What was he to say when people asked him, as they were sure to do, how he
was living? And how was he to get enough Erewhonian money to keep him
going till he could find some safe means of selling a few of his nuggets?
He had had a little Erewhonian money when he went up in the balloon, but
had thrown it over, with everything else except the clothes he wore and
his MSS., when the balloon was nearing the water. He had nothing with
him that he dared offer for sale, and though he had plenty of gold, was
in reality penniless.

When, therefore, he saw the quails, he again felt as though some friendly
spirit was smoothing his way before him. What more easy than to sell
them at Coldharbour (for so the name of the town in which he had been
imprisoned should be translated), where he knew they were a delicacy, and
would fetch him the value of an English shilling a piece?

It took him between two and three hours to catch two dozen. When he had
thus got what he considered a sufficient stock, he tied their legs
together with rushes, and ran a stout stick through the whole lot. Soon
afterwards he came upon a wood of stunted pines, which, though there was
not much undergrowth, nevertheless afforded considerable shelter and
enabled him to gather wood enough to make himself a good fire. This was
acceptable, for though the days were long, it was now evening, and as
soon as the sun had gone the air became crisp and frosty.

Here he resolved to pass the night. He chose a part where the trees were
thickest, lit his fire, plucked and cleaned four quails, filled his billy
with water from the stream hard by, made tea in his pannikin, grilled two
of his birds on the embers, ate them, and when he had done all this, he
lit his pipe and began to think things over. "So far so good," said he