One thing greatly struck me during the afternoon service. After a sermon by our chaplain from the well-selected text, “God be merciful to me a sinner,” the native pastor of the church, took the congregation through their catechism. This was the highest catechism containing, I believe, over a hundred questions. As he put the questions one by one, the entire congregation answered. The governor, and the governor’s wife; the officers old and young; the women and the female slaves; the young men, boys, girls; the Sihánaka as well as the Hovas, all answered clearly and correctly. These people had been carefully taught. Far away from Englishmen, receiving but indirectly life and stimulus from the churches of their brethren in Imerina, dependent entirely upon one another and upon native teaching, these people were keeping the Sabbath, were maintaining in an orderly manner public worship, and all were being well instructed in the faith, from the sole fountain of the Word of God. Has not that word been glorified among them?—The same afternoon Mr. Sibree and Mr. Pillans went over to Ambohipeno, where the people had received us so kindly yesterday afternoon. They found the chapel full and had a congregation of four hundred people, who most attentively listened to the addresses which they gave.
We had invited the governor to dine with us: but he preferred and pressed that we should dine with him. His officers and family were most kind. While we were dining the choir sang hymns; the singing having been substituted for the customary honour of the band playing during an entertainment. An hour or two later the governor came over to take a quiet cup of tea with us, and talk about the religious wants of the town and district. He heartily seconded the proposal made in Ambátondrazáka, that the whole province should be placed in the hands of one or two English missionaries, and that teachers and pastors should be trained on the spot for the instruction of the native congregations. He wanted some arrangement made for the regular supply and sale of Bibles. He asked whether our friends in England would not kindly supply them also with a few sets of simple Communion Services, which cannot be made or bought in Madagascar.
We all took a great liking for this excellent Christian man. He was so simple, so child-like in his spirit, and so truly affectionate and kind, that our hearts warmed to him, and we felt anxious to do all we can for the help of himself and his people. His name is Andríamamónjy. He has not been to the Capital for twelve years, during which all the great improvements have been introduced there: but though isolated he has learned much: and he is truly anxious for the enlightenment and improvement of the people around him. We assured him of the deep interest that would henceforth be felt in the province; and we hoped that an English missionary would come and reside there. Here as elsewhere we gave books to the teacher of the school, the pastor and others: we found that the school has seventy scholars and there are twenty-five who can read.
Mr. Sibree relates in his Journal a curious incident which happened in this town two years ago, to two students of the College in Antanánarivo, who visited the place on their way to Mojangá. Among various perplexities on religious matters which troubled the minds of the people, this was one:—
“The people enquired, ‘When it is Sunday and the water in the house happens to be all used, is it right to fetch a little from the spring?’ We replied, ‘That is a matter one cannot lay down a rule for, but we think you should ask of your neighbours.’ ‘Our neighbours,’ said they, ‘are just in the same plight as ourselves. And then when strangers happen to come on Saturday evening and there is not water enough, what is to be done?’ ‘Does that often happen that it troubles you so?’ said we. ‘It is often the case,’ the people replied, ‘or we should not be concerned about it.’ So we bade them do as follows: We told them to buy three big water-pots, and every Saturday evening have them filled, so that those whose water was expended on Sunday, or had strangers come unexpectedly, might take from them what they wanted. And these three big pots are to be called ‘Charity water-pots’ (Sini-ben’ ny fiantrana); to all which they cheerfully agreed, and appointed three men to be superintendents of these water-pots, both as to filling them and giving out supplies; and here are the names of the superintendents.” Had we remembered the incident we should have certainly asked for a sight of the “Charity water-pots,” and enquired how the arrangement worked.
We saw our kind friend the governor once more on Monday morning; and having said farewell to him and his family, at nine o’clock we continued our journey to the north. After taking a few observations, we noticed with interest that the lofty hill one mile north of the town is volcanic: it is part of an old crater: large portions of one side have been broken away; but abundance of lava is strewn on and around it over a wide space. This is the only specimen of volcanic action we have found in all the district. The line of that action lies in general farther west. And the nearest volcanic hills are on the north-west shoulder of the island, in the island of Nosibe and the great hills opposite to it on the mainland.
Bounding the volcano to the eastward, we came into the level bay between the main hills and the promontory outside. We passed four small villages, crossed a stream running south by which the western hills and this level are drained, and close to a spur of the promontory, came to a large village, Móraráno, with seventy houses, and a little neighbour, Marafotsy, with thirty more. We next climbed the promontory itself, which was to be our road for many miles: and from a high point on the ridge had a beautiful view of the district. On another lofty hill, having a single thorn tree, we found an excellent station, which we named One Tree Hill. We had long since left all population behind. We saw not a house for several hours. Indeed we saw neither house nor people from Móraráno to our resting-place. The fact is very significant, and shows the two directions from a common point in which the province has been peopled. Our men and ourselves took the refreshment we had brought with us on the hill-side; and then pressed forward to our destination. We descended into the swamp once more, crossed two of its north-western arms; then rounded the corner of the province, kept under its northern hills, over a grassy plain, full of cattle; and at four o’clock reached the village of Ambóhijánaháry.
It was the poorest place we had yet seen, and looked dirty and unkempt in every way. They told us it had recently been burned down: a great calamity in a country and to a people where the accumulation of capital goes on so slowly. The calamity alas! is of frequent occurrence in these country towns and is natural. The houses are built of wood and reeds, and are thatched with leaves or straw. The kitchen fire inside and the hot sun without dry up every particle of moisture from these substances and turn them into huge tinder-boxes: while the people are extremely careless about fire. As Earl Russell justly said about the cities of Japan: “If people build their cities of bamboos and brown paper, can they wonder if they are burned down?”
There were one hundred and six houses in the town. It stands on a spur of the northern hills; and is surrounded by hedges of the Euphorbia Cactus, which have grown to an enormous size. The Cactus arms were thick and tall, and the pears on them were very large. It was difficult work, to pass along the lane unharmed, and still more difficult to get the palankins and baggage through the gate of hanging poles, by which entrance to the town is guarded.
We had now reached the north end of the province and our road lay along the face of the hills, which form its northern boundary. These hills are not a single chain; but are the ends of several chains all having the same general trend from about north-west to south-east, and corresponding to similar ridges at the other end of the district.