Next day we continued along North Vonizongo, and sent our baggage direct to Maháridaza, a few miles distant, where we were to sleep. We ourselves turned aside to climb the lofty ridge of Angavo (4880 feet), which promised numerous and valuable observations. We had a long and heavy climb, but were amply repaid by the prospect we obtained. It was no scene of beauty that spread around us: we looked upon a treeless, empty wilderness: the only population was in the long valley up which we had come. The whole district is within the region of the sedimentary clay: the valleys have been scored out of it by water: and naturally the clay hills are of one height. Looking over the eastern ridge in the direction of the Anátivolo, we could not discern one prominent hill: all the summits were of uniform height. To the west it was the same. The only exception was in portions of ridges like the Angavo on which we stood. This was a grand mass of gneiss; and the bluff at its northern end is a lofty perpendicular precipice, one of the finest rocks we have seen in the country. North of Angavo, the next ridge is unbroken, the valley of North Vonizongo is completely shut in; part of the waters have escaped down the Andránobe on the south-west: the remainder have swirled round the precipice at the head of the ridge, have cut out a beautiful hollow in the northern hills and have escaped along the west side of Angavo, down what is now the valley of the River Antrobo. The ridge itself and others parallel with it trend off to the south-west. To the south Lohavohitra and Tsi-áfa-balála were conspicuous points: and to the north we fixed the position of several prominent hills, near which we subsequently passed. Descending the Angavo ridge on its western side, we crossed the Antrobo, and as we went along saluted the inhabitants of Antándrokomby, a village of forty houses, who came out to meet us. The precipice of Angavo overhangs this village and it looked grand indeed, as we passed close to its foot. Maharidaza we found to be a village of forty-two houses; very dirty and with countless herds of swine. The people were very ignorant but very willing. Some of them had never seen a person write, until Mrs. Pillans showed them how it was done and what meaning it had. It reminded me of the early days of Raiatea, when John Williams, to the astonishment of his people, used “to make chips talk.” They have had but little attention paid to their wants, and although there are chapels all up the valley to this point, the means of instruction at their command have been very scanty. Now however that the organisation of the Imerina Mission has been extended, Mr. Stribling will probably give regular superintendence to all these churches. With them and their neighbours the ordinary population of Northern Imerina in this direction comes to an end.