“I’ll do that,” said Tim, eagerly.
“No you won’t,” said the chief; “you are to be the first man to board the ship. Here we are; up you go,” said Sea-hawk, shoving Tim up the ship’s side with so much violence that Tim fell over the bulwarks.
Tim was awfully scared, for he expected to be shot or stabbed the instant he reached the deck.
Judge of his happiness, then, when he discovered there was not a single soul on deck.
Perceiving this, and before any of his comrades could clamber up, he began cutting, and slashing, and swearing at imaginary foes, stamping his feet, and hacking at old empty barrels, with such a vengeance and so much noise as to make every one believe that he was at the moment performing prodigies of valour.
“Die! down! surrender, villains!” he roared.
And the more he shouted, the more he cut and hacked right and left, without meeting with a foe, except a cow and a few sheep on board, which he slaughtered unmercifully in a few seconds.
When the smugglers leaped upon the deck, they were astonished at not meeting with or finding any opposition.
Tim was puffing and blowing, as if wearied and exhausted with his terrific efforts, and pointed to the hatchway, shouting,
“I have beaten the villains ten to one; they are down the hatchway; down after them, my bold boys, down after them!”