The place was wholly unknown to us. We had only its name in Grandidier’s map and on our list of native church stations. It proved a spot full of interest. The pastor of the church was a devoted, active worker; the school children were full of life and intelligence; and the congregation and its neighbours were striving to make progress in the knowledge and practice of their new faith. They gave us a warm welcome: and as they had not seen an Englishman’s face for five years, and entreated us to spend the Sabbath with them, we had no difficulty in so doing. Saturday was a busy day. Mr. Sibree examined the school children. We visited together a high hill to the northward to take bearings: photographed the village and the ravine of the river; and attended to a large number of patients. The village is built on a high clay hill: it contains seventy houses with a population of less than four hundred souls; and the usual complement of fowls and pigs. The prospect from the chapel was very fine. To the north were high wooded hills. Beneath us to the west was the basin of the river, which wound through it with the most graceful bends: and the edges of the basin, and its numerous cuttings were curved with such beautiful lines, as made it certain that the place had been formed by running water, and was at one time a portion of a great lake. The river Mananára is here a hundred and fourteen feet wide, from two to five feet deep, and runs with a strong and rapid stream. It is crossed by a fixed bridge in two spans: each span being composed of three balks of timber of a scantling of eighteen inches by sixteen. We had seen the fountains of this fine river near Ambatomena: where they water one of the largest rice fields in all Imerina and feed some five thousand human beings. We found with interest that the population of this basin are closely connected with the people of Ambatomena and its neighbourhood.