“It Sounds Like a Trade Gun”

Black powder rose in the brass measure. The charge tumbled to the breech of the pristine barrel. Excited fingers rolled a few strands of wide-bladed green grass into a ball, equal in size to the hand-cast round ball. An index finger pushed the wadding into the muzzle. The leaden sphere rested on the matted grass.… Continue reading “It Sounds Like a Trade Gun”