There was a particular charade the gunsmith enjoyed performing while masking as Gunner. Behind the steel mask and the hands that signed. Of course, being hidden behind such layers muffled sound to the point – the ability to stop and stare intently at the target, the small lowering and focusing on the lips as they moved allowed the mind to quietly piece information together. A small gleaning into who was being spoken to. It also allowed the time to calculate an answer, more caution in giving a result. So while the gunsmith quietly lined up the shot and powder, ensuring it was measured equally; the hollow eyes of the mask stared back.
The question was a good one, and one that caught the attention of a few others. So, presenting both side by side Gunner allowed the onlookers to view the immediate differences between the flintlock and the prototype. A firm nod to Dancer, the hands slipping out to sign while the cadet translated for all to understand.
“With the flint, it is a single shot piece that requires loadin' between firin',” as he spoke. When the gunsmith’s gloved hands stopped to move to loading the flintlock, he continued his own pace changing from translating, “As seen by Gunner demonstratin’ the loadin’ process.” The ramrod went down first, clear exaggerated movements; then the gunpowder went down, chased by the ramrod once more with the movement slower and more deliberate, before a lead shot was dropped down. The rod followed, “While the loadin’ is done slowly here with emphasis, the fastest speed for loadin' is…”
Gunner placed down the pistol then, repeating the process with the other, head turning to look upon the cadet. They saw the hands of Dancer move – “Best known load time for flint?” – before they responded. The sentence was quickly and vocally finished for the onlookers, “Thirty seconds, accordin' to Gunner.”
The gloved hands moved, this time to the Liberator. They began to move in sign, deliberate movements while Dancer watched intently. With an issue of being lengthy, there was an attempt to break it down and allow the translation to occur. Dancer continued, “This new one, while still being tested would allow for six shots one after the other, before then being reloaded at the cost of a slower reload time when empty.” A digit gestured to the large rotating chamber, before continuing, “The chamber rotates around with each shot.”
Gunner picked up the firearm then, holding it clearly to the group. Firstly the thumb pulled back the hammer, before slowly squeezing the trigger. Unloaded as it was, it gave a click as the hammer struck the back of the cylinder while the rotation started as the trigger was released. Once settled, the trigger was given another squeeze; this time there was no click but the chamber still rotated around. The Gunsmith gave it a quick check, before lowering it down to the table.
“As you may have noticed, this firearm does not fire unless the hammer is pulled back. It also does not need the spark made by the flint to ignite the gunpowder due to the P-E-R-C-U-S-S-I-O-N caps, nor does not have the same risk as setting it off by mistake,” Dancer frowned then, tapping the smith on the shoulder. The hands moved, question posed once more – “Do you mean, as in Drum?” – Gale gave a firm nod, before signing back – “Please call them Drum Caps if easier.”
A smile, “Gunner meant as in drum cap.”
Hands moving the smith proceeded to undo the central shaft in the heart of the cylinder – unscrewing it and revealing the six chambers. It was shown, broadly, to the viewers, before being placed down. The small tin was opened then, six of the tiny copper caps – shaped like tiny bowls – being shown and then placed in the back. Tight in, the gunpowder was carefully tapped down into the chamber before the lead bullet was pressed down in. Packed in, the cylinder was put into place and the shaft screwed back in. Liberator was placed back down onto the table.
Another cap was taken out then, a tiny thing that nestled in the crook of their hand. Leaning across it was shown, the hand gesturing for them to take and look. Once it was the hands began once more, Dancer speaking for them, “These allow the powder to be set fire to without an actual flame. When the hammer of the gun strikes the base, it forces the sealed powder to react and ignite. It… I am sorry,” he broke off then, once more tapping on the shoulder. The lips moved slower and clearly, “I don’t understand the rest. Can you just show us?”
Taking another cap out of the tin, it was placed upon the table. A small amount of gunpowder was placed alongside – barely a thimble full – and scraped into a pile. Fire arms moved aside to the open hands of Dancer to create space, the cap sat over the powder. A large, actual hammer was then removed from the toolbox. A roll of the shoulder, the hammer gave a small testing tap where the cap was, before it was pulled back. It slammed against the table, a crack of noise, a stream of smoke and the briefest of flashes escaping alongside it. Withdrawing, the cap now sat flat upon the top of the table, a burned scorch in the surface of the wood. Brushing the debris away, the firearms were returned, hand signaling for the return of the other cap while Dancer spoke, “So, who would like to fire one? Step around now.”