The children of Madagascar / by Herbert F. Standing.

  • Herbert Standing
Date:
1887
Catalogue details

Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: The children of Madagascar / by Herbert F. Standing. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    were beasts of burden ! Well no, perhaps it is not very pleasant at first, but you will soon get used to it; and certainly the men do not object; they are very glad to be employed ; and a merry, light- hearted set of fellows they are, who will stride along with you and laugh and joke for hours together. For the first day or two our road runs along near the sea, now through beautiful park-like country, with clumps of traveller's trees, pandanus, casuarina, sago-palms, and many others, as well as occa- sional cocoa-nut palms, and plantations of oranges, lemons and limes, and with a soft green carpet of springy turf beneath our feet ; now again along the sandy beach, where the blue waters of the ocean lie basking in the heat of the tropical sun, or come rolling in in long lines of white breakers, as the south-east trade wind urges them on to the shore. Here innumerable little crabs have their home, who, on being disturbed by the crunching noise of the men's feet in the wet sand, hurry into their houses with the greatest consternation. Now again for several hours the track lies along the shores of the lagoons. These are long lakes of brackish water running parallel with the sea-coast; and we have our choice whether we will go by land, or in one of these immense canoes which lie waiting for us at the water's edge. The calm, smooth lake looks so invitingly cool with its fringe of pandanus, gigantic arums, and other tropical plants, and mirroring the blue of the sky and the forms of the fleecy clouds far down below its tranquil surface, that we decide at once to take the water route. Our men forthwith carry us, palanquins and all, into one of the biggest of the canoes, which are each hollowed out of a single giant tree, and having safely deposited us, each seizes a queer httle spade-like paddle made out of a flat piece of wood, the canoe is pushed off, and away we glide over the bosom of the lake. The men soon strike up a weird native song or chant, to which the plash of the paddle-blades in the water, and the ' click click' of the handles as they strike against the sides of the canoe, keep perfect time. You would