As Denbigh had foreseen, two British destroyers took part in the attempt to settle the _Pelikan_. Deceived by the position of the searchlight on shore both boats headed towards the glare like moths to a lighted candle. At a distance of five hundred yards from the edge of the lagoon the leading boat ported helm and let fly a couple of torpedoes from her midship deck-tubes. Straight as arrows sped the two deadly missiles, but instead of striking the hull of the _Pelikan_ they exploded simultaneously against the rocks. Instantly the guns on the raider and those in the masked battery on shore opened a furious fire. The leading destroyer, caught by the tornado of shell, was hulled again and again. With her funnels riddled like sieves, her deck gear swept away, and in a sinking condition, she turned for the open sea. Failing in that object her lieutenant-commander ran her aground on the outer reef just as she was on the point of foundering. The second destroyer, blinded by the glare of the searchlights, and finding that she was the target for two distinct batteries, neither of which was in the spot where the _Pelikan_ was supposed to be, turned about, screening her movements with smoke from her funnels. Slowing down outside the lagoon she picked up the survivors from her consort and steamed out to sea. From the Germans' point of view it was a victory: the British, undaunted by the loss of one of their boats, preferred to call it a "reconnaissance in force", with the object of compelling the enemy to unmask his batteries. The main attack would be made by long-range gunnery, and to that end the three monitors, then lying in Zanzibar Harbour, were ordered to make for the mouth of the Mohoro River. Denbigh and O'Hara, having the mortification of seeing the destroyers repulsed with loss--the action was over in five minutes--again set out on their return journey. In spite of the aid afforded by the compass the subs found, on emerging from the forest, that they were a long way out of their reckoning. They had hit the banks of the Mohoro River right enough, but either a considerable distance above or below the spot where the _Myra_ lay moored. The mists had rolled away. It was now very dark, yet had the tramp been anywhere in the vicinity the subs would have been able to discern her. There were ominous sounds: those of huge creatures wading over the mud-flats. Hippopotami and crocodiles were emerging from the river. "Up or down?" asked O'Hara. "Neither, by this bank," replied Denbigh, gripping his rifle. "It doesn't sound healthy. We'll cut inland a bit and try our luck up-stream." "Why up-stream?" asked the Irishman.