That is the authoritative account of Hudson’s great finding.  I have quoted it in full partly because of the thrilling interest that it has for us; but more to show that the record of his explorations—­the “Half Moon’s” log being written throughout with the same definiteness and accuracy—­gave what neither Gomez nor Verrazano gave:  clear directions for finding with certainty the haven that he, and those earlier navigators, had found by chance.  On that fact, and on the other fact that his directions promptly were utilized, rests his claim to be the practical discoverer of the harbor of New York.

For more than a week the “Half Moon” lay in the Lower Bay and in the Narrows.  Then, on the eleventh of September, she passed fairly beyond Staten Island and came out into the Upper Bay:  and Hudson saw the great river—­which on that day became his river—­stretching broadly to the north.  I can imagine that when he found that wide waterway, leading from the ocean into the heart of the continent—­and found it precisely where his friend Captain John Smith had told him he would find it, “under 40 degrees”—­his hopes were very high.  The first part of the story being confirmed, it was a fair inference that the second part would be confirmed; that presently, sailing through the “strait” that he had entered, he would come out, as Magellan had come out from the other strait, upon the Pacific—­with clear water before him to the coasts of Cathay.

That glad hope must have filled his heart during the ensuing fortnight; and even then it must have died out slowly through another week—­while the “Half Moon” worked her way northward as far as where Albany now stands.  Twice in the course of his voyage inland—­on September 14th, when his run was from Yonkers to Peekskill—­he reasonably may have believed that he was on the very edge of his great discovery.  As the river widened hugely into the Tappan Sea, and again widened hugely into Haverstraw Bay, it well may have seemed to him that he was come to the ocean outlet—­and that in a few hours more he would have the waters of the Pacific beneath his keel.  Then, as he passed through the Southern Gate of the Highlands, and thence onward, his hope must have waned—­until on September 22d it vanished utterly away.  Under that date Juet wrote in his log:  “This night, at ten of the clocke, our boat returned in a showre of raine from sounding the river; and found it to bee at an end for shipping to goe in.”

That was the end of the adventure inland.  Juet wrote on the 23d:  “At twelve of the clocke we weighed, and went downe two leagues”; and thereafter his log records their movements and their doings—­sometimes meeting with “loving people” with whom they had friendly dealings; sometimes meeting and having fights with people who were anything but loving—­as the “Half Moon” dawdled slowly down the stream.  By the 2d of October they were come abreast of about where Fort Lee now stands.  There they had their last brush with the savages, killing ten or twelve of them without loss on their own side.