Westward and westward went our travellers. From the Missouri River, the train crept gently up the slope of the Rocky Mountains, till it halted to take breath at the summit of the Pass, more than eight thousand feet above the level of the sea. Then, speeding on over the Laramie Plains, down into the great basin of Utah, winding through the green carpet of Echo Cañon, skirting the shores of Great Salt Lake, shooting like a sunbeam over the wastes of the alkali desert, climbing the Sierra Nevada, darting through the snow-sheds and tunnels, descending the western slope to the level of the Pacific, it came to a halt at Oakland, on the shore of San Francisco Bay. The last morning of their journey our travellers were among the snows on the summit of the Sierras; at noon they were breathing the warm air of the lowlands of California, and before sundown they were looking out through the Golden Gate upon the blue waters of the great Western ocean. Nowhere else in the world does the railway bring all the varieties of climate more closely together. [Illustration: VIEW AT CAPE HORN, CENTRAL PACIFIC RAILWAY.] San Francisco, the City by the Sea, was full of interest for our young adventurers. They walked and rode through its streets; they climbed its steep hill-sides; they gazed at its long lines of magnificent buildings; they went to the Cliff House, and saw the sea-lions by dozens and hundreds, within easy rifle-shot of their breakfast-table; they steamed over the bay, where the navies of the world might find safe anchorage; they had a glimpse of the Flowery Kingdom, in the Chinese quarter; and they wondered at the vegetable products of the Golden State as they found them in the market-place. Long letters were written home, and before they had studied California to their satisfaction it was time for them to set sail for what Fred called "the under-side of the world." [Illustration: SEAL-ROCKS, SAN FRANCISCO.] CHAPTER III. ON THE PACIFIC OCEAN. Officers and men were at their posts, and the good steamer _Oceanic_ was ready for departure. It was a few minutes before noon. As the first note was sounded on the bell, the gangway plank was drawn in. "One," "two," "three," "four," "five," "six," "seven," "eight," rang out from the sonorous metal. [Illustration: DEPARTURE FROM SAN FRANCISCO.] The captain gave the order to cast off the lines. Hardly had the echo of his words ceased before the lines had fallen. Then he rang the signal to the engineer, and the great screw began to revolve beneath the stern of the ship. Promptly at the advertised time the huge craft was under way. The crowd on the dock cheered as she moved slowly on, and they cheered again as she gathered speed and ploughed the water into a track of foam. The cheers grew fainter and fainter; faces and forms were no longer to be distinguished; the waving of hats and kerchiefs ceased; the long dock became a speck of black against the hilly shore, and the great city faded from sight.