How they skipped and danced and chattered about the trip!  At last Mamma said, “Well, everything is packed and ready, and we go to-morrow.”  Then what fun it was to stand on the steamer’s deck and sail “right out through the Golden Gate,” as Retta said.  The big green billows of the Pacific Ocean caught the boat as she crossed the outside bar and tossed salt spray almost into their faces.  Little the children cared for the drops of water, for they were so glad to be off on their trip and to say good-by to San Francisco’s summer fog and cold winds for a time.

And there on Seal Rocks, near the Cliff House, were the seals, or rather sea-lions, clumsy creatures like black rubber sacks with fins, or flippers, and a head.  Some were lying in the sun and others crawling up the steep, wet rocks.  Those highest up were asleep and quiet, but most of them kept barking or growling as they tried to find a sunny place to bask in.  Sometimes when frightened these sea-lions will pitch headlong from high rocks into the ocean and dive out of sight at once.  Mrs. Ransom said she remembered seeing one that was kept for years in a salt-water tank, and that, although they seem so clumsy, this sea-lion jumped so quick that he caught a fish thrown to him before it touched the water.  Once fur-seals were in great numbers off our coast, and lived on the rocks as these sea-lions now do.  But Indians, or later on white hunters, killed them, or drove them up north where the crack of the rifle is not heard.

On to the south the steamer sailed through the foaming waters, and as Tom stood watching the white-capped waves go dancing by, he saw, two or three times, a black fin come up, and then another.  At last a man said, “Look at the porpoises playing.”  Tom screamed with delight as they jumped and chased each other till their black, shiny backs were clear out of water.  These fish are sometimes called sea-hogs and are five or six feet long.  Either to get their food of small fish, or in play, they keep swimming and diving near the tops of the breakers.  Fishermen catch them with a strong hook and use the thick, leathery skin for straps or strings, while they try oil out of their blubber or fat.

All that day and night the boat kept steadily on her way, and the next morning they were in Santa Barbara Channel.  It was so pleasant sailing on this summer sea in the soft, warm sunshine that even the sea-sick ladies felt better and came on deck.  Mamma agreed with the children that the steamer trip was much nicer than the hot, dusty cars.  Just then some one called, “See the whale,” and looking quick Tom and Retta saw what seemed a fountain of water rising high in the air about half a mile away.  Soon another went up, and two or three more, for the gray hump-backed whales like this stretch of smooth bay.  They are warm-blooded animals and not fish at all, so they must come to the top of the waves for air to breathe.  The air and water spout out through “blow-holes” on top of the whale’s