Proceeding up the main street—a sandy road bordered by enclosures containing the stores of a few European traders—we came to the house of the British Vice-Consul. Here I found Mr Samuel Procter, who was subsequently the head for many years of one of the chief trading houses in the island, and also Mr F. Plant, a gentleman employed by the authorities of the British Museum to collect specimens of natural history in the then almost unknown country. From them I learned that a missionary party which had preceded me from Mauritius had left only two days previously for the capital, and that Mr Plant had kindly undertaken to accompany me on the journey for the greater part of the distance to Antanànarìvo. At first we thought of setting off on that same evening, so as to overtake our friends, but finding that this would involve much fatigue, we finally decided to wait for two or three days and take more time to prepare for the novel experiences of a Madagascar journey. In a little while I was domiciled at Mr Procter’s store, where I was hospitably entertained during my stay in Tamatave. The afternoon of my first day on shore was occupied in seeing after the landing of my baggage. This was no easy or pleasant task; the long rolling swell from the ocean made the transfer of large wooden cases from the vessel to the canoes a matter requiring considerable dexterity. More than once I expected to be swamped, and that through the rolling of the ship the packages would be deposited at the bottom of the harbour. It was therefore with great satisfaction that I saw all my property landed safely on the beach. [Sidenote: THE BULLOCKER]