rise, they ascertained to be white men.
They proved to be two of those strange and fearless wanderers of the
wilderness, the trappers. Their names were Benjamin Jones and Alexander
Carson. They had been for two years past hunting and trapping near the
head of the Missouri, and were thus floating for thousands of miles in
a cockle-shell, down a turbulent stream, through regions infested by
savage tribes, yet apparently as easy and unconcerned as if navigating
securely in the midst of civilization.

The acquisition of two such hardy, experienced, and dauntless hunters
was peculiarly desirable at the present moment. They needed but little
persuasion. The wilderness is the home of the trapper; like the sailor,
he cares but little to which point of the compass he steers; and Jones
and Carson readily abandoned their voyage to St. Louis, and turned their
faces towards the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific.

The two naturalists, Mr. Bradbury and Mr. Nuttall, who had joined
the expedition at St. Louis, still accompanied it, and pursued their
researches on all occasions. Mr. Nuttall seems to have been exclusively
devoted to his scientific pursuits. He was a zealous botanist, and
all his enthusiasm was awakened at beholding a new world, as it were,
opening upon him in the boundless prairies, clad in the vernal and
variegated robe of unknown flowers. 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 a