176 THE ODYSSEY OF AN ANIMAL COLLECTOR 
corners broody hens sit complacently on their eggs while scraggy 
dogs wait hungrily outside for scrapings from the rice-pots. Rats 
and mice are outnumbered only by fleas and other vermin. In 
these sordid surroundings the forest-dwelling Betsimisaraka ekes 
out his miserable existence with apparently no desire for any- 
thing better. 
On the whole the Malagasy people prefer living in open places 
where the forest has been destroyed and so where there is grass- 
land for their cattle, which are more or less sacred. Even the 
forest-dwelling tribes incline to living on the edge of the forest 
or in very large clearings. There are two reasons for this. Firstly 
the primitive forest is an awe-inspiring place to the average native, 
especially at night, for then all sorts of beings (albeit mythical) 
are on the move. These have special names and are usually mal- 
formed or grotesque in shape and are all of evil intent. Secondly, 
the wild pig makes life exceedingly difficult in any forest village, 
for at night he emerges from his secluded retreat and plunders 
the natives’ crops, doing tremendous damage. This could easily be 
prevented by fencing, but the natives, anything but industrious, 
have not even the enterprise to safeguard their own food. An 
easier method for them, but less effective, is to rely on their mangy 
half-starved dogs to keep the wild pigs away. Unless the cultiva- 
tions are in the immediate vicinity of a village this is of little 
avail, for dogs have a great respect for the Jambo, as the Malagasy 
call it, and will not readily attack it unless in a big troop. 
The dogs serve another important function. They keep away 
the numerous brigands, witches, demons, and ghouls that haunt 
the Malagasy mind, and so enable him to sleep in peace. The poor 
dog, in return for this service, is entirely neglected. He is never 
petted or fed. Whenever I threw food-scraps out of my hut there 
was an unbelievable scramble of dogs and fowls to the spot with 
such speed that the opposing forces invariably collided, but soon 
spread out again, when the most powerful dog snapped wildly 
at everything, getting all the food for himself. It was noticeable 
that every village supported one well-fed dog, for he, being the 
master, terrified the rest whenever rice-scraps were heaved out of 
someone’s door. 
To me it seems a pity that so much effort and money go into 
