“A bery proper state ob tings,” remarked Ebony.
“And whatever house you come to,” continued Ravonino, “the owner will invite you politely to enter, and make you welcome. Of course there are greedy and surly people here and there, but these are an exception to the rule. Well, on one occasion King Radama heard of some people of that sort. You must know that our chiefs have always required that they should be entertained on the best the people could provide. It is an old custom. Well, Radama made a law that all the provisions and other kinds of property should belong to the people, but all the houses in the country should belong to the sovereign; and he ordered the inhabitants to furnish lodgings to his servants and soldiers wherever they went. In order to make sure that his orders were obeyed the King soon after went in disguise to a village some distance off, and towards evening entered a peasant’s house and asked to be taken in for the night.
“The heads of the family did not refuse, but rendered their hospitality in such a way as showed that he was not welcome. Next day he went to another house. There he was kindly welcomed, civilly treated, and the best they had in the house was set before him. In the morning when taking leave he made himself known, no less to the surprise than consternation of the family, and he left, assuring them that their hospitality should not be forgotten. The King kept his word, for he afterwards sent his officers to the village with a stern reproof to his first entertainer and a handsome present to the other.”
Just as the guide finished his anecdote a resplendent butterfly of enormous size rose from the bushes, and Mark, to whom it was quite a new specimen, bounded after it, but failed to effect a capture.
“Neber mind, massa,” said the sympathetic Ebony, “you’ll hab better luck nex’ time—p’r’aps!”
“Besides,” added the guide, “there are plenty more where that came from, for we have got into a good region for insects.”
“Seems to me,” said Hockins, “it’s a good region for everything. Look at that now,”—he pointed to an object in front of him. “I would say that was a spider if it warn’t as big as a bird, and hadn’t set up a fishin’-net for a web!”
Although not strictly correct, the seaman’s description had a foundation in truth, for some of the spiders of Madagascar are enormous, and their webs so thick that it requires a considerable effort to break them. Moreover they are said to be poisonous, and the bite of some even deadly.
The contemplation of those creatures, however, had to be cut short at that time, as they did not dare to risk keeping Voalavo waiting breakfast for them.
“We are going to stick pigs and hunt wild cattle,” said the jovial chief, with his mouth full of chicken and rice, when they arrived. “We will show the white men some fun.”