Chương 17: Harold Rifle

Once Colin was done taking things into the house, I grabbed my musket, along with the belt and pouches that came with the gun, and then we started walking to the tractor. I looked over my gun. It looked a lot like the muskets I'd used before, but I figured it would be good to ask Colin about it since he'd actually used it.

"Colin, tell me all about this gun." He looked at me and asked, "Like its range and stuff?"

"Everything about it. Give me a lesson like you're teaching someone completely new to it," I said. He smiled. This was something he was clearly enthusiastic about.

"Well, John. This is the Harold rifled musket. Named after the emperor. He actually has a Gunsmith support class, and he helped make the design for it."

"It replaced the old style where you had to measure out powder for the ball, and then use a match in a primer pan, like you're probably used to. It's been out for about ten years now, and is the only rifle the empire's army uses anymore. All homesteaders in the Territories get one for only 100 gold."

"It's so amazing that we got them! If you aren't in the army, or a homesteader in a new territory you can't even buy them. Well, I'm sure that the nobles, or super-rich people probably have their ways. But I bet it's a thousand gold or more to buy one."

"Alright. The gun has a forty inch barrel and a total length of fifty-five inches. The stock is made of oak and the butt plate is brass. It weighs just about ten pounds."

"It's also the first round-barreled mass-produced rifle ever! That's because they got a few people high enough level to make steel barrels in the royal armory that are consistently the same size." Colin was clearly in his element talking about guns. He pointed out each piece as he talked about it. His hands were animated, and he looked me in the eye when he wasn't pointing at parts of the gun.

"It has this paper cartridge." He held one up and showed it to me.

"It's a. 58 caliber ball that they call a bullet." I could see that it was a solid waxed paper tube that had powder on one end and what I would have called a Minié ball on the other. Soldiers used this bullet type during the American Civil War. It was cylindrical, with a rounded head. On the bottom was an indentation that helped it cut through the air. He pointed at my gun.

"You want to load and shoot it? I can show you everything then."

"Sure," I said. He nodded.

"Alright. Da always said doing things yourself was the best way to learn." I smiled at that. He was correct. He handed me the cartridge he'd been holding. The whole cartridge looked a lot like an old-style shotgun shell. My great-grandfather had a pre-WWI Browning shotgun made right around 1900, and you were only supposed to shoot paper shells in it.

Of course, I hadn't actually asked why I couldn't use a modern plastic shell, one of those things I wasn't likely to ever ask about in the future, now that I thought about it. My grandfather had paid a gun shop to make him a few boxes of paper shells. He took the gun out of the safe once a year and shot a few shells with it, then put it back. It was honestly ridiculous. The gun was worth tens of thousands of dollars. Oh well, it made my grandfather happy.

"Now bite off the end of the paper." Colin's instructions brought me out of my reverie. One side held the bullet and the other the powder, so I bit the top of that side off. There had been tiny perforations at the end of the shell that made it come off easily.

"Now pour the powder down the barrel." Colin instructed. I did as I was told. It was obvious the bullet went next, so I shoved that down until it was flush with the end of the barrel, leaving the paper on it. I remembered it helped act as a lube in the barrel. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Colin nodded at me as I put the bullet in place then said, "Okay. Tear the extra paper off that's still sticking out the end of the barrel. Next, get your ramrod out.

Push it down just like you would with an old-style musket." I took the brass ramrod out of its holding place below the barrel and shoved the bullet down. I gave it a few extra taps just to be certain and put the rod away.

"Alright. This is the coolest part. Look at the second pouch on the belt they gave you." Colin was smiling broadly while he spoke, and pointed at my belt pouch. I opened the flap and pulled out a little copper cap. It was probably half the size of my pinky nail. It was flat on one side, with an indentation on the other.

"Half cock the gun," he said. I pulled the hammer halfway back, feeling it click into place.

"Then put that cap on the little nipple in front of the hammer." I put the priming cap on the nipple and felt it stick firmly in place. I wondered if Harold and his team had figured this out on their own, or if someone from another world brought the technology over with them. Colin's enthusiasm was still going strong as he said, "Now it's ready to shoot once you fully cock the gun! Pretty neat huh? Those priming caps are so amazing, there's a charge inside that tiny cap!

Once the hammer hits the cap, it shoots a flame inside that nipple that ignites the powder. But make sure you keep them dry or they'll misfire all the time."

"It sure is," I said.

"Definitely beats using a powder horn and packing in a wad then a ball. And much easier than priming the pan!" He nodded, smiling. He clearly loved talking about these guns. With what was clearly false modesty Colin said, "I'm not a great shot from beyond about seventy-five yards, but I don't know anyone who doesn't have a rifleman class who is. The gun can shoot a thousand yards if you have some levels in a Rifleman class and take the long range skills and perks.

But the soldier I talked to said that four hundred yards is the max range for it to kill anything very big. He said he'd killed a wolf from eight hundred yards though. Of course he had some levels that really boosted his range."

"In the militia, they'll teach you to shoot in massed ranks. Then they can hit stuff up to about four, maybe even five hundred yards with those massed volleys."

"Thanks for the info," I said. He smiled sheepishly and looked down, then kicked the dirt. Irritation flashed across my face as I saw him kick the dirt.

"Hey, stop kicking the dirt all the time. I'm not getting you new boots before next year. Unless you outgrow them I guess." I said that last part with a frown. He was still a growing boy, and hopefully he'd do some real growing now that he'd be eating better.

"Sorry," he said. He still had his hands in his pockets and was looking at the ground. His shoulder-length hair hid his face. I should make the kid get a haircut. I decided he was properly chastised, so I aimed at a tree fifty yards ahead and focused on a knot the size of a head about chest height to me. I pulled the trigger and heard the sharp cracking noise a musket made, accompanied by a puff of smoke.

I always kind of enjoyed that cloud of smoke that came with black powder rifles, but I couldn't imagine it would be a lot of fun if I was in massed ranks on a battlefield, as a heavy cloud of smoke obscured my vision. It wouldn't be long before I experienced it myself, at least in a training capacity. One real benefit to a black powder rifle versus my modern 30-06 deer rifle was that there was almost no kick. When I was thirteen, I shot my 30-06 once while lying down.

I didn't have it properly seated against my shoulder, and it had popped up and hit my collarbone. I was convinced I'd broken it for a couple of days. My dad and brothers had found it hilarious. That wasn't an issue I'd ever have to worry about with a black powder rifle. Once the smoke cleared, I could see the bullet had left a deep wound in the knot. My aim had been true. These large bullets left devastating wounds.

Surgeons in the American Civil War had basically been glorified butchers, but even if they'd known about germs, they still would have had to amputate most limbs hit by the massive bullets. Part of the reason for the current calibers of bullets used by modern armies was so they wouldn't leave such devastating injuries. Most automatic rifles used in wars today were designed to wound, not necessarily to kill. If you badly wounded someone, then it might take two or three men out of the fight.

Assuming they cared about helping each other… That led me to one more question I had to ask Colin about.

"Hey, can you use these things to shoot birds? Or just larger game?" He shook his head.

"No. I guess some of the homesteaders tried, but the rifling on the barrel messes up the shot. It just goes everywhere. I don't know if it hurts the barrel too, but I can't imagine it's a good thing for it. You can buy a smooth bore, didn't you see one in the store?" I told him I hadn't been looking at them since I didn't have the gold. But I wanted to know what he used to get the small game I knew they ate.

"So what do you do to get rabbits and birds?" I asked. He looked at the ground, contemplated kicking a clod of soil, thought better of it, then looked at me and smiled.

"I make snares. I'll show them to you sometime. I designed my own, didn't even need to look at the ones in the Guild Store to do it either." That was certainly clever of him.

"That's pretty neat," I said.

"Now let's get moving and get the tractor so we can get some planting done."