We saw our kind friend the governor once more on Monday morning; and having said farewell to him and his family, at nine o’clock we continued our journey to the north. After taking a few observations, we noticed with interest that the lofty hill one mile north of the town is volcanic: it is part of an old crater: large portions of one side have been broken away; but abundance of lava is strewn on and around it over a wide space. This is the only specimen of volcanic action we have found in all the district. The line of that action lies in general farther west. And the nearest volcanic hills are on the north-west shoulder of the island, in the island of Nosibe and the great hills opposite to it on the mainland. Bounding the volcano to the eastward, we came into the level bay between the main hills and the promontory outside. We passed four small villages, crossed a stream running south by which the western hills and this level are drained, and close to a spur of the promontory, came to a large village, Móraráno, with seventy houses, and a little neighbour, Marafotsy, with thirty more. We next climbed the promontory itself, which was to be our road for many miles: and from a high point on the ridge had a beautiful view of the district. On another lofty hill, having a single thorn tree, we found an excellent station, which we named One Tree Hill. We had long since left all population behind. We saw not a house for several hours. Indeed we saw neither house nor people from Móraráno to our resting-place. The fact is very significant, and shows the two directions from a common point in which the province has been peopled. Our men and ourselves took the refreshment we had brought with us on the hill-side; and then pressed forward to our destination. We descended into the swamp once more, crossed two of its north-western arms; then rounded the corner of the province, kept under its northern hills, over a grassy plain, full of cattle; and at four o’clock reached the village of Ambóhijánaháry. It was the poorest place we had yet seen, and looked dirty and unkempt in every way. They told us it had recently been burned down: a great calamity in a country and to a people where the accumulation of capital goes on so slowly. The calamity alas! is of frequent occurrence in these country towns and is natural. The houses are built of wood and reeds, and are thatched with leaves or straw. The kitchen fire inside and the hot sun without dry up every particle of moisture from these substances and turn them into huge tinder-boxes: while the people are extremely careless about fire. As Earl Russell justly said about the cities of Japan: “If people build their cities of bamboos and brown paper, can they wonder if they are burned down?”