Whenever the boats landed at meal
times, or for any temporary purpose, he would spring on shore, and set
out on a hunt for new specimens. Every plant or flower of a rare or
unknown species was eagerly seized as a prize. Delighted with the
treasures spreading themselves out before him, he went groping and
stumbling along among the wilderness of sweets, forgetful of everything
but his immediate pursuit, and had often to be sought after when the
boats were about to resume their course. At such times he would be found
far off in the prairies, or up the course of some petty stream, laden
with plants of all kinds.
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.
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