The Canadian Voyageurs, Who Are A Class Of People That Know
Nothing Out Of Their Immediate Line, And With Constitutional
Levity Make A Jest Of Anything They Cannot Understand, Were
Extremely Puzzled By This Passion For Collecting What They
Considered Mere Useless Weeds.
When they saw the worthy botanist
coming back heavy laden with his specimens, and treasuring them
up as carefully as a miser would his hoard, they used to make
merry among themselves at his expense, regarding him as some
whimsical kind of madman.
Mr. Bradbury was less exclusive in his tastes and habits, and
combined the hunter and sportsman with the naturalist. He took
his rifle or his fowling-piece with him in his geological
researches, conformed to the hardy and rugged habits of the men
around him, and of course gained favor in their eyes. He had a
strong relish for incident and adventure, was curious in
observing savage manners, and savage life, and ready to join any
hunting or other excursion. Even now, that the expedition was
proceeding through a dangerous neighborhood, he could not check
his propensity to ramble. Having observed, on the evening of the
22d of May, that the river ahead made a great bend which would
take up the navigation of the following day, he determined to
profit by the circumstance. On the morning of the 23d, therefore,
instead of embarking, he filled his shot-pouch with parched corn,
for provisions, and set off to cross the neck on foot and meet
the boats in the afternoon at the opposite side of the bend.
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