"Among others," Holmes murmurs. "It has yet to be proved that intelligence has any bearing on survival," he says. "Which rather leaves us on the fence."
"That is what I meant," Holmes tells him. "It isn't merely a means to an end. To accomplish by magic what mundanes do with machines. It is a part of the world that until very recently I had no truck with save to expose charlatans taking advantage of the ignorant."
"Splendid!" Holmes beams, though he had expected nothing else. "Now Clayborn," he gets to his feet, the rifle held easily in his arm, barrel carefully pointed away. "You're left-handed. Do you know which is your master eye? You'll need to know to aim properly."
Good luck with that. *crosses fingers for you* I could have been more technical about the gun and loading, but it would have been far too long.