“I’m shot! I’m shot! My head’s off! My head’s off! Take me down! Take me down!”
Amid roars of laughter from his companions, an old salt caught up a pair of shell hooks, similar in shape to fire tongs, and, reaching forward, brought the ends together over a piece of flesh under the fellow’s pantaloons with an unmerciful squeeze.
The dead man sprang up with wonderful agility, and, amid piercing shrieks, bawled out:
“I’m shot again! I’m shot again! Take me down below! Take me down below!”
Such peals of laughter followed this that the lad opened his eyes, looked about, came to his senses and realized his position.
At the captain’s command he went forward and slunk out of sight.
The next shot from the Sea Scourge took off the head of the brave old salt, spiraling it round and round until it struck the deck, while the headless body sank quivering down upon the very spot where but a moment before the form of the coward had rolled.
But—
“The coward dies many deaths,
The brave man dies but once.”