As we passed the signal station, they signaled us, "Good-by and a prosperous voyage"; we replied, "Thank you," and dipped our colors.
A little tug, which we had chartered to take our guests back to Sydney, followed the _Roosevelt_ as far as Low Point Light, outside the harbor; there she ran alongside, and Mrs.Peary and the children, and Colonel Borup, with two or three other friends, transferred to her.

As my five-year-old son, Robert, kissed me good-by, he said, "Come back soon, dad." With reluctant eyes I watched the little tug grow smaller and smaller in the blue distance.

Another farewell--and there had been so many! Brave, noble little woman! You have borne with me the brunt of all my arctic work.

But, somehow, this parting was less sad than any which had gone before.

I think that we both felt it was the last.
By the time the stars came out, the last items of supplies taken on at North Sydney were stowed, and the decks at least were unusually free for an arctic ship just starting northward--all but the quarter-deck, which was piled high with bags of coal.
Inside the cabins, however, all was litter and confusion.