The seasons in the central regions of the island are practically only two: the hot and rainy period, from the beginning of November to the end of April; and the cool and dry period, during the other months, from May to October. The Malagasy are, however, accustomed to speak of four seasons of their year—viz. the _Lòhataona_—_i.e._ “head of the year”—during September and October, when the planting of the early rice is going on, and a few showers give promise of the coming rains; the _Fàhavàratra_—_i.e._ “thunder-time”—when severe storms of thunder and lightning are frequent, with heavy downpours of rain, from the early part of November to the end of February or into March; the _Fàraràno_—_i.e._ “last rains”—from the beginning of March and through April; and lastly, the _Rinìnina_—_i.e._ “time of bareness”—when the grass becomes dry and withered, from June to August. Taking therefore the seasons in order, from the beginning, not of January, which gives no natural division of the year, but from the early part of September, when the blossoms of the trees speak of the “good time coming” of renewed verdure, I shall note down, in their succession, the varying aspects of the country, in climate, vegetation, and culture of the soil, as well as the animal life, throughout the changing year. [Sidenote: “THE HEART OF IMÈRINA”] Before, however, proceeding to do this, it may give greater distinctness to the mental picture I want to draw for those who have never been in Madagascar, if I try to describe in a few words the appearance of this central province of the island, especially of that portion of it which is in the neighbourhood of the capital. From the usually pure and clear air of this elevated region, which is not defiled by the smoke of chimneys, nor often thickened by the mists of the lowlands, one can see for extraordinary distances, and hills and rocks twenty or thirty miles away stand out more sharp and distinct than they would usually do in England at only four or five miles’ distance.