"That's not what I asked you," shouted the consul, growing brave quite
fast; "answer my questions as I put them, or I'll find a way to make
you."

This was going a little too far. The ferment, into which the cooper's
poltroonery had thrown the sailors, now brooked no restraint; and one
of them--a young American who went by the name of Salem--dashed out
from among the rest, and fetching the cooper a blow that sent him
humming over toward the consul, flourished a naked sheath-knife in
the air, and burst forth with "I'm the little fellow that can answer
your questions; just put them to me once, counsellor." But the
"counsellor" had no more questions to ask just then; for at the
alarming apparition of Salem's knife, and the extraordinary effect
produced upon Bungs, he had popped his head down the companion-way,
and was holding it there.

Upon the mate's assuring him, however, that it was all over, he looked
up, quite flustered, if not frightened, but evidently determined to
put as fierce a face on the matter as practicable. Speaking sharply,
he warned all present to "look out"; and then repeated the question,
whether there was enough to eat aboard. Everyone now turned
spokesman; and he was assailed by a perfect hurricane of yells, in
which the oaths fell like hailstones.

"How's this! what d'ye mean?" he cried, upon the first lull; "who told
you all to speak at once? Here, you man with the knife, you'll be
putting someone's eyes out yet; d'ye hear, you sir? You seem to have
a good deal to say, who are you, pray; where did you ship?"