In the flush of the early dawn, two large canoes came off to the Half Moon, one filled with men armed with bows and arrows, who seemed to be in war paint. Hudson was suspicious of treachery, so only allowed two of the braves to come on board, whom he dressed up in red coats. The remaining savages returned to the shore, and presently another canoe approached in which were two lone warriors. One of them was allowed to come on deck, Hudson intending to keep him as a hostage to insure the good behavior of his fellow citizens on the Isle of Manhattan.
The redskins, however, did not seem to like their fair-skinned brothers, and one immediately dove into the sea and swam hastily ashore. Expecting an immediate attack, Hudson weighed anchor and floated the Half Moon off into the channel of the Narrows, where he again anchored for the night. He expected an assault, but none came, so he set sail, next morning, for the Bay of New York, which he says that he found to be “an excellent harbor for all winds.” He again anchored, and the Half Moon was soon surrounded by the Indians, who were apparently friendly “making a great show of love, and giving tobacco and Indian wheat.” The navigators, however, were afraid of an attack and kept continually upon their guard, yet the red men departed to the shore, and all was peace and quiet, save for the mewing of the sea gulls and the squawking of a great blue heron, as he winged his way to the inland marshes.
The dreamy haze of September hung over the swirling, blue river as Henry Hudson gazed up the stream which was to ever afterwards bear his name, and, upon the morning of the twelfth, he weighed anchor, and steered towards the northwest. Twenty-eight canoes had visited him that morning, filled with redskinned men, women and children, who had brought oysters and clams to trade for blue beads and glass trinkets. The braves smoked great tobacco pipes of yellow color and their cheeks were smeared with red ochre, so that the mariners were suspicious of them, and, although they traded with them, allowed none to come upon the deck.
The wind was unpropitious, so the Half Moon only sailed about two leagues, when it anchored for the night. Yet, next day, the wind was fresher, so the vessel proceeded to travel about eleven miles, until it came opposite the present town of Yonkers, where the anchor was again let down. The redskins immediately crowded around the boat, but none were allowed to come on board, as the navigators feared treachery.
The weather continued to be fair, so the Half Moon proceeded upon her way, and, driven by a strong breeze, finally anchored in a region where the land was very high and mountainous, evidently the neighborhood of the Highlands and near the present site of the West Point Military Academy. No cries of “Battalion, Attention!” “Squads, Right!” or “Forward, March!” then echoed from the peaceful shore; instead of this, the mariners heard the hooting of a great, brown owl, while far off upon the mountain-side glimmered the camp-fire of a straggling band of Indians. As night descended upon the wilderness, the scream of a panther reverberated from the dense foliage of the high hills, which were beautiful with the first changing colors of autumn. The stream was narrowing, instead of expanding, so, thought Hudson, could it be possible that, after all, there was no passage to the East Indies?
A filmy mist hung over the rippling waters of the stream, next morning, but as the sun shone, a clear wind arose which seemed to blow it away. As Hudson gave orders to his men to haul up the anchor, a sudden splash near the vessel’s side made him run to the gunwale and look eagerly into the water, expecting to see a small whale, or a porpoise. Instead, the head of a redskin bobbed up in the ripples of the stream, as with furious strokes, one of the braves who had been held prisoner, swam towards the shore. Another head appeared. The two red men, who had been held as hostages, had escaped through the port hole.
The Indians soon reached the banks of the stream, climbed out, and standing there with clenched fists, shook them vindictively at the white men, making loud and angry cries. Not at all worried at the happening, Hudson kept on up the now narrowing river, passed by high mountains upon either side, and finally came in sight of other mountains, about fifty miles from his former anchorage. Here the redskins came out to view the curious vessel, and, says Hudson in his journal, they were “very loving people and very old men, who treated us very kindly.” The anchor was cast and a boat was sent off with sailors to catch fish, of which there was a great abundance.
Going ashore, next day, the brave navigator there met an old chieftain who lived in a circular house and was surrounded by forty men and seventeen women. The aged redskin was hospitably inclined and begged the white man to come and feast with him, an invitation which Hudson readily accepted. Two mats were immediately spread for him to sit upon and food was brought forward in large, red bowls made of wood. Several natives were meantime dispatched into the woods in search of game.
After awhile the braves returned with a pair of pigeons which were roasted upon the fire. A feast was now held, consisting of corn, beans, pigeon and fat dog, after which Hudson was requested to spend the night. “I must return,” said the mariner, but this seemed to worry the chief redskin, so that his people took all of their arrows, and, breaking them in pieces, threw them into the fire, as they supposed that the explorer was afraid of them. However, Hudson would not remain in the wigwam, preferring to sleep among his own compatriots.
After trading with the red men, who brought Indian corn, pumpkins and tobacco to the ship, the Half Moon was again steered up-stream, until the water was found to be very shoal. This was probably near the spot where the city of Hudson has grown up. The weather was warm and enervating, but the vessel was kept upon her course until she reached several small islands in the middle of the river, and also very shallow water, which made it impossible to proceed. As night came on, the vessel drifted near the shore and grounded. But she was floated off by means of an anchor, and again lay peacefully in the stream.