Erewhon Revisited | Page 9

you may want to ask me questions, and I shall not be here much
longer. Let publishing wait till you are confident that publication can do no harm; and
above all, say nothing to betray the whereabouts of Erewhon, beyond admitting (which I
fear I have already done) that it is in the Southern hemisphere."

These instructions I have religiously obeyed. For the first days after his return, my father
had few attacks of loss of memory, and I was in hopes that his former health of mind
would return when he found himself in his old surroundings. During these days he poured
forth the story of his adventures so fast, that if I had not had a fancy for acquiring
shorthand, I should not have been able to keep pace with him. I repeatedly urged him not
to overtax his strength, but he was oppressed by the fear that if he did not speak at once,
he might never be able to tell me all he had to say; I had, therefore, to submit, though
seeing plainly enough that he was only hastening the complete paralysis which he so
greatly feared.
Sometimes his narrative would be coherent for pages together, and he could answer any
questions without hesitation; at others, he was now here and now there, and if I tried to
keep him to the order of events he would say that he had forgotten intermediate incidents,
but that they would probably come back to him, and I should perhaps be able to put them
in their proper places.
After about ten days he seemed satisfied that I had got all the facts, and that with the help
of the pamphlets which he had brought with him I should be able to make out a
connected story. "Remember," he said, "that I thought I was quite well so long as I was in
Erewhon, and do not let me appear as anything else."
When he had fully delivered himself, he seemed easier in his mind, but before a month
had passed he became completely paralysed, and though he lingered till the beginning of
June, he was seldom more than dimly conscious of what was going on around him.
His death robbed me of one who had been a very kind and upright elder brother rather
than a father; and so strongly have I felt his influence still present, living and working, as
I believe for better within me, that I did not hesitate to copy the epitaph which he saw in
the Musical Bank at Fairmead, {1} and to have it inscribed on the very simple monument
which he desired should alone mark his grave.
* * *
The foregoing was written in the summer of 1891; what I now add should be dated
December 3, 1900. If, in the course of my work, I have misrepresented my father, as I
fear I may have sometimes done, I would ask my readers to remember that no man can
tell another's story without some involuntary misrepresentation both of facts and
characters. They will, of course, see that "Erewhon Revisited" is written by one who has
far less literary skill than the author of "Erewhon;" but again I would ask indulgence on
the score of youth, and the fact that this is my first book. It was written nearly ten years
ago, i.e. in the months from March to August 1891, but for reasons already given it could
not then be made public. I have now received permission, and therefore publish the
following chapters, exactly, or very nearly exactly, as they were left when I had finished
editing my father's diaries, and the notes I took down from his own mouth--with the
exception, of course, of these last few lines, hurriedly written as I am on the point of
leaving England, of the additions I made in 1892, on returning from my own three hours'
stay in Erewhon, and of the Postscript.


CHAPTER II

: TO THE FOOT OF THE PASS INTO EREWHON

When my father reached the colony for which he had left England some twenty-two years
previously, he bought a horse, and started up country on the evening of the day after his
arrival, which was, as I have said, on one of the last days of November 1890. He had
taken an English saddle with him, and a couple of roomy and strongly made saddle-bags.
In these he packed his money, his nuggets, some tea, sugar, tobacco, salt, a flask of
brandy, matches, and as many ship's biscuits as he thought he was likely to want; he took
no meat, for he could supply himself from some accommodation-house or sheep-station,
when nearing the point after which he would have to begin camping out. He rolled his