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. CHAPTER X IN ACTION