And now, as we reached the oft-trodden route between Antanànarìvo and Fianàrantsòa, this record may come to a close. We arrived safely at the capital on 5th August, having been away nearly eleven weeks, and having travelled by palanquin, on foot, and in canoes, more than nine hundred miles. [Sidenote: FIREFLIES] [30] These fireflies are not seen in the interior except in two or three localities, where portions of the original forest still cover the mountains on which old towns were built. I have seen them at Vòhilèna, a hill about fifteen hundred feet high, near the valley of the Mànanàra river, in North Imèrina. CHAPTER XXII TO SÀKALÀVA LAND AND THE NORTH-WEST As the contents of former chapters in this book show, I was able on various occasions during the first few years of residence in Madagascar to make journeys in different directions: from the east coast to the interior; from Imèrina to Antsihànaka; from Imèrina again to Bétsiléo and from thence to the south-east, visiting the Tanàla, the Taimòro, and other tribes in that part of the island, not to mention shorter journeys in the central province itself, to Itàsy and other places. But the north-west of the country and the districts occupied by the Sàkalàva people were still unknown to me, so I was glad when in 1877 there came the opportunity of traversing this portion of the great island. For a long time past Tamatave had been—as it still is—the most frequented port of Madagascar, but the western ports, from their proximity to South Africa, were sure to increase in importance. Not very long before the above-mentioned date, the British India Steam Navigation Company had begun a service of steamers from Aden to Mozambique, touching at Mojangà, on the north-west coast, both on the outward and the return journeys. This appeared to give Europeans living here a good opportunity of reaching England, avoiding the unpleasant experience of the “bullocker” (see Chapter II.), between Tamatave and Port Louis, and taking a mail steamer direct from Madagascar. As we were leaving this country for Europe in September 1877, we determined to take this new route, which, although a little longer than that by Tamatave, was far less difficult, besides being partly by canoes, and the last day or two by a dhow, thus giving a pleasant variety to the journey. Our party consisted of seven, including my wife and self and three children—Willie, aged six; May, aged three, and a baby girl of ten months—Frank Briggs, about the same age as our boy, whom we were taking home (his father joined us a day or two later), and my former fellow-traveller, Mr Louis Street. I ought also to include a Mozambique nurse, one of those African slaves recently set free, in accordance with an agreement made between the English and the Malagasy governments.