The Fugitives: The Tyrant Queen of Madagascar by R. M. Ballantyne (top books to read txt) 📖

you told us about who did so much for the missionaries, though he wasn’t a Christian himself?” asked Hockins, as they all passed through the enclosure of the village and entered the woods.

“Yes, the same,” replied the guide, “though whether he was a Christian or not I cannot tell. I judge no man. He made no profession of Christianity, but he was kind to the missionaries—very different from Ranavalona.”

“Das de oosurper, what you call ’er?” said Ebony.

“Just so,” returned the guide. “Well, as I was saying, our people are very hospitable. Everywhere, almost, throughout the country, when a traveller enters a village, a present is usually brought to him of rice, poultry, or fruit, or whatever they have on hand. You’ll find out that for yourselves as you go along—”

“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.”

On this being translated Ebony hoped that the black man was included in the white, and Mark asked if the hunting-ground was far-off.

“A long way,” said the chief, “we shan’t reach it till night. But that’s no matter, for night is our time to hunt.”

He said this with a twinkle in his eye, for he saw well enough that his guests were impatient to be gone.

“But,” continued he, on observing that they did not seem cheered by the prospect, “our road to the hunting-plain lies on your way to Antananarivo, so you won’t lose time.”

As he spoke he opened a small box containing a brown sort of dust, of which he put as much as he possibly could between the teeth of his lower jaw and the lip.

“What in all the world is he doin’?” asked Hockins of the guide in a low tone.

“He is taking snuff.”

“I always s’posed,” remarked Ebony, “dat snuff was tooken by de nose!”

“So it is, they tell me, in England; but we have a different fashion here, as you see, and quite as foolish.”

“You don’t mean that it’s tobacco he treats in that way?” exclaimed Mark.

“Not pure tobacco, but tobacco mixed with other things—something like the cheap cigars which you English are said to smoke!” replied Ravonino with something of a humorous twinkle in his eyes. “But we don’t smoke. We only snuff. In making our snuff we first dry the tobacco leaves and grind them to powder. Then to this we add the ashes of the leaves of a sweet-smelling herb, the mixture being twice as much tobacco as ashes; a small quantity of potash or salt is added, and then it is considered fit for use.”

“Don’t your people smoke at all?” asked Hockins.

“Not much, and never tobacco—except those on the coast who have been corrupted by Europeans. Some of us used to smoke rongona, a kind of hemp. It is a powerful stimulant, and used to be taken by warriors before going out to battle, because it drove them nearly mad, and so fitted them for their bloody work. Government has lately forbidden its use—but it is still used in secret.”

“They’ve got baccy, an’ don’t smoke!” murmured Hockins to himself in a kind of meditative surprise, as though he had just been told that the natives possessed food and did not eat.

“But you don’t smoke?” remarked the guide.

“That’s ’cause I hain’t got baccy nor pipe. You give me pipe and baccy an’ I’ll smoke you into fits in no time.”

“Do you feel the want of it much?”

“Not much. At first I did, most awful, but now I’m gettin’ over it.”

The guide was silent. He might have remarked, “Yet now, if you had the chance, you would enslave yourself again!” but, not being of an argumentative turn of mind, he merely shook his head and changed the subject. It was well, for Hockins was one of those people who, “if convinced against their will, remain of the same opinion still.”

After breakfast, while the young men of the tribe armed themselves and made preparation for the expedition, Ravonino took his friends through the village, the inhabitants of which were evidently as deeply interested in seeing the white men as the latter were in seeing the brown; for each were objects of curiosity to the other.

During the stroll our friends saw the weaving of the lamba—the large plaid-like garment of hempen cloth worn extensively in the island. The looms were rude and simple, but the fabrics produced were wonderfully good in appearance and texture, some being made of a kind of coarse silk. Many of them were ornamented, and rendered very heavy with immense quantities of small leaden beads fastened to the garment either in straight or curved rows, the lead having been procured from traders at the coast, and the beads having been manufactured by themselves. These natives wore but little clothing—merely a cloth round the loins, and sometimes a jacket made of coarse material. The lamba is usually worn over the shoulders in the cool of the morning, but at the time we write of most of the men who used the garment, had bound it tightly round their waists.

Our travellers were made acquainted at this time with a game which interested them greatly—especially arousing the enthusiasm of the negro. It was a kicking game, played by some of the more active among the young men, who, having got ready for the field quickly, were waiting for their slower companions. The chief peculiarity of the game consisted in the mode of kicking, namely backwards, in the horse or donkey fashion. The guide explained that the name of the game, when literally translated, was, “striking blue with the sole of the foot!” It is a desperate game, and when played, as it frequently is, by hundreds of active and powerful young men, the results are sometimes sprained ankles, broken legs, etcetera.

“Oh! das de game for me!” cried the enthusiastic Ebony, who could hardly be restrained from joining. “De sole ob my foot’s awrful broad, an’ I could strike black as well as blue. Do let me try, massa!”

Fortunately, perhaps, for our negro, the chief came out of his hut at that moment and gave the signal for the hunters to advance, thus bringing the game and Ebony’s aspirations to an abrupt end. The young men at once fell to the rear, and the whole party sallied forth into the forest.

It was magnificent weather, with just cloud enough to prevent the sun being overpoweringly hot, and the tract of country over which they passed was surpassingly beautiful. To Mark Breezy it seemed as if all the winged insects in the island had come forth to welcome him. There were butterflies of various sizes and brilliant colours flitting to and fro among the wild-flowers, besides dragon-flies, grasshoppers of exquisite beauty, spiders with coats of gold and silver, caterpillars half-a-foot long in gorgeous array of black, scarlet, and yellow, and many other creatures which we may not pause to describe here, though Mark and the guide frequently paused to look at them, insomuch that they were often left a considerable way behind. One of the butterflies which Mark caught at that time was very beautiful, and a slow flier. It actually measured eight inches across the extended wings.

Of larger animals they saw none; and it may be as well to remark here that there are no large carnivora in Madagascar—no lions, tigers, leopards panthers, or creatures of that sort—nothing larger than a wild-cat and a wolf being known. Neither are there elephants, giraffes, rhinoceroses, hippopotami, antelope, nor deer; the only large animals being two species of ox, and the wild-boar, goats and sheep, and crocodiles. There are also huge bats, an animal of the monkey tribe called the lemur, hedgehogs, and rabbits.

The lemurs are very pretty little things, and, being gentle affectionate creatures, are sometimes tamed and kept as pets.

The scenery, we have said, was beautiful. At one turn of the road in particular a landscape of such beauty appeared suddenly before them that Mark was arrested as if spell-bound; it was such a gorgeous combination of luxuriant foliage—ferns and palms and bamboos, interlaced with creepers, and enlivened by streams which brawled and tumbled in picturesque cascades, over which hundreds of butterflies sported in the sunshine. From the height of land on which they stood a wide, well-watered plain was seen to extend far below them. It was hemmed in on either side by wooded hills and backed by the interior highlands. Far down the hill-side their companions could be seen wending their way through the tangled shrubbery, just in rear of the native hunters, led by their energetic chief Voalavo. As the men carried spears, the points of which glittered in the sun, the party had quite a martial aspect.

To our young student the whole scene was enchanting. It had the effect of subduing and solemnising his feelings in a way which he had never before experienced. The earnest, religious cast of his companion’s spirit also tended not a little to deepen this feeling and induce him for the first time in his life to understand that “nature’s God” was in very truth present with him.

“Is not the hand