I now propose to say something on
the mule’s limbs and feet. It will be observed
that the mule has a jack’s leg from the knee
down, and in this part of the leg he is weak; and
with these he frequently has to carry a horse’s
body. It stands to reason, then, that if you feed
him until he gets two or three hundred pounds of extra
flesh on him, as many persons do, he will break down
for want of leg-strength. Indeed, the mule is
weakest where the horse is strongest. His feet,
too, are a singular formation, differing very materially
from those of the horse. The mule’s feet
grow very slow, and the grain or pores of the hoof
are much closer and harder than those of the horse.
It is not so liable, however, to break or crumble.
And yet they are not so well adapted for work on macadamized
or stony roads, and the more flesh you put on his body,
after a reasonable weight, the more you add to the
means of his destruction.
Observe, for instance, a farmer’s
mule, or a poor man’s mule working in the city.
These persons, with rare exceptions, feed their mules
very little grain, and they are generally in low flesh.
And yet they last a very long time, notwithstanding
the rough treatment they get. When you feed a
mule, you must adjust the proportions of his body to
the strength of his limbs and the kind of service
he is required to perform. Experience has taught
me, that the less you feed a mule below what he will
eat clean, just that amount of value and life is kept
out of him.
In relation to feeding animals.
Some persons boast of having horses and mules that
eat but little, and are therefore easily kept.
Now, when I want to get a horse or a mule, these small
eaters are the last ones I would think of purchasing.
In nine cases out of ten, you will find such animals
out of condition. When I find animals in the Government’s
possession, that cannot eat the amount necessary to
sustain them and give them proper strength, I invariably
throw them out, to be nursed until they will eat their
rations. Animals, to be kept in good condition,
and fit for proper service, should eat their ten and
twelve quarts of grain per head per day, with hay
in proportion say, twelve pounds.
I wish here again to correct a popular
error, that the mule does not eat, and requires much
less food than the horse. My experience has been,
that a mule, twelve hands high, and weighing eight
hundred pounds, will eat and, indeed, requires just
as much as a horse of similar dimensions. Give
them similar work, keep then in a stable, or camp them
out during the winter months, and the mule will eat
more than the horse will or can. A mule, however,
will eat almost any thing rather than starve.
Straw, pine boards, the bark of trees, grain sacks,
pieces of old leather, do not come amiss with him
when he is hungry. There were many instances,
during the late war, where a team of mules were found,
of a morning, standing over the remains of what had,
the evening before, been a Government wagon.
When two or more have been kept tied to a wagon, they
have been known to eat each other’s tail off
to the bone, And yet the animal, thus deprived of
his caudal appendage, did not evince much pain.
In the South, many of the plantations
are worked with mules, driven by negroes. The
mule seems to understand and appreciate the negro;
and the negro has a sort of fellow-feeling for the
mule. Both are sluggish and stubborn, and yet
they get along well together. The mule, too, is
well suited to plantation labor, and will outlast
a horse at it. The soil is also light and sandy,
and better suited to the mule’s feet. A
negro has not much sympathy for a work-horse, and
in a short time will ruin him with abuse, whereas
he will share his corn with the mule. Nor does
the working of the soil on southern plantations overtax
the power of the mule.
The Value of Harnessing properly. In
working any animal, and more especially the mule,
it is both humane and economical to have him harnessed
properly, Unless he be, the animal cannot perform the
labor he is capable of with ease and comfort, And
you cannot watch too closely to see that every thing
works in its right place. Begin with the bridle,
and see that it does not chafe or cut him, The army
blind-bridle, with the bit alteration attached, is
the very best bridle that can be used on either horse
or mule. Be careful, however, that the crown-piece
is not attached too tight. Be careful, also,
that it does not draw the sides of the animal’s
mouth up into wrinkles, for the bit, working against
these, is sure to make the animal’s mouth sore.
The mule’s mouth is a very difficult part to
heal, and once it gets sore he becomes unfit for work.
Your bridle should be fitted well to the mule’s
head before you attempt to work him in it. Leave
your bearing-line slack, so as to allow the mule the
privilege of learning to walk easy with harness on.
It is too frequently the case, that the eyes of mules
that are worked in the Government’s service
are injured by the blinds being allowed to work too
close to the eyes. This is caused by the blind-stay
being too tight, or perhaps not split far enough up
between the eyes and ears. This stay should always
be split high enough up to allow the blinds to stand
at least one inch and a half from the eye.
Another, and even more essential part
of the harness is the collar. More mules are
maimed and even ruined altogether by improperly fitting
collars, than is generally believed by quartermasters.
It requires more judgment to fit a collar properly
on a mule than it does to fit any other part of the
harness. Get your collar long enough to buckle
the strap close up to the last hole. Then examine
the bottom, and see that there be room enough between
the mule’s neck or wind-pipe to lay your open
hand in easily. This will leave a space between
the collar and the mule’s neck of nearly two
inches. Aside from the creased neck, mules’
necks are nearly all alike in shape, They indeed vary
as little in neck as they do in feet; and what I say
on the collar will apply to them all, The teamster
has always the means in his own hands of remedying
a bad fitting collar. If the animal does not
work easy in it, if it pinch him somewhere, let it
remain in water over night, put it on the animal wet
the next morning, and in a few minutes it will take
the exact formation of the animal’s neck.
See that it is properly fitted above and below to
the hames, then the impression which the collar takes
in a natural form will be superior to the best mechanical
skill of the best harness-maker.
There is another thing about collars,
which, in my opinion, is very important. When
you are pursuing a journey with teams of mules, where
hay and grain are scarce, the animals will naturally
become poor, and their necks get thin and small.
If once the collar becomes too large, and you have
no way of exchanging it for a smaller one, of course
you must do the next best thing you can. Now,
first take the collar off the animal, lay it on a
level, and cut about one inch out of the centre.
When you have done this, try it on the animal again;
and if it still continues too large take a little
more from each side of the centre until you get it
right. In this way you can effect the remedy you
need.
In performing a long journey, the
animals will, if driven hard, soon show you where
the collar ought to be cut, They generally get sore
on the outer part of the shoulder, and this on account
of the muscle wasting away. Teamsters on the
plains and in the Western Territories cut all the
collars when starting on a trip. It takes less
time afterward to fit them to the teams, and to harness
and unharness.
When you find out where the collar
has injured the shoulder, cut it and take out enough
of the stuffing to prevent the leather from touching
the sore. In this way the animal will soon get
sound-shouldered again. Let the part of the leather
you cut hang loose, so that when you take the stuffing
out you may put it back and prevent any more than is
actually necessary from coming out.
See that your hames fit well, for
they are a matter of great importance in a mule’s
drawing. Unless your hames fit your collar well,
you are sure to have trouble with your harness, and
your mule will work badly. Some persons think,
because a mule can be accustomed to work with almost
any thing for a harness, that money is saved in letting
him do it. This is a great mistake. You
serve the best economy when you harness him well and
make his working comfortable. Indeed, a mule can
do more work with a bad-fitting collar and harness
than a man can walk with a bad-fitting boot.
Try your hames on, and draw them tight enough at the
top of the mule’s neck, so that they will not
work or roll round. They should be tight enough
to fit well without pinching the neck or shoulder,
and in fine, fit as neatly as a man’s shirt-collar.
Do not get the bulge part of your
collar down too low. If you do, you interfere
with the machinery that propels the mule’s fore
legs. Again, if you raise it too high, you at
once interfere with his wind. There is an exact
place for the bulge of the collar, and it is on the
point of the mule’s shoulder. Some persons
use a pad made of sheepskin on the toe of the collar.
Take it off, for it does no good, and get a piece of
thick leather, free from wrinkles, ten or twelve inches
long and seven wide; slit it crosswise an inch or
so from each end, leaving about an inch in the centre.
Fit this in, in place of the pad of sheepskin, and
you will have a cheaper, more durable, and cooler neck-gear
for the animal. You cannot keep a mule’s
neck in good condition with heating and quilted pads.
The same is true of padded saddles. I have perhaps
ridden as much as any other man in the service, of
my age, and yet I never could keep a horse’s
back in good condition with a padded saddle when I
rode over twenty-five or thirty miles a day.
There is another evil which ought
to be remedied. I refer now to the throat-latch.
Hundreds of mules are in a measure ruined by allowing
the throat-latch to be worked too tight. A tight
throat-latch invariably makes his head sore.
Besides, it interferes with a part which, if it were
not for, you would not have the mule his
wind. I have frequently known mules’ heads
so injured by the throat-latch that they would not
allow you to bridle them, or indeed touch their heads.
And to bridle a mule with a sore head requires a little
more patience than nature generally supplies man with.
Let a mule’s ears alone.
It is very common with teamsters and others, when
they want to harness mules, to catch them by the ears,
put twitches on their ears. Even blacksmiths,
who certainly ought to know better, are in the habit
of putting tongs and twitches in their ears when they
shoe them. Now, against all these barbarous and
inhuman practices, I here, in the name of humanity,
enter my protest. The animal becomes almost worthless
by the injuries caused by such practices. There
are extreme cases in which the twitch may be resorted
to, but it should in all cases be applied to the nose,
and only then when all milder means have failed.
But there is another, and much better,
method of handling and overcoming the vices of refractory
mules. I refer to the lariat. Throw the noose
over the head of the unruly mule, then draw him carefully
up to a wagon, as if for the purpose of bridling him.
In case he is extremely hard to bridle, or vicious,
throw an additional lariat or rope over his head,
fixing it precisely as represented in the drawing.
By this method you can hold any mule. But even
this method had better be avoided unless where it
is absolutely necessary.
It is now August, 1866. We are
working five hundred and fifty-eight animals, from
six o’clock in the morning until seven o’clock
at night, and out of this number we have not got ten
sore or galled animals. The reason is, because
we do not use a single padded saddle or collar.
Also, that the part of the harness that the heaviest
strain comes on is kept as smooth and pliable as it
is possible for it to be. Look well to your drawing-chains,
too, and see that they are kept of an even length.
If your collar gets gummy or dirty, don’t scrape
it with a knife; wash it, and preserve the smooth
surface. Your breeching, or wheel harness, is
also another very important part; see that it does
not cut and chafe the animal so as to wear the hair
off, or injure the skin. If you get this too
tight, it is impossible for the animal to stretch out
and walk free. Besides obstructing the animal’s
gait, however, the straps will hold the collar and
hames so tight to his shoulder as to make him sore
on the top of his neck. These straps should always
be slack enough to allow the mule perfect freedom
when at his best walk.
And now I have a few words to say
on Government wagons. Government wagons, as now
made, can be used for other purposes besides the army.
The large-sized Government wagon is, it has been proved,
too heavy for four horses. The smaller sized
one is nearer right; but whenever you take an ordinary
load on it (the smaller one) and have a rough country
to move through, it will give out. It is too heavy
for two horses and a light load, and yet not heavy
enough to carry twenty-five hundred or three thousand
pounds, a four-horse load, when the roads are in any
way bad. They do tolerably well about cities,
established posts, and indeed anywhere where the roads
are good, and they are not subject to much strain.
Improvements on the Government wagon have been attempted,
but the result has been failure. The more simple
you can get such wagons, the better, and this is why
the original yet stands as the best. There is,
however, great difference in the material used, and
some makers make better wagons than others. The
six and eight-mule wagon, the largest size used for
road and field purposes, is, in my humble opinion,
the very best adapted to the uses of our American
army. During the rebellion there were a great
many wagons used that were not of the army pattern.
One of these, I remember, was called the Wheeling wagon,
and used to a great extent for light work, and did
well. On this account many persons recommended
them. I could not, and for this reason: they
are too complicated, and they are much too light to
carry the ordinary load of a six-mule team. At
the end of the war it was shown that the army pattern
wagon had been worked more, had been repaired less,
and was in better condition than any other wagon used.
I refer now to those made in Philadelphia, by Wilson
& Childs, or Wilson, Childs & Co. They are known
in the army as the Wilson wagon. The very best
place to test the durability of a wagon is on the
plains. Run it there, one summer, when there
is but little wet weather, where there are all kinds
of roads to travel on and loads to carry, and if it
stands that it will stand any thing. The wagon-brake,
instead of the lock-chain, is a great and very valuable
improvement made during the War. Having a brake
on the wagon saves the time and trouble of stopping
at the top of every hill to lock the wheels, and again
at the bottom to unlock them. Officers of the
army know how much trouble this used to cause, how
it used to block up the roads, and delay the movements
of troops impatient to get ahead. The lock-chain
ground out the wagon tire in one spot. The brake
saves that; and it also saves the animal’s neck
from that bruising and chafing incident to the dead
strain that was required when dragging the locked
wheel.
There is another difficulty that has
been overcome by the wagon-brake. In stopping
to lock wheels on the top of a hill, your train get
into disorder. In most cases, when trains are
moving on the road, there is a space of ten or fifteen
feet between the wagons. Each team, then, will
naturally close up that space as it comes to the place
for halting to lock. Now, about the time the
first teamster gets his wheel locked, the one in the
rear of him is dismounting for the same purpose.
This being repeated along the train, it is not difficult
to see how the space must increase, and irregularity
follow. The more wagons you have to lock with
the drag-chain, the further you get the teams apart.
When you have a large body of wagons moving together,
it naturally follows that, with such a halt as this,
the teams in the rear must make twenty-five halts,
or stops, and starts, for everyone that the head team
makes.
When the teamster driving the second
team gets ready to lock, the first, or head team,
starts up. This excites the mule of the second
to do the same, and so all along the train. This
irritates the teamster, and he is compelled to run
up and catch the wheel-mules by the head, to make them
stop, so that he can lock his wheels. In nine
cases out of ten he will waste time in punishing his
animals for what they do not understand. He never
thinks for a moment that the mule is accustomed to
start up when the wagon ahead of him moves, and supposes
he is doing his duty. In many cases, when he
had got his wheels locked, he had so excited his mules
that they would run down the hill, cripple some of
the men, break the wagon, cause a “smash-up”
in the train, and perhaps destroy the very rations
and clothes on which some poor soldier’s life
depended. We all know what delay and disaster
have resulted from the roads being blocked up in this
manner. The brake, thanks to the inventor, offers
a remedy for all this. It also saves the neck
and shoulders of every animal in the train; it saves
the feet of the wheelers; it saves the harness; it
saves the lead and swing mules from being stopped so
quick that they cut themselves; and it saves the wheels
at least twenty per cent. Those who have had
wagons thrown over precipices, or labored and struggled
in mud and water two and three hours at a time, can
easily understand how time and trouble could have
been saved if the wagon could have been locked in
any way after it started over those places. The
best brake by all odds, is that which fastens with
a lever chain to the brake-bar. I do not like
those which attach with a rope, and for the reason
that the lazy teamster can sit on the saddle-mule
and lock and unlock, while, with the chain and lever,
he must get off. In this way he relieves the
saddle-mule’s back.
We all know that, in riding mules
down steep or long hills, you do much to stiffen them
up and wear them out.