to himself; but hardly had the words passed through his mind before he
was startled by the sound of voices, still at some distance, but
evidently drawing towards him.

He instantly gathered up his billy, pannikin, tea, biscuits, and blanket,
all of which he had determined to discard and hide on the following
morning; everything that could betray him he carried full haste into the
wood some few yards off, in the direction opposite to that from which the
voices were coming, but he let his quails lie where they were, and put
his pipe and tobacco in his pocket.

The voices drew nearer and nearer, and it was all my father could do to
get back and sit down innocently by his fire, before he could hear what
was being said.

"Thank goodness," said one of the speakers (of course in the Erewhonian
language), "we seem to be finding somebody at last. I hope it is not
some poacher; we had better be careful."

"Nonsense!" said the other. "It must be one of the rangers. No one
would dare to light a fire while poaching on the King's preserves. What
o'clock do you make it?"

"Half after nine." And the watch was still in the speaker's hand as he
emerged from darkness into the glowing light of the fire. My father
glanced at it, and saw that it was exactly like the one he had worn on
entering Erewhon nearly twenty years previously.

The watch, however, was a very small matter; the dress of these two men
(for there were only two) was far more disconcerting. They were not in