stations: and from one of which we had a fine view of the east wall of Ankay and the valley of the Mangoro river. The head waters of that river were close to our hill. As we proceeded, we came upon one village and then another, peopled by the Sihánaka. The women were fair, and had necklaces and ornaments of beads and coral: both men and women had numerous strands or plaits in their hair. These villages smelt badly of the native rum: the little sheds which contained the stills were very conspicuous; and the ground was strewn with shreds of the sugar cane from which the rum is made. One little stream we crossed, with its edging of wood was called Sahamaitso, “green valley”; pretty indeed, but very different in size and beauty from the Green River of Colorado. Another, with a fine curve, was the Ranofotsy, “white river,” flowing over clean sand. Near the village of Mangatány, we passed through a grove of myrtle trees; and we found abundance of chlorite and chlorite earth, from whence the village is named. We were now close to the east wall of Ankay, and turning up a narrow defile, crossed by a beautiful reef of pure milk-quartz, we climbed 750 feet to the top of a noble hill of red clay, called Ambohiborona, “bird hill.” The hill made an admirable station: it towered high over the country round, and gave us our first clear view of the Sihanaka district. It stretched northward for nearly forty miles. The high ridges on the east; the low hills and gullies of Ankay; the dark green forest line which bounded them; the lighter, softer green of the reed swamps to the north; the long fingers that came and dipped into the swamps and were lost; the dark hills on the northern horizon; and the blue lake of Alaotra at their feet:—these were the objects on which we gazed long from that lofty tower. This was the country which we had travelled far to see. Descending the hill, we crossed in succession three ridges with their intervening levels: had our first experience of the swamps for which the district is famous: saw how the swampy levels are being recovered and employed for rice fields: and at last, after a hard day’s work, mounting a low hill, beheld beneath us the goal for which we had aimed. In a few minutes we were deposited, by our bearers, in their best style, at the door of the beautiful chapel of Ambatondrazaka, the capital of the Sihanaka district.
Having sent in to the governor our letters of introduction, we were speedily invited to pay him a visit. We were duly carried in state by our men, and passing through the gates of the double stockade, were set down at the door of the government house. Entering the lower hall, we found the governor seated in the middle of the room; while his officers were behind him, and a goodly number of common people, (exercising doubtless an old tribal right), placed themselves on his right hand. In front three chairs were placed for us. The governor whose name is Ra-tsi-mihára, and who is an officer of 12 Honours, received us cordially; and after we were seated, addressed us, according to custom, in the following manner: “Since you, our friends and Englishmen, have come from the Capital, we ask of you, How is Queen Ranaválona, the sovereign of the land? How is Ráinilaiarivóny, the Prime Minister, protector of the kingdom? How is our venerable father, Rainingory? How is Rainimáharávo, chief secretary of state? How is Rabe, his son? How are the princes, the relations of the Queen? How are the great people? How is the kingdom of Ambohimánga and of Antanánarivo? How are the ‘under heaven,’ the people? How are you, our friends? And how is your fatigue after your journey?” To these inquiries, after a pause, Mr. Sibree gravely replied seriatim: informing the governor, that the Queen was well: the Prime Minister was well; the kingdom was well; that we were well, though we were fatigued: and so on. He then inquired in turn, how the governor was, and the town and the people, and things in general in the Sihanaka district. He also described the purpose of our journey; informed him of our visits to the churches in other parts of Madagascar: and specially inquired about the small-pox epidemic. We learned that it had prevailed, but by a careful isolation of the patients, had been stamped out: and no new case had occurred in the town for three weeks past. Every evening every house in the town was visited by one of the officers to inquire into the health of the inmates.
The governor then took us by the hand and led us back to our quarters: and dinner being ready, we invited him to share it with us. He readily sat down and in due time emphatically declared that pancakes and English jam were excellent food. After tea, surrounded by his officers and by the people of the town, he presented us with a number of geese and fowls, several baskets of rice, and an unwilling pig, who did not see why he should be sacrificed in the cause of Sihánaka hospitality, and vociferously protested against the proceedings. A formal speech was made on the occasion; the things being presented in the Queen’s name: to which we made a formal and grateful reply. The pig was handed over to the men, with the baskets of rice; and while they disposed of him at their leisure, we took possession of our airy room, and enjoyed a sound and healthy rest.
Thursday proved a busy and pleasant day. We paid numerous visits to the various quarters of the town; examined the market; held consultations with the pastor of the church; and examined the scholars he had gathered in the school. Thus we learned a great deal respecting the district, the town we were visiting, and the progress of the Christian congregations which it contains. We found an excellent observing station and took a few photographs.
Ambatondrazaka is a good town of four hundred houses, and a population of two thousand souls. It is built on the side of a peninsula or ridge running up from the great ridges on the south-east: and it overlooks a fine bay in these hills from which a great rice-harvest had only recently been carried away. A broad road coming down the crest of the ridge divides the town into nearly equal parts. In the centre of the town and east of the road stands the rova or fortress occupied by the Hova governor and his garrison. This rova is laid out with great regularity: its large well-built houses are all in line; the streets are broad and clean; and each house forms a block with a road on every side. The whole is surrounded by a double stockade; and between the two fences is a space of thirty feet. The governor’s house, or lápá, is in the north-east division of the town, and has a stockade of its own: it is a house of two stories, with verandahs round it, and looks large and comfortable, even among the substantial buildings by which it is surrounded. In old Malagasy fashion, all these houses are built of wood.
Outside the rova are a large number of houses, built of clay, wood or reeds, with large enclosures of clay or reed for the great cattle-herds with which the district abounds. The people in these houses looked squalid and poor: pigs were abundant, and the streets were dirty. The Chapel, however, on the west of the road, and opposite the rova, is a handsome building, a copy of its mother church at Analakely in the Capital. It is built of clay; is ninety feet long by thirty-six broad; and has doors, windows and pulpit all well made. The walls are white-washed; and the floor was covered from end to end with fine mats, carefully sewn together. We heard with much pleasure that, before the outbreak of small-pox, this fine building was usually filled at the Sunday morning service. In a town like this our bearers soon found friends; as retailers of the latest news from the Capital, with which the soldiers of the garrison are connected by a thousand ties, they were everywhere welcome, and without difficulty made themselves at home.
To us the market looked small, though deemed by the inhabitants and their country neighbours an important place. We found in it fine banánas (always an acceptable addition to our table, especially when fried); our men purchased the enormous sugar canes, ten and twelve feet high; and there was for sale a quantity of small dried fish brought from the east coast. While we were taking observations and photographs from a neighbouring slope, the transactions of the market were brought to a complete stand-still. Buyers and sellers all turned to look on. Our instruments were watched with interest and wonder; and our bearers were called in to explain their magical and mysterious uses. But the cattle, always in a state of excitement on market days, began frisking and capering about; and at length commenced a general stampede down the town with half the population at their heels. In the evening we dined with the governor: but before we sat down he presented us with a bullock, that had been duly killed and cut up for ourselves and our people. After a brief speech and our formal reply, we summoned our bearers to carry it away. The governor’s dinner was excellent, consisting of soup, curry, roast turkey, coffee and abundance of fresh milk. On returning to our rest-house, we found our bearers seated in a line on the top of the wall, intently watching the small mound of beef, which they were eager to divide. They were soon made happy and carried their happiness far into the night; singing over their beef and stimulated by stronger waters than the swamps usually supply.
Christian work has prospered in Ambátondrazáka. Here, as in other places, the Hova Christians from Imerina, thrown on their own resources, have steadfastly maintained their hold on the Gospel. They keep the Sabbath: they maintain public worship, having two services a-day; they have an appointed pastor; they send their children to school. Here, as elsewhere, we saw a few copies of the new Bible; several teachers have been sent to the country churches; and even grown people have learned to read. It was specially pleasant to us to find that the young pastor of the church, Andríamáhaléo, was not a Hova, from a distance, but was an Antsihánaka, a native of the province. Though in early days his people had been refused permission to learn to read or write, as a boy, quick and shrewd, he had secretly taught himself to do both. Being employed in the office of the Governor, he had observed the form given to words, which he knew to have been inscribed on the public letters: he compared the inscription on one letter with that on another: and arguing back from known meanings and known sounds, he learned to identify those sounds with the written symbols. He became a Christian: he picked up knowledge; and he became so well acquainted with the Sihánaka customs and laws, that he was appointed one of the judges of the province. He proved also an excellent expounder of the Scriptures, and the church invited him to be their pastor. “I am not wise,” he said; “I wish to know more of the Word of God myself; but they said I was able to teach them; and I do my best.”
Having taken farewell of the Governor, on Friday morning we commenced our tour round the southern and western sides of the Sihánaka province. All the centre of the province is under water and is occupied by the great reed swamps, or by the deeper waters of the Aláotra Lake. The population has settled on the roots of the hills by which the basin is surrounded. For two hours and a half we proceeded westward along the edge of the hills or crossed one or two narrow arms of the swamp on frail plank bridges, and then reached the prosperous village of Ambóhidéhiláhy. The village contains a hundred and fifty houses, and is situated on the end of a long clay promontory. The chapel is a simple building, made of reeds; but we found a new and much larger one, at its side, in course of erection, of substantial clay bricks and solid timber-roof. The good people gave us a hearty welcome, in the middle of the village. They placed before us abundance of beef, poultry, eggs and baskets of rice; and with the usual inquiries after the authorities and ourselves and the usual words of welcome, begged our acceptance of their present.
While our midday meal was preparing, we went into the chapel, which we found full of people, and very gladly gave them a service. As elsewhere during this journey, Mr. Sibree kindly acted as our spokesman, and gave them the instruction they desired. It was pleasant, yet it was painful, to see the eager look on the faces of the many respectable women, the bright young men and the intelligent children, who had been waiting for us two or three hours. We heard many of them read, examined them as to their knowledge of the Scriptures; and when they had sung a hymn, Mr. Sibree gave them an address, dwelling on the prime truths of Christianity, especially those connected with the Lord Jesus Christ himself. Ill do those understand Christian missionaries, who imagine that in instructing simple converts like these, we dwell on the outside questions of denominational organisation and worship. It is the Lord himself whom they need. It is the Lord alone who can satisfy their soul’s hunger and who does satisfy it, when once they find Him. The more simply, the more completely, we bring them to Him, and bring Him to them, the more truly is our work accomplished. We want not to make proselytes: we want these ignorant wanderers to become Christians.