334 
VISITS TO MADAGASCAR. 
CHAP. XII. 
lodge. Here I was most affectionately welcomed by a number 
of friends, with some of whom I had had much pleasant inter¬ 
course on a former occasion, at Tamatave. My meeting and 
intercourse with friends, at this place, was deeply affecting; 
and the accounts I received of the severe afflictions of some, 
and the perils of others, almost deprived me of sleep. 
We were stirring early, and in looking over the village 
nothing struck me as more surprising than the narrow and 
intricate passages between the houses, and from one part to 
another. Here I saw for the first time two pits called faliitra, 
in which oxen are confined and fattened. The pits, which 
were close to the houses, were somewhat larger than the 
animal, and a little deeper than the top of his horns. Over 
one of these a covering of thatch was placed; and the food of 
the animals, fresh wet grass, was placed upon a ledge cut out 
of the clay sides of the pit, in a rude sort of rack. 
Very early in my journey I found that if I left my clothes 
by my bedside at night, they were in danger of being devoured 
by the rats and mice before morning. Cats and owls, being 
considered animals of ill-omen, are not allowed near any house; 
so the rats and mice are left undisturbed, and have it all their 
own way. I had, therefore, been under the necessity of putting 
all my clothes, including cap and great coat, into a bag, and 
hanging them up by a cord to one of the rafters of the house. 
But one night, when in consequence of indisposition I had 
spread my great coat over me for an additional blanket, I 
found in the morning that it had been eaten in several places. 
Even the silk handkerchief spread over my head had suffered 
considerably during the night; but this morning I found to 
my great distress that several parts of a manuscript vocabulary 
which I kept at the head of my palanquin, had been eaten by 
the rats. For the future, therefore, I never ventured to leave 
any book exposed by night. 
We left the village about seven o’clock, passing out by the 
