For reasons, naturally not confided to junior “snotties,” we got under way again a few hours later, and went back to Mafia Island. Here the cutter was lowered, and Fane took the captain of marines, who was our intelligence officer, in to the beach to try and obtain from the natives information of the Koenigsberg. On their return we found that Fane had managed to procure a quantity of fresh coconuts and mangoes, which were greatly appreciated in the gun-room.
A curious optical illusion, caused by heat and the vibration of the atmosphere, was very noticeable in these latitudes. The horizon line seemed completely obliterated, and ships and islands appeared as though floating in the air.
Some days later H.M.S. “——” made the discovery that a German officer, accompanied by ten native German infantry, were encamped on an outlying island; so she lowered her cutter, and landed a party of marines on the island in question. The Germans surrendered after a half-hearted opposition, and the following day the officer was sent to our ship as a prisoner, and we took him to Zanzibar and handed him over to the military authorities.
When we returned, the Admiral having decided to hoist his flag in his former flagship, he and his staff were transferred to H.M.S. “——.” Carey, our senior mid, was appointed to that ship, and two sub-lieutenants came to us in his stead. All boats were lowered to convey the Admiral and his party, and a consignment of small arms, which we had on board, was transhipped at the same time.
A few days later we went down the coast to Lindi, a German town, and threatened them with a bombardment unless they surrendered 400 black and 200 white troops. They refused to comply with our demand, and so at 2 p.m. we went to action stations and commenced fire.
At 6 o’clock, the town being on fire in several places, we considered we had “strafed” them sufficiently, and also the light was beginning to fail, so we ceased the bombardment and weighed anchor. Just at this moment a cruiser appeared in the offing, and for some minutes it was thought she might be a hostile craft; however, on being challenged in code by searchlight, she proved by her reply to be British, so we went back to Mafia.
Three days later we learned that we were not after all to be “in at the death” of the Koenigsberg. Bigger, far bigger work was in store for us. We had received orders to proceed at once to the Dardanelles.
Immense excitement prevailed in the gun-room, for we guessed this new move predicted action which would throw all we had hitherto experienced into the shade—and subsequent events more than justified our conjecture.
First we went to Zanzibar, where we arrived in the morning. All that day was spent in disembarking the extraneous ammunition, petrol, and so on and so forth (not forgetting those mysterious rickshaws), which we had taken on board for the purposes of the Koenigsberg operations. Then in the evening we weighed anchor, and as we passed slowly out the Flagship gave us a right royal send-off. Her band played Tipperary—that pretty music-hall tune which, by the curious psychology of the British soldier, has been raised to the dignity of a battle hymn, and then followed it up with Auld Lang Syne, while the Admiral from the stern-walk wished us “Good luck,” and waved a parting farewell; and the old ship steamed away on what for her, and most of her ship’s company, was to prove the last long voyage.