The country we now visited divides itself into three sections, differing in a marked degree from one another. The first section includes the inhabited country among the hills: Noman’s land occupies the middle position; and the Sákaláva plains, as far as the sea, take the third.
The first section of our journey carried us along four broad terraces, of which three mark very decided falls of the ground towards the sea. At the same time our course led us, not directly to the most abrupt descent of the ground, viz. toward the west; but obliquely along the descent, and over a larger space of ground. This is the reason why we found the journey so easy and pleasant.
While travelling on Thursday, July 21, through Vonizongo, we followed the track we had already taken, on that pleasant Sunday which we spent in December 1873, with the people of Sambaina. As then, we traversed the high moors beyond Fiháonana, the ground rising higher and higher, till we came abreast of the great ridge of Ambohimanga which here curves toward the east. As before, the south-east wind blew keen and cold over these exposed moors, which lie 4600 feet above the sea. We descended over the edge of the ridge, seven hundred feet: and came into North Vonizongo, a long level valley, between two pleasant lines of hills and drained by the river Andránobe. On the left we had the noble ridge of Ambóhidambínana, with a large village Ambohizáfy at its foot. Other small villages are near. Proceeding due north, we came upon a curious bend of the Andranobe (3880 feet), and crossed that river twice. The people informed us that it rises on the north side of Andringitra and east of Lohavóhitra: it passes through the populous valleys near Ambóhitrólona, with their numerous churches; rounding the promontory of Ambohimanga, it enters north Vonizongo; and having watered that valley for many miles, passes through the western line of hills and falls into the Ikopa. We have ourselves seen the greater part of this course. Passing a few villages beyond this bend of the river we came to Ambohitromby, where our men had their morning meal. We ourselves had tiffin in a private house: and the good people took the opportunity of seeking light on a variety of outside Biblical questions which trouble the Malagasy mind. We did our best to explain them: and everything would have gone well, if the long strings of venerable soot hanging from the roof had not diverted themselves by dropping contributions into our rice and tea. A pleasant and easy journey during the afternoon, brought us early to the village of Ankazobe (3830 feet). With fourteen houses, surrounded by deep fosses and high cactus hedges, full of dust and pigs, a chapel with a falling wall, clumsy window-frames and no windows, it was not a first-rate place of accommodation either for ourselves or our men. We managed however: though the night was very cold.
Next day we continued along North Vonizongo, and sent our baggage direct to Maháridaza, a few miles distant, where we were to sleep. We ourselves turned aside to climb the lofty ridge of Angavo (4880 feet), which promised numerous and valuable observations. We had a long and heavy climb, but were amply repaid by the prospect we obtained. It was no scene of beauty that spread around us: we looked upon a treeless, empty wilderness: the only population was in the long valley up which we had come. The whole district is within the region of the sedimentary clay: the valleys have been scored out of it by water: and naturally the clay hills are of one height. Looking over the eastern ridge in the direction of the Anátivolo, we could not discern one prominent hill: all the summits were of uniform height. To the west it was the same. The only exception was in portions of ridges like the Angavo on which we stood. This was a grand mass of gneiss; and the bluff at its northern end is a lofty perpendicular precipice, one of the finest rocks we have seen in the country. North of Angavo, the next ridge is unbroken, the valley of North Vonizongo is completely shut in; part of the waters have escaped down the Andránobe on the south-west: the remainder have swirled round the precipice at the head of the ridge, have cut out a beautiful hollow in the northern hills and have escaped along the west side of Angavo, down what is now the valley of the River Antrobo. The ridge itself and others parallel with it trend off to the south-west. To the south Lohavohitra and Tsi-áfa-balála were conspicuous points: and to the north we fixed the position of several prominent hills, near which we subsequently passed. Descending the Angavo ridge on its western side, we crossed the Antrobo, and as we went along saluted the inhabitants of Antándrokomby, a village of forty houses, who came out to meet us. The precipice of Angavo overhangs this village and it looked grand indeed, as we passed close to its foot.
Maharidaza we found to be a village of forty-two houses; very dirty and with countless herds of swine. The people were very ignorant but very willing. Some of them had never seen a person write, until Mrs. Pillans showed them how it was done and what meaning it had. It reminded me of the early days of Raiatea, when John Williams, to the astonishment of his people, used “to make chips talk.” They have had but little attention paid to their wants, and although there are chapels all up the valley to this point, the means of instruction at their command have been very scanty. Now however that the organisation of the Imerina Mission has been extended, Mr. Stribling will probably give regular superintendence to all these churches. With them and their neighbours the ordinary population of Northern Imerina in this direction comes to an end.
On Saturday we had a short journey. Our course lay up the inner bend of the long valley, and then we climbed over the ridge by the pass of Ambohimena (4800 feet): and on the hill to the west we took several useful observations. Nowhere did we see signs of upheaval in the latest and existing stage of things. The entire country was sedimentary clay, which had buried and enveloped the gneiss ridges and boulders of an earlier time, and was now cut and scored to great depths by the action of water.
To the east and west the tops of the hills were of the same height. To the north the clay had given way. The red hill of Ambohimena and the ridge to which it belongs is the edge of the Vonizongo terrace. On the north side the ground begins rapidly to fall. And we pass down two or three long stairs before we reach Noman’s Land; the total fall in which, over a length of sixty miles is 1700 feet. The fall was patent to the eye, and it showed itself in two parallel valleys, divided by a remarkable line of conical hills. In less than three hours we reached Kinajy (3490).
The town of Kinajy is the first of a series of military stations, five in number, in the direction of the Sakalava country, and along the line of easiest access. It is the guard and gate of the north-west road into Imerina. Each of these towns has its commander, its government house, and its garrison. Each is at the same time a great cattle post; and immense herds, belonging to men high in authority in Imerina, are fed and tended in their neighbourhood. The kraals in which they are kept are very large. The town consists of sixty-eight houses, and is placed on a spur of the hills, having many deep gullies on its northern side. On the south it has a double gateway: and each gate can be closed both with poles and stones. The pigs as usual were multitudinous. But the chapel was a clean little building, neatly fitted with mats, and the Governor and his people willingly allowed us to occupy it. We spent a most pleasant Sunday with them. The building was well filled both morning and afternoon: the congregation included several respectable Hova families, dressed with great neatness: and as Mr. Jukes had not yet overtaken us, we were glad to find that we had in our camp two native preachers, who could speak well and to whom the people listened with pleasure. All day long we were receiving applications for books, especially the new lesson-book: the young people were delighted to practise the new tunes and hymns; and I had a large number of patients suffering from feverish colds.
We spent the next three days in completing our journey through the Hova stations; and found the country very easy to traverse. The moment we left Kinajy, the ground began to fall. We crossed a fine valley to the north; and at an opening between two conical hills, came upon a little winding river, the Mánankázo, “that which has wood,” a truly descriptive name, when in the midst of this dry, clay country, the only bushes and trees were to be found in the ravine of the stream. The river rises in the hills near Vohilena, to the north of the Anátivolo. On the bank and along the roots of the hills the grass was truly beautiful: much of it was in vast tufts, very tall, tinted with pink and purple; another kind was a strong, reedy grass: and a third was crowned with a handsome white feather, soft as down. Passing to the eastward over the shoulder of these rounded hills, we came into a second valley, and found ourselves between high parallel gneiss ranges, with a rough and rocky edge. A stream of clear water came out of the eastern hills, called the Firingáláva: and we crossed many streamlets rushing down to join it.
We took our lunch at Ambohinorina, the second of these garrison towns, with fifty houses and a clay chapel: duly enclosed by a ditch, wall, and gates. Four miles north was a deep basin, which ended in a ravine down which the river ran. Here the grass was on fire, and we had to run the gauntlet: then we climbed the ridge to a higher level, and passed between two noble mountains, Sáháfásika, on the west, four miles in length; and Ambohibe on the right. Both these mountains we had duly noted from Angavo: and the double head of the latter, made it a conspicuous object for many miles. We spent the night at Ampotaka (2490), a dirty town of thirty houses, with an immense cattle fold and fine herds that filled it. Beyond Ampotaka, we mounted high ridges, which gave us excellent observing stations, but over which the east wind was sweeping with violence. We looked down at one point upon deep valleys, and passed along the upper edge of a fine waterfall. The hills were very fine in all directions and the scenery was truly picturesque. We now descended into the valley of the Máhamókamita, “that which makes musquitoes to cross,” which passes clean through the western ridge. The river comes from the moor on the south-east; it winds much through the clay, into which it has cut deep, and in the middle of the glen into which we descended it falls in a fine cascade over a reef of hard rocks. All through the glen the scenery was bold and pleasing. We came out into an open and level basin, in the centre of which was the town of Mangasoavina (2160).