A few vessels touch at St. Augustine’s Bay, on the west coast of Madagascar; but the treacherous disposition of the natives is a great objection, and causes the generality to pass on to Johanna, which is the only island of the Comora cluster we have been in the habit of visiting. The strong current setting round its southern extremity, occasions vessels to keep close to the shore as they approach Saddle Island, which, at low water, is connected with Johanna by a ridge of sand, whereon the Huntingdon Indiaman was lost about forty years back, in attempting to pass, without going round Saddle Island; which derives its name from the appearance it bears, when viewed at a certain distance. The whole coast, from the southern point to the bay where the town is situated, presents, with very little exception, a bold shore, divested of those dangerous reefs which render Mohillah, and others of its neighbours, difficult of access. The country is extremely mountainous; in some parts abounding with cocoa and other trees: wild goats are very numerous; but, being much in request among the natives, are very shy, and, in general, retire to the most rugged eminences. To the left of the town, about two miles distant, a long reef of black rocks encloses a bay, of which the beach is covered with a fine sand, shelving very gradually, and bearing a strong resemblance to that of Weymouth.
The houses in the villages on the coast are rather mean, though appertaining to persons who have ridiculously assumed European titles of eminence. The island swarms with ‘Prince Ruperts,’ ‘Prince Eugenes,’ Dukes, Marquises, and Lords, all of whom are mean and knavish to an extreme. The common form of building consists of a long barn-like apartment, entered by a low door in middle of its length, and having another opposite thereto at the back, which leads to the most dirty out-offices that can be imagined; wherein the culinary operations, &c. are carried on. In the dwellings of those who admit lodgers, which may be said to include half the town, the places for sleeping, for I cannot call them bed-places, are raised, towards the two gable-ends, to the height of full six feet; and, in some, are parted off by a curtain of coarse chintz, or other cloth. These recesses are from three to five feet in width, and may be ten or twelve feet long; according to the breadth of the house. The ascent to them is formed by several very broad stairs, ordinarily covered with matting made of cocoa-tree leaves, or, in a few, with carpets. Each step is considered as accommodation for two persons to repose upon, feet to feet: in most instances, however, the steps are not long enough to allow more than one person to lie down. This theatrical arrangement is by no means displeasing, nor is it attended with so much inconvenience as would be the case were the whole upon a level. The middle of the room is set apart for meals, usually served on tables of a wretched construction; the guests sitting, as well as they can, upon little stools, or eventually reclining on the matted floor against the lower steps; which, by the by, is not only the most comfortable, but, among the natives, is considered to be the most decorous, mode.