A few minutes after this, a large boat, pulled by four men, and containing Adam Guy and our three friends, was leaving the side of the steamer, followed by the cheers of the passengers, who had assembled on the decks to bid the little party farewell. The sea was quiet, with the exception of a long and gentle swell, and the first part of the little trip seemed like rowing on a river. But when they neared the shore and saw the long lines of surf rolling in front of them, the boys began to feel a little uneasy. This was something entirely novel to them, and, although they were not exactly afraid, they could not say that they felt altogether comfortable at the idea of going through these roaring breakers. But the surf at this point was not really very high, and the boat was a metallic one, with air compartments at each end, and the men rowed steadily on, appearing to have no more fears of the breakers than of the open sea. As the boat reached the first line of surf and was lifted up and carried swiftly forward on its great back, and then dropped into a watery hollow, to be raised again by another wave and carried still farther on, our boys held tightly to the sides of the boat as if they felt they must stick to that craft, whatever happened. But the men pulled steadily on, keeping the boat’s head straight for the shore. The breakers came rolling on behind as if they would sweep over the boat and cover her up with their dark green water, but another wave seemed always underneath to carry her on beyond the reach of the one which followed, and it was not long before, by the aid of oars and the incoming surf, they gained the beach. Before the wave which had carried them in began to recede, Adam and another man jumped into the water and pulled the boat well up on the sands. Then the whole party disembarked, Chap jumping into water ankle-deep, and giving a shout that might have been heard on the steamer. As soon as the boys’ valises and the other traps had been put ashore, the boat was turned about, and, with Adam’s help, was launched into the surf. The pull back through the breakers was harder than the coming in, but the four men knew their business, and the stanch life-boat easily breasted every line of surf. In five minutes they were out in smooth water and pulling hard for the steamer. As soon as they reached it the boat was hauled up, the vessel was put about, and with a farewell blast from her steam-whistle, she proceeded on her way. “Hurrah!” cried Chap, waving his cap over his head. “Now I feel that we are really our own masters, and that we’re going to have the rarest old time we’ve ever known. Boys, the whole continent is before us!” “That’s the trouble of it,” said Phil. “If there wasn’t quite so much continent before us we might expect to get home sooner.” “Trouble? Home?” cried Chap. “Don’t let anybody mention such things to me. I’m gayer than the larkiest lark that ever flapped himself aloft!”