difficulties that had opposed them. Some few, however, had not returned,
and though search was made for them, their bodies had not been found.
When he reached Erewhon on his second visit, my father learned that
others had attempted to visit the country more recently--probably quite
independently of his own book; and before he had himself been in it many
hours he gathered what the fate of these poor fellows doubtless was.

Another reason that made it more easy for Erewhon to remain unknown, was
the fact that the more mountainous districts, though repeatedly
prospected for gold, had been pronounced non-auriferous, and as there was
no sheep or cattle country, save a few river-bed flats above the upper
gorges of any of the rivers, and no game to tempt the sportsman, there
was nothing to induce people to penetrate into the fastnesses of the
great snowy range. No more, therefore, being heard of Erewhon, my
father's book came to be regarded as a mere work of fiction, and I have
heard quite recently of its having been seen on a second-hand bookstall,
marked "6d. very readable."

Though there was no truth in the stories about my father's being subject
to attacks of alcoholic poisoning, yet, during the first few years after
his return to England, his occasional fits of ungovernable excitement
gave some colour to the opinion that much of what he said he had seen and
done might be only subjectively true. I refer more particularly to his
interview with Chowbok in the wool-shed, and his highly coloured
description of the statues on the top of the pass leading into Erewhon.
These were soon set down as forgeries of delirium, and it was maliciously
urged, that though in his book he had only admitted having taken "two or
three bottles of brandy" with him, he had probably taken at least a
dozen; and that if on the night before he reached the statues he had
"only four ounces of brandy" left, he must have been drinking heavily for