Travelling again towards the shore, we passed for some time through country which was like a beautiful shrubbery, with low trees, amongst which the _vòavòntaka_, with its perfectly globular green or yellow fruit, the size of a large orange, was very plentiful and conspicuous. There was also a tree, the _karàbo_, having enormous pods with seeds like beans, but from two to three inches in diameter. We passed fresh evidence of volcanic action in ancient streams of lava, with sand and dust from some long extinct crater. Stopping at sunset at a village called Màhavèlona, we found it, notwithstanding its promising name (“causing to live”), the filthiest spot we had seen in all our journey, quite worthy of the name given by a friend to a place he stopped at, of “the well-dunged village.” We could find no space where the tent could be pitched, and so began to look for a house. There was one in the centre of the village that looked of fair size, but the difficulty was, how to get to it, for it was surrounded for a considerable distance by a slough of mud and cow-dung that took our men nearly up to their knees. Happily there were a few stout planks lying near, and with these we made a causeway over the bog. [Sidenote: THE TRAVELLER’S TREE] The following day, while waiting in the belt of wood bordering the shore, we had an opportunity of testing the accuracy of accounts given of the water procurable from the traveller’s tree, about which, although backed by the authority of Mr Ellis, and an illustration in his “Three Visits to Madagascar,” I had always felt rather sceptical, as somewhat of “a traveller’s tale.” In fact I had never before seen the tree where plenty of good water was not to be had; but here there was none for several miles except the stagnant, brackish and offensive water of the lagoon. (Even my friend, Baron, says that the tree is always found where good water is procurable.) But we found that on piercing with a spear or a pointed stick the lower part of one of the leaf-stalks, where they all clasp one over the other, a small stream of water spurted out, from which one could drink to the full of good, cool, and sweet water. If one of the outer leaf-stalks was forcibly pulled down, a quantity of water gushed out, so that we afterwards filled a vessel with as much as we needed. On examining a section of one of the stalks, a hollow channel about half-an-inch in diameter is seen running all down the inner side of the stalk from the base of the leaf. The large cool surface of the leaves appears to collect the water condensed from the atmosphere, and this is conducted by the little channel downward to the base. The leaf-stalks are all full of cells and of water, like those of the banana. After three hours’ walking along the shore in the heavy sand, with a hot sun overhead, we were grateful to be able to draw from these numberless vegetable springs, and we thanked God for the traveller’s tree; we felt that its name was no misnomer.