They had sailed the armed clipper, The Black Crow, five miles off the coast of California, and were tacking back for her second run at the target boat. The Gatling Guns were mounted amidships, port and starboard, the brass barrel-covers gleaming in the afternoon sunlight. Targets, made of sandbags and wooden barrels filled with sand, crowded the deck of the target ship to simulate pirates. Bradford was pleased with the first pass. The gunner of the number one gun had a feel for it, anticipating the rise and fall of the ship, with a majority of his rounds striking the targets.
“Loaders, ready!” ordered Bradford.
There were two loaders to feed the guns. Each stick magazine held only forty rounds, and the Gatling"s had a voracious appetite of 1,000 rounds per minute. The ship would pass the
