The chase was a long one, and although the "Vorwartz," fired three torpedoes only one hit the mark, exploding under the "Iticaba’s" starboard quarter and destroying one of her twin propellers and buckling the rudder, while the steel plating of the hull was fractured sufficiently to cause the vessel to be in a sinking condition. Still the old skipper stood doggedly on the bridge, refusing to surrender. His one hope was to run the ship ashore in shoal water where the submarine could not follow. Ordering every available pump to be worked to its utmost capacity the "old man" still found the leak gaining, and it was a question whether the "Iticaba" would or would not founder in deep water. Apparently the "Vorwartz" was unwilling to waste another torpedo on a ship that was already doomed; and since her rascally crew could not hope to gain any plunder from a foundering ship, the submarine sheered off and made way to the south’ard. Unmolested the "Iticaba" managed to reach the shore, and on striking was cast broadside on upon the breakers. Being unprovided with wireless, the stranded vessel could not call for assistance; nevertheless the skipper, trusting that the sound might be heard by passing ships, fired distress guns at the stipulated intervals. Loath to abandon his command he still held hopes that with the aid of another vessel and the rent of the hull temporarily patched up, the "Iticaba" might even yet be towed off and brought safely into port. But the heavy ground-swell soon knocked this idea out of the skipper’s head. Serious leaks, apart from those caused by the torpedo, appeared, and in less than an hour from the time of stranding the forehold was flooded. The first on-shore gale would complete the work of destruction, and as there were indications of the approach of bad weather, the skipper reluctantly decided, on he representations of his chief officer, to give orders to abandon ship. Fortunately the "Iticaba," broadside on, afforded a breakwater for the boats under her lee, and after carefully provisioning and manning two whalers, a cutter and a gig, the crew pulled for the shore. It was the skipper’s intention to camp ashore till the forecasted storm had blown itself out, and then to coast southwards to Mombassa or Zanzibar; but the plan was foredoomed to failure. A keen-eyed Somali, hearing the report of the distress signals, had ridden his fleet camel to the landward side of the sand dunes fronting the shore. He could see that a ship was ashore, and that there was a most excellent opportunity for his fellow-tribesmen to enjoy the congenial task of massacring a handful of unbelievers and pillaging their goods. He returned at full speed to the encampment, and soon eighty swarthy Somalis were ready for the shore.