He broke the revolver, and Bomba gave a gasp of dismay.
“You broke it!” he exclaimed in grief.
“That’s all right,” replied Gillis. “I have to do that to load it. See, this is the way it is done.”
He put cartridges in the five chambers, while Bomba watched him breathlessly. Then he snapped the stock back and looked around for a mark.
One of the dead jaguars caught his eye, and he emptied the revolver into the carcass, firing so rapidly that it seemed almost one continuous explosion.
“Now go take a look at the jaguar,” said Gillis. “You’ll find five holes that weren’t in it before.”
Bomba confirmed this with his eyes. It still seemed to him like magic, and there was awe mingled with delight in his ownership of the weapon.
“Let me put five more holes in the jaguar,” he begged.
Gillis loaded it for him and gave him directions how to hold, aim, and fire the weapon, though he and Dorn took care to take their stand behind him.
In the tyro’s hands only one more perforation marked the jaguar’s hide, the rest missing the mark through Bomba’s unfamiliarity with the weapon and his failure to allow for its kick.