To "create a diversion", as the Sub put it, we steered W. after clearing the harbour till out of sight of land, as if we were going to meet the squadron, then we steered S.E. for a couple of hours, and finally altered our course for Colombo.
It was very hot, very tedious, and very monotonous work steaming across the Indian Ocean. We had to go slow to economize our coal, and all fresh food gave out two days after we left Aden, and I hate tinned stuff altogether. I had to do my share of watch-keeping during the day, and soon learnt to handle "No. 3" as easily as a ship's steam-boat. You can imagine we grew excited as we began to approach Colombo. Whether we caught her or not depended almost entirely on whether they had believed the misleading signal at Aden, for if they thought we were on our way to Colombo, they would have, of course, hurried her away by telegraph.
"If we don't catch her now we never shall, for there are any number of places she can hide in and coal between Colombo and Singapore or Saigon," said Mr. Parker.
"Well, shall we shove her on a little?" suggested Mr. Chapman. "At this rate we shall get in to-morrow evening with eighteen tons of coal on board. I could give you another knot and a half if you like."
There was a long discussion about it—I was too young, of course, and did not have anything to say—but they finally decided it would be safer to have some few tons in hand.
"You see," argued Mr. Parker, as all three leant up against the bridge rails, "if they sight us before they know by telegram that we are on our way, they may think that we have no coal left and may 'clear out', imagining that we can't chase them. That would be certainly their most reasonable plan, wouldn't it? That's what I should do if I were in their shoes. We will just shove on every knot you can give us, Chapman, directly we sight the lighthouse, and that won't give them much time to get away."
I had the morning watch from four till eight, and had gone below to get some breakfast—sardines, jam, and ship's biscuit—when suddenly I heard the engine-room gong clang, and could feel the engines whizzing round. The plates began dancing about the table, and my coffee was nearly all spilt before I could drink it. I stuffed down the last two sardines in one mouthful and rushed up on deck. All the men were crowding forward under the bridge, gesticulating and pointing ahead. Climbing up to the bridge, I could make out the lighthouse and the long breakwater of Colombo.
"Is she coming out, sir?" I asked, for I could not see anything through my telescope—we were shaking so, and the ship was so unsteady. "The signalman says she is," said Mr. Parker, with his eye glued to his telescope. "Yes, there she goes! Look at that dark patch on the breakwater. That's smoke, and she's underneath it. My eye! she's getting up speed pretty quickly."
In another half-minute we could see her with the naked eye. She was showing up dark against the white breakwater, and was tearing through the water, running almost at right angles to us till she cleared the breakwater and the rocks. We were drawing rapidly together when she put her helm over. We saw her heel over, swing round, right herself as she settled down on her proper course, and away she flew, the Patagonian flag stiffening out astern.
"Follow her, Davis," sang out Mr. Parker to the petty officer at the wheel, as he tried to light his pipe behind the chart table. "Go to quarters, Collins (the Sub), and pass up ammunition." The Gunner and Mr. Collins flew down on deck to see everything prepared, leaving only Mr. Parker and myself on the bridge.