One very sultry forenoon Mark and his party--while out botanising,
entomologising, philosophising, etcetera, not far from but out of sight
of the great procession--came to the brow of a hill and sat down to
rest.
Their appearance had become somewhat curious and brigand-like by that
time, for their original garments having been worn-out were partially
replaced by means of the scissors and needle of John Hockins--at least
in the trousers department. That worthy seaman having, during his
travels, torn his original trousers to shreds from the knee downwards,
had procured some stout canvas in the capital and made for himself
another pair. He was, like most sailors, expert at tailoring, and the
result was so good that Mark and Ebony became envious. The seaman was
obliging. He set to work and made a pair of nether garments for both.
Mark wore his pair stuffed into the legs of a pair of Wellington boots
procured from a trader. Ebony preferred to cut his off short, just
below the knee, thus exposing to view those black boots supplied to
negroes by Nature, which have the advantage of never wearing out.
Hockins himself stuck to his navy shirt, but the others found striped
cotton shirts sufficient. A native straw hat on Mark's head and a silk
scarf round his waist, with a cavalry pistol in it, enhanced the
brigand-like aspect of his costume.
This pistol was their only fire-arm, the gun having been broken beyond
repair, but each carried a spear in one hand, a gauze butterfly-net in
the other, and a basket, in lieu of a specimen-box, on his shoulder.
Even the Secretary, entering into the spirit of the thing; carried a net
and pursued the butterflies with the ardour of a boy.
"Oh! massa," exclaimed Ebony, wiping the perspiration from his forehead
with a bunch of grass, "I _do_ lub science!"
"Indeed, why so?" asked Mark, sitting down on a bank opposite his
friend.
"Why, don't you see, massa, it's not comfortabil for a man what's got
any feelin's to go troo de land huntin' an' killin' cattle an' oder
brutes for _noting_. You can't eat more nor one hox--p'r'aps not dat.
So w'en you've kill 'im an' eaten so much as you can, dar's no more fun,
for what fun is dere in slaughterin' hoxes for _noting_? Den, if you
goes arter bees an' butterflies on'y for fun, w'y you git shamed ob
yourself. On'y a chile do dat. But science, dat put 'im all right!
Away you goes arter de bees and butterflies an' tings like mad--ober de
hills an' far away--troo de woods, across de ribbers--sometimes into
'em!--crashin' an' smashin' like de bull in de china-shop, wid de proud
feelin' bustin' your buzzum dat you're advancin' de noble cause ob
science--dat's what you call 'im, `noble?'--yes. Well, den you come
home done up, so pleasant like, an' sot down an' fix de critters up wid
pins an' gum an' sitch-like, and arter dat you show 'em to your larned
friends an' call 'em awrful hard names, (sometimes dey seem like _bad_
names!) an'--oh! I _do_ lub science! It's wot I once heard a captin ob
a ribber steamer in de States call a safety-balve wot lets off a deal o'
'uman energy. He was a-sottin on his own safety-balve at de time, so he
ought to have know'd suffin about it."
"I say, Ebony," asked Hockins, "where did you pick up so much larnin'
about science--eh?"
"I pick 'im in Texas--was 'sistant to a German nat'ralist dar for two
year. Stuck to 'im like a limpit till he a-most busted hisself by
tumblin' into a swamp, smashin' his spectacles, an' ketchin' fever, w'en
he found hisself obleeged to go home to recroot--he called it--though
what dat was I nebber rightly understood, unless it was drinkin' brandy
an' water; for I noticed that w'en he said he needed to recroot, he
allers had a good stiff pull at de brandy bottle."
Ebony's discourse was here cut short by the sudden appearance of an
enormous butterfly, which the excitable negro dashed after at a
breakneck pace in the interests of science. The last glimpse they had
of him, as he disappeared among the trees, was in a somewhat peculiar
attitude, with his head down and his feet in the air!
"That's a sign he has missed him," remarked Hockins, beginning to fill
his pipe--the tobacco, not the musical, one! "I've always observed that
when Ebony becomes desperate, and knows he can't git hold of the thing
he's arter, he makes a reckless plunge, with a horrible yell, goes right
down by the head, and disappears like a harpooned whale."
"True, but have you not also observed," said Mark, "that like the whale
he's sure to come to the surface again--sooner or later--and generally
with the object of pursuit in possession?"
"I b'lieve you're right, doctor," said the seaman, emitting a prolonged
puff of smoke.
"Does he always go mad like that?" asked the Secretary, who was much
amused.
"Usually," replied Mark, "but he is generally madder than that. He's in
comparatively low spirits to-day. Perhaps it is the heat that affects
him. Whew! how hot it is! I think I shall take a bath in the first
pool we come to."
"That would only make you hotter, sir," said Hockins. "I've often tried
it. At first, no doubt, when you gits into the water it cools you, but
arter you come out you git hotter than before. A _hot_ bath is the
thing to cool you comfortably."
"But we can't get a hot bath here," returned Mark.
"You are wrong," said the Secretary, "we have many natural hot springs
in our land. There is one not far from here."
"How far?" asked Mark with some interest.
"About two rice-cookings off."
To dispel the reader's perplexity, we may explain at once that in
Madagascar they measure distances by the time occupied in cooking a pot
of rice. As that operation occupies about half-an-hour, the Secretary
meant that the hot spring was distant about two half-hours--that is,
between three and four miles off.
"Let's go an' git into it at once," suggested Hockins.
"Better wait for Ebony," said Mark. Then--to the Secretary--"Yours is a
very interesting and wonderful country!"
"It is, and I wonder not that European nations wish to get possession of
it--but that shall _never_ be."
Mark replied, "I hope not," and regarded his friend with some surprise,
for he had spoken with emphasis, and evidently strong feeling. "Have
you fear that any of the nations wish to have your country?"
"Yes, we have fear," returned the Secretary, with an unwontedly stern
look. "They have tried it before; perhaps they will try it again. But
they will fail. Has not God given us the land? Has not He moved the
hearts of Engleesh men to send to us the Bible? Has not his Holy Spirit
inclined our hearts to receive that Word? Yes--it has come. It is
planted. It _must_ grow. The European nations cannot hinder it.
Ranavalona cannot stamp it out. False friends and open foes cannot
crush it. The Word of God will civilise us. We will rise among the
nations of the earth when the love of Jesus spreads among us--for that
love cures every evil. It inclines as well as teaches us to deny self
and do good. It is not possible for man to reach a higher point than
that! Deny self! Do good! We are slow to learn, but it is _sure_ to
come at last, for is it not written that `the knowledge of the Lord
shall cover the earth as the waters cover the sea'?"
"I believe you are right," said Mark, much impressed with this outburst
and the earnest enthusiasm of his friend's manner. "And," he continued,
"you have a noble country to work on--full of earth's riches."
"You say noting but the truth," answered the Secretary in a gratified
tone. "Is not our island as big--or more big--as yours--nearly the same
as France? And look around! We have thousands of cattle, tame and
wild, with which even now we send large supplies to foreign markets, and
fowls innumerable, both wild and tame. Our soil is rich and prolific.
Are not our vegetables and fruits innumerable and abundant? Do not
immense forests traverse our island in all directions, full of trees
that are of value to man--trees fit for building his houses and ships
and for making his beautiful furniture, as well as those that supply
cocoa-nuts, and figs, and fruits, and gums, and dyes? And have we not
the silkworm in plenty, and cotton-plants, and sugar-cane, and many
spices, and the great food-supply of our people--rice, besides minerals
which make nations rich, such as iron and gold? Yes, we have everything
that is desirable and good for man. But we have a climate which does
not suit the white man. Yet _some_ white men, like yourself, manage to
live here. Is not this a voice, from God? He does not speak to us with
the tongue of man, but He speaks with a still, small voice, as easy to
understand. He has surrounded our island with unhealthy shores. Does
not that tell the white man not to come here? Your London Missionary
Society sent us the Bible. God bless them for that! They have done
well. But they have done enough. We desire not the interference of
England or France in our affairs. We do not want your divisions, your
sects. We have the Word. God will do the rest. We want no white
nations to _protect_ us. We want to be let alone to protect and develop
ourselves, with the Bible for our guide and the Holy Spirit as our
teacher. You Englishmen were savages once, and the Word of God came and
raised you. You only continue to be great because the Bible keeps you
still in the right path. What it has done for you it will do for us.
All we ask for is to be let alone!"
The Secretary had become quite excited on this theme, and there is no
saying how much longer he might have gone on if Ebony had not returned,
scratched, bruised, bleeding, panting and perspiring, but jubilant, with
an enormous butterfly captive in his net, and the cause of science
advanced.
Having secured the specimen, they set off at once to visit the hot
springs, after pricking a traveller's tree with a spear and obtaining a
refreshing draught of cool clear water therefrom.
Fountains of mineral waters have been found in many, parts of
Madagascar, and among them several which are called Rano-mafana, or
"warm waters." These vary both in temperature and medicinal properties.
The spot when reached was found to be a small cavity in the rocks which
was delightfully shaded by the leaves of the wild fig, and by a number
of interwoven and overhanging bamboos. The branches of the fig-trees
spread directly across the stream.
Hastening to the fountain, Hockins thrust his hand in, but quickly
pulled it out again, for the water was only a few degrees below the
boiling-point.
"Too hot to bathe in!" he said.
"But not too hot _here_," remarked Ebony, going to a pool a little
further from the fountain-head, where the water had cooled somewhat.
There the negro dropped his simple garments, and was soon rolling like a
black porpoise in his warm bath. It was only large enough for one, but
close to it was another small pool big enough for several men. There
Mark and Hockins were soon disporting joyously, while the Secretary
looked on and laughed. Evidently he did not in the circumstances deem
warm water either a necessity or a luxury.
That evening, after returning to camp, Mark was summoned to lay the
result of his labours before the Queen, who was much interested in his
collection of plants, and not a little amused with his collection of
insects; for she could understand the use of the medicines which her
Court Physician assured her could be extracted from the former, but
could see no sense whatever in collecting winged and creeping things,
merely to be stuck on pins and looked at and saddled with
incomprehensible names! She did indeed except the gorgeous butterflies,
and similar creatures, because these were pretty; but on the whole she
felt disposed to regard her physician as rather childish in that
particular taste.
Very different was her opinion of John Hockins. So fond was she of the
flageolet of that musical and stalwart tar that she sent for him almost
every evening and made him pipe away to her until he almost fell asleep
at his duty, so that at last he began to wish that flageolets had never
been invented.
"It's nothin' but blow, blow, blow, day arter day," he growled as he
returned to his tent one night and flung down the little instrument in
disgust. "I wish it had bin blow'd up the time your big Roman candle
busted, doctor."
"If it had been, your influence with the Queen would have been gone,
John."
"Well, I dun-know, sir. Many a queer gale I've come through in time
past, but this blow beats 'em all to sticks an' whistles."
"Nebber mind, 'Ockins," remarked Ebony, who was busy preparing supper at
the time, "we's habbin good times ob it just now. Plenty fun an' lots
ob science! Come--go at your wittles. We've hard work besides fun
before us demorrow."
Ebony was a true prophet in regard to the hard work, but not as to the
fun, of the morrow; for it so happened that two events occurred which
threw a dark cloud over the expedition, for some, at least, in the royal
procession, and induced the Queen to return to the capital sooner than
she had intended.
The first of these events was the discovery of a party of sixteen
fugitives who were of suspicious character and unable to give account of
themselves.
They had been discovered by the Queen's spies hidden in a rice-house.
When brought before the officer who examined them, they were at first
silent; when pressed, they spoke a little, but nothing of importance
could be gathered from them. At last they seemed to make up their minds
to acknowledge who they were, for one of them stood forth boldly and
said--
"Since you ask us again and again, we will tell you. We are not robbers
or murderers. We are praying people. If this makes us guilty in the
kingdom of the Queen, then, whatsoever she does, we must submit to
suffer. We are ready to die for the name of the Lord Jesus."
"Is this, then," asked the officer, "your final answer, whether for life
or death?"
"It is our final answer, whether for life or for death."
When this was reported to the Queen, all her anger was stirred up again.
She ordered the captives to be chained and sent off at once to
Antananarivo. Two of the band managed to escape that night, but the
other fourteen were safely lodged in prison.
The countenance of Ranavalona was now changed. She took no pleasure in
Mark's collections, and sent no more for the musical seaman. To make
matters worse, there came in, on the following day, a report that some
of her soldiers had captured a large band of fugitives in a distant part
of the country, and were then marching them in chains to the capital.
As this band was at the time approaching, the Queen gave orders to halt
on an eminence that overlooked the path along which they had to travel,
that she might see them.
It was about noon when they drew near-worn, weary, and footsore. The
Queen was so placed among the bushes that she could see the captives
without being herself seen. Her chief officers stood near her. Mark
and his companions had taken up a position much nearer to the forest
path.
First came a band of weary little ones, driven onwards like a flock of
sheep, and apparently too much terrified by what they had undergone to
make much noise, although most of them were weeping. Next came a group
of women. These, like the children, were not bound, but the men, who
walked in rear, were chained together--two and two. Soldiers guarded
them on every side.
"It is profoundly sad!" said Mark, in a deep sorrowful tone. "God help
them!"
"Massa," whispered Ebony, "look dar! Sure I knows some ob--"
He stopped and opened wide his eyes, for at that moment he recognised
Rafaravavy and Ramatoa among the women. With something like a groan,
Hockins turned a glance on his comrades and pointed to the men. They
required no second glance to enlighten them, for there they plainly saw
Ravonino heavily ironed by the neck to Laihova, and Razafil, the poet,
chained to the chief, Voalavo. Many others whom they did not know were
also there. These all trudged along with bowed heads and eyes on the
ground, like men who, having gone through terrible mental and physical
agony, have either become callous or resigned to their fate.
As the Queen had given orders to her people to keep quiet and out of
sight, the poor captives knew nothing of the host that gazed at them.
Mark and his friends were so horrified that all power to move or speak
failed them for a time. As for Ranavalona, she sat in rigid silence,
like a bronze statue, with compressed lips and frowning brows, until
they had passed. Then she gave orders to encamp where they stood, and
retired in silence to her tent.