One night he climbed up on the poop with the ship’s great lantern and tried the flashing signals he remembered.  Before many minutes two of the wild men had drawn near to watch, and although John could not make out the meaning of the light that came and went upon the cliffs, it was quite clear that they could.  One of them waved his mantle in front of the lantern, and turning to the boy nodded and grinned good-naturedly.  The signal fires must have talked to some purpose, for the next day a delegation paddled out from the shore to invite the great captain, his son and his chief officers to a feast.

When the party arrived at the house of the chief, which was a round building, or pavilion, of saplings sheathed with oak bark, mats were spread for them to sit upon, and food was served in polished red wooden bowls.  Two hunters were sent out to bring in game, and returned almost at once with pigeons which were immediately dressed and cooked by the women.  One of the hunters gave John one of the arrowheads used for shooting small birds; it was no bigger than his least fingernail and made of a red stone like jasper.  A fat dog had also been killed, skinned and dressed with shell knives, and served as the dish of honor.  Hudson hastily explained in English to his companions that whether they relished dog or not, it would never do to refuse it, as this was a special dish for great occasions.

“Dad,” said John that night, “do you think any ship with white men ever came up here before?”

“No,” said Hudson.

“I hope they’ll call this the Hudson.”

The water was now hardly more than seven feet deep, and the tide rose only a few inches.  Hudson came reluctantly to the conclusion that there was no proceeding further in a ship.  He sent a boatload of men several leagues up-stream, but they came back with the report that the river was much the same so far as they had gone.

During the voyage they had often seen parties of the savages, usually friendly but sometimes hostile.  Flights of arrows occasionally were aimed at the Half Moon, and the crew replied with musket-shots which sometimes but not always hit the mark.  The painted warriors had a way of disappearing into the woods like elves.  Once, in spite of all endeavors to shake him off, a solitary Indian in a small canoe followed along under the stern till he saw the chance of climbing up the rudder to the cabin window.  He stole the pillow off the commander’s bed, two shirts, and two bandoliers (ammunition-belts), the tinkle of which betrayed him.  The mate saw him making off with his plunder and shot him, whereupon the other Indians paddled off at top speed, some even leaping from their canoes to swim ashore.  A boat put out and recovered the stolen property, and when a swimming Indian caught the side of it to overturn it the cook valiantly beat him off with a sword.  These with many other adventures were duly written down by Robert Juet the mate.