There was a deep feeling of gratitude for the providential care we had received, and for the happy release that now had come.
"Cupid," the ship's bugler, played "Home, Sweet Home," and instead of mobbing him as we would have done had he played it three hours earlier, we applauded.

He also played "America," and then "Dixie," in honor of our Maryland friends on our sister ship of that name.

It pleased them mightily, as was evidenced by the cheer that came over the quiet water to us.

Their bugler returned the compliment soon after by playing "Yankee Doodle." There was much good feeling when the men went below, to turn in, but not to sleep; we were too happy for that.
As the talk and laughter gradually died down (the order, "Turn in your hammocks and keep silence," was not very strictly observed that night), a voice would be heard singing--not always the same voice: "But we'll all feel gay when The 'Yankee' goes sailing home." The following morning Scully did not have to repeat "up all hands," for he had hardly got the words out of his mouth before every man was scrambling into his clothes as fast as he could.
Soon after breakfast the order was given to hoist up the catamaran, and then the rest of the boats were pulled up one by one.

The boat's falls were run away with in a fashion that made the officers smile.