The steamer threaded its way among the fleets of boats and shipping that lay off the town, and at length came to a stop at a pier. The passengers destined for this place began to disembark. Mr. George and Rollo stood together on the deck, looking at the buildings which lined the quay, and wondering at the quaint and queer forms which every thing that they saw assumed.
"I should really like to go ashore here," said Mr. George, "and see what sort of a place it is."
"Let us do it, uncle George!" said Rollo, eagerly. "Let us do it!"
"Only we have paid to Rotterdam," said Mr. George.
"Never mind," said Rollo. "It will not make much difference."
But before Mr. George could make up his mind to go on shore, the exchange of passengers was effected, and the plank was pulled in, the ropes were cast off, and the steamer once more began to move swiftly along over the water.
"It is too late," said Rollo.
"Yes," said Mr. George, "and on the whole it is better for us to go on."
In about an hour more the steamer began to draw near to Rotterdam. The approach to the town was indicated by the multitude of boats and vessels that were passing to and fro, and by the numbers of steamers and wind mills that lined respectively the margins of the water and of the land. The wind mills were prodigious in size. They towered high into the air like so many lighthouses; the tops of the sails, as Mr. George estimated, reached, as the vanes revolved, up to not less than one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet into the air. It was necessary to build them high, in order that the sails might not be becalmed by the houses.