Browning and Sedgwick reached New York and took passage on the first
outgoing Cunarder. When the ship steamed out of the harbor, it entered at
once into a lively sea, and the great craft grew strangely unsteady.
Browning was a good sailor, but Sedgwick found it was all he could do to
maintain his equanimity. "Jack," he said at last, "this is worse exercise
then riding a Texas steer." "Did you ever ride a Texas steer?" asked
Browning. "Indeed I have," said Sedgwick. "The cowboys have a game
of that kind. When a lot of steers are corraled, they climb up on the
cross-bar over the gate; the gate is opened, the steers are turned out
with a rush, and the science is to drop from the cross-bar upon a steer
and ride him. If you miss, you are liable to be trodden to death. If you
strike fairly, then the trick is to see how long you can hold on. It is
rough exercise, but I believe it is preferable to this perpetual rising,
falling and rolling. The infernal thing seems to work like an Ingersoll
drill. It turns a quarter of a circle on one's stomach with every blow it
strikes."

They had sailed into an expiring storm that was fast losing its strength;
the waves were breaking down, and by the time night came on the ship was
running nearly on an even keel, only gently rolling as it swept
magnificently on its voyage.

The two miners walked the deck, or sat by the rail, until far into the
night, admiring the glorified structure on which they rode; watching the
stars and the sea, and saw with other things the beautiful spectacle of
another ship as grand as their own, that swept close by them on its way
to New York. Its whole 500 feet of length was a blaze of light, and as
the Titans whistled hoarsely to each other a greeting without abating