I will not dilate here upon the beauties of this noble basin, cut out of the clay deposits by the upheavings of earthquakes and the action of powerful streams; or describe its thousands of rice terraces cut in the hill-sides, from which twenty thousand people, year by year, gather their golden harvest. I will pass over our visit to the hot springs; the garden-walls of black lava in the lower villages; the fine cascade of the Loalambo; the royal tombs of the ancient line of Betáfo kings, and the hill-fortress on the south, from which they commanded the country. Nor will I pause to describe the old craters which we found so abundant; the great lava-field in their midst; and the lime-pits and deposits of Sirabé. All these we saw to greater advantage at a later time and learned to understand more fully. Many of the Norwegian brethren were absent also from their spheres of labour, through sickness or on duty; but we visited them again and heard more completely about their work. Only one did we see on our present journey, Mr. Rosaas; and from him and his good wife at Sirabé we received the heartiest welcome. From Sirabé to Ambositra we kept the western road, down the valley of the Mánandóna and found throughout it objects of interest, of which (like most others above referred to) books contain no notice. West of the Mánandóna is a noble granite mass, the hills of Ibéty. The Mánandóna valley is a fine rice plain; and its river has but a narrow outlet through the granite range. When a heavy flood comes suddenly down from the long valleys of Ankárat, the valley is submerged; it “gets a bath,” as the name implies, until the waters can pass off through the ravine to the Mania. Beyond the point where the river goes west, the valley is continued southward between high and precipitous hills. Beyond Ambohimanjáka, again, where we stayed, the valley is covered with huge boulders of graphite granite; and to the south of Iláka and its broad rice basin, the ravines are numerous and deep. We never had in Madagascar a journey so difficult or distressing, as the travel of that long Saturday morning, when we were carried over the narrow paths, up and down the steep ravines which immediately open upon the Mania. But we forgot our troubles and our hunger, when we reached the open valley of the Mania, and saw the waters tumbling in creamy foam over the huge boulders with which for three hundred yards the stream is barred. These boulders form a natural bridge; and we crossed the river, jumping short distances from one to another, while the river ran boiling and foaming between and underneath them. All around us were lofty cones, mountain masses, rugged precipices. The sight was truly grand, and we lingered over it long.