'Then a shout from the men on the main-mast told us on deck that the shot had made its mark. The little ship quaked again with the blast of her guns. The men were now almost black with powder, and continually dipped their heads in the sponge buckets to keep the grit from their eyes. One of our shots had fallen well within the enemy's works; another had taken a yard of scarp off—for a slight breeze had lifted the fog of smoke, and all on board could plainly see the enemy working in their embrasures. The Arab gunners now trained one of their Armstrongs in our direction. Our engine-bell sounded, and the Condor at once steamed ahead. A puff of smoke from the fort, a dull boom, a rush of shell through the air, and a jet of water shot up far astern, followed by a shout from our men. The enemy had missed us. When the Arabs reloaded and brought to bear, the Condor steamed back again, and the shell whistled across her bows.
VICE-ADMIRAL LORD CHARLES BERESFORD, K.C.B.
'The enemy's fire on the ships attacking Fort Mex slackened, and soon ceased altogether. Irritated by the constant fire of the little Condor, the Egyptian gunners now devoted their entire attention to us. They set about slewing their other Armstrongs in our direction. Their long black muzzles slowly turned their gaping mouths towards us. We looked at each other, then some of us looked at the captain, for the situation was becoming critical.... In an instant he decided,' proceeds Mr. Villiers, 'and gave the order for the Condor to run in closer, and we came within 1200 yards. We all saw in a moment the wisdom of the seeming audacity. We were well within their guard; though the Gyppies blazed at us, they could only practise at our masts; they could not depress their guns sufficiently to hull us. We cheered again and again as their abortive attempts to get at us failed, for a shot below water-mark, with the lurch the Condor was already making with all her guns abroadside, would have sent her down to Davy Jones's locker in less than ten minutes.
'The Egyptians, in their rage, opened fire with their smooth-bores from the lower parapet. The round-shot would whistle through our rigging, making us lie low awhile; but we would scramble to our feet again, dropping another 9-inch shell well within their works, scattering their gunners, and making things quite unpleasant for them. Only once did the enemy touch us, when a deep thud started the little ship trembling from stem to stern. The carpenter was ordered below. There was an anxious moment or two, when at last he returned, reporting the glad news that "all was well"; we had only been grazed.'
It may be noted, by the way, that at twelve hundred yards a gun like the 9-inch guns on Fort Marabout has a velocity of 1233 feet a second, and a penetrative power equal to carrying their 250-lb. shot clean through a target of wrought iron nine and a half inches thick. Had only one of these projectiles hit fairly, there would have been an end of the Condor, there and then. That is certain. At the same time, at twelve hundred yards the time of flight of a shot from muzzle to mark would be 2.72 seconds, and the shot in that period would drop 75½ feet. It was not an impossible task for the Egyptian gunners on the ramparts to hit the Condor. That they failed utterly was the Condor's luck—the fortune of war, pure and simple. The Condor's crew through it all seemed to bear charmed lives. Shots fell thick in the water all round, as other ships observed, or cut the rigging overhead. One big shot tore the awning over the quarter-deck. A 10-inch shell struck the water close underneath the ship's bows, and the column of water sent up by the splash knocked an officer and two men off the forecastle.
To resume with Mr. Villiers.
'It was a scorching, thirsty time on deck. The particles of carbon from the powder floating in the air dried our throats till we almost choked. The captain's steward was always ready to quench the thirst of the guests, Mr. Moberly Bell, the now famous manager of the Times, and myself, with cool drinks whenever we found time between the shots to rush below; but just as the tumbler reached our lips the blast of the guns would almost shatter the glass against one's teeth, and we would rush on deck to see how the shot had told.
'All the time the navigating lieutenant, with eyes fixed on the chart, was calmly moving the vessel up and down a narrow tortuous passage which we could distinctly see, by peering over the side of the vessel, for the reefs on either flank of the narrow channel glistened from out the blue-black of the waters.'