HOMEWARD BOUND — NORTHWARD. 299 



waters of the Gulf Stream — a river flowing through an ocean. 

 Soon we were plowing waters afterwards familiar to me in 

 1862 and 1863; but who could have dreamed that in ten 

 years our country would experience the horrors of a Civil 

 War. On the 26th we passed Cape Hatteras, and the 28th 

 brought us in sight of land, which was the coast of New 

 Jersey. 



In the years before I left home I heard a great many satiri- 

 cal things said of the State east of the Delaware. Would-be 

 smart folks called it Spain and a sand-bank, and its people 

 Spaniards, and sand-pipers, and other cutting names were prev- 

 alent. Perhaps I thought these sayings smart, and in a 

 modest way indulged in them myself. But when I saw its 

 shores for the first time, after my year of journeying, I was in 

 no mood to indulge in or tolerate the cheap wit of former days. 

 It was the verge of my native land, and I welcomed its un- 

 picturesque, low-lying shores as the threshold of my home. 



Soon the shores of Long Island came in view, and, passing 

 by Governor's Island, we steered through a labyrinth of ship- 

 ping, and at last the " Northern Light " was moored at her 

 dock, just above the Battery. Now came the hurry and con- 

 fusion of landing, after which, forcing themselves through a 

 noisy array of hackmen, runners and porters, my thousand 

 shipmates scattered and parted forever. 



