I paced off another twenty meters and then shoved three of the stakes in the ground—each about three feet from the other. I went back to where I had begun, and reaching in my pocket, took out a pair of foam earplugs and stoppered up my ears. Then I loaded the tubular magazine of the shotgun, but left the chamber empty.

I put the butt into my shoulder with the muzzle down in the ready position, and lined my body up on the leftmost target. I closed my eyes and swung the shotgun into firing position. Opening my eyes, I checked to see where the gun was pointed. It was off to the right just a bit. I shifted my feet slightly to the left and went through the motion again. This time, when I opened my eyes, the muzzle of the gun was pointed directly at the target.

I quickly cycled the pump, shoving a shell into the chamber. And as I saw the target centered again on the bead sight, I slapped the trigger.

Bloooom!

The butt of the shotgun punched me solidly in the shoulder and as I rocked backward with the recoil, I cycled the slide, ejecting the spent shell and chambering a fresh one. As the muzzle of the gun came back level again I shifted my feet slightly to the right, saw the next target on the bead, and slapped the trigger again.

Bloooom!

The shot roared and the gun recoiled. I jacked in a fresh round, fired at the next target, and then, slipping the safety to on, lowered the gun back again to the ready position.

The action feels good, I thought as I walked to the targets. A little stiff, maybe, but I can smooth that out with a polishing stone. The pattern of the shot was perfect when I inspected the targets. The mass of pellets had perforated the center of each of the cardboard sheets. At that distance the shot pattern covered the width of a man’s chest.

I shucked the remaining shell from the magazine and then checked the chamber. With the action open, I looked inside and then stuck a finger in the chamber for the “blind man’s test.” Next I stapled new cardboard on the targets and stepped back this time about ten meters.

Putting down the shotgun, I drew my pistol and squared on the right target. I stared at the center of the target and, keeping it in clear focus, swung the pistol up in front of my face and tapped the trigger twice, as fast as I could. I lowered the pistol back to the ready and checked the target: two holes, a half-inch apart, in the center of the cardboard.