"Where bound, Captain?" came the hail. "Delaware Breakwater!" "Want a tow?" "How far are we?" "About three miles!" "All right, give us your line!" As the tug ranged ahead and took our heaving line, we read her name; she was the _Atkins Hughes_, of Philadelphia. Droughing slowly through the heavy fog, we furled sail and toward noon were at anchor behind the Delaware Breakwater. A launch came out and we found the war with Spain was over, the date of our landfall being September 18th, 1898. We heard of the great battle off Santiago, and that the Hawaiian Islands had been annexed. Peter and I got the surviving Kanakas, Kahemuku and Joe, up on the fo'c'sle head and made them give three cheers for their new country. After several starts they did this very well, much to our amusement. "Where is Pilladelpia?" Kahemuku wanted to know. "Right up there, Kahee," said Peter, pointing up the Delaware. "Now that you are an American citizen you will have a fine time when you get there." That Sunday afternoon we sat about yarning; anchor watches were chosen, and a full night in was before us. We were tired and sea worn and a trifle sad. Back of us the hard days of the voyage, ahead of us, what? We were soon to part and no one mentioned this important fact. We were glad, of course, happy to so soon collect that long looked forward to payday, and to carry out the great plans so long in the making. I felt a hollow homesickness that had to be suppressed with a firm hold and, as we rested, smoking and yarning, I have no doubt many wondered if they were really to act upon the good resolutions so bravely determined. Axel and Frenchy joined me on the fo'c'sle head and we talked of many things. I was going home, but they wanted me to surely write them. Both were to ship as soon as possible for their native shores. Old Smith was as quiet as it is possible for a sailor of the old school to be. He sat on the forehatch smoking. "What are you going to do?" I asked Smith. "Well, if what I have done before is any criterion," he said grandly, "I guess I am going to sea again as soon as my pay is spent and I get a ship. China for me next, I am through with the Horn." [Illustration: WATCHING SHORE AT DELAWARE BREAKWATER] The light on Cape May, the twinkle of lights ashore, and the clear autumn night following the day of fog, came as a welcome relief. We needed sleep; we were tired and we were on the eve of parting. I remember during my anchor watch, from two to four in the mid watch, I stumped the deck in a highly reminiscent mood. Several times I went to the fo'c'sle doors and looked in; bad as the drill had been, I hated to leave it.