INTRODUCTION. 
13 
with you as I had. You may be lamed in 
climbing rocks for plants or break your limbs 
by a fall. You must cross and wade through 
brooks, creeks, rivers, and swamps. In deep 
fords or in swift streams you may lose your 
footing and be drowned. You may be overta- 
ken by a storm, the trees fall around you, the 
thunder roars and strikes before you. The 
winds may annoy you, the fire of heaven or of 
men sets fire to the grass or forest, and you may 
be surrounded by it, unless you fly for your 
life. 
You may travel over a unhealthy region or 
in a sickly season, you may fall sick on the road 
and become helpless, unless you be very care- 
ful, abstenious and temperate. 
Such are some of the dangers and troubles 
of a botanical excursion in the mountains and 
forests of North America. The sedentary bo- 
tanists or those who travel in carriages or by 
steamboats, know little of them; those who 
merely herborize near a city or town, do not 
appreciate the courage of those who brave 
such dangers to reap the botanical wealth of 
the land, nor sufficiently value the collections 
thus made. 
Yet although I have felt all those miseries, I 
have escaped some to which others are liable. 
I have never been compelled to sleep at night 
on the ground, but have always found a shel- 
ter. I have never been actually starved, nor 
assailed by snakes or wild beasts, nor robbed, 
nor drowned, nor suddenly unwell. Tempe- 
rance and the disuse of tobacco have partly 
availed me, and always kept me in health. 
In fact 1 never was healthier and happier 
than when I encountered those dangers, while a 
