The Mule - Harvey Riley
THE MULE
A TREATISE ON THE BREEDING, TRAINING, AND USES TO WHICH HE MAY BE PUT.
BY HARVEY RILEY, SUPERINTENDENT OF THE GOVERNMENT CORRAL, WASHINGTON
D.C.
1867.
PREFACE.
There is no more useful or willing animal than the Mule. And perhaps
there is no other animal so much abused, or so little cared for. Popular
opinion of his nature has not been favorable; and he has had to plod and
work through life against the prejudices of the ignorant. Still, he has
been the great friend of man, in war and in peace serving him well and
faithfully. If he could tell man what he most needed it would be kind
treatment. We all know how much can be done to improve the condition and
advance the comfort of this animal; and he is a true friend of humanity
who does what he can for his benefit. My object in writing this book was
to do what I could toward working out a much needed reform in the
breeding, care, and treatment of these animals. Let me ask that what I
have said in regard to the value of kind treatment be carefully read and
followed. I have had thirty years' experience in the use of this animal,
and during that time have made his nature a study. The result of that
study is, that humanity as well as economy will be best served by
kindness.
It has indeed seemed to me that the Government might make a great saving
every year by employing only such teamsters and wagon-masters as had
been thoroughly instructed in the treatment and management of animals,
and were in every way qualified to perform their duties properly.
Indeed, it would seem only reasonable not to trust a man with a valuable
team of animals, or perhaps a train, until he had been thoroughly
instructed in their use, and had received a certificate of capacity from
the Quartermaster's Department. If this were done, it would go far to
establish a system that would check that great destruction of animal
life which costs the Government so heavy a sum every year.
H.R.
WASHINGTON, D.C., _April 12, 1867_.
NOTE.
I have, in another part of this work, spoken of the mule as being free
from splint. Perhaps I should have said that I had never seen one that
had it, notwithstanding the number I have had to do with. There are, I
know, persons who assert that they have seen mules that had it. I ought
to mention here, also, by way of correction, that there is another
ailment the mule does not have in common with the horse, and that is
quarter-crack. The same cause that keeps them from having quarter-crack
preserves them from splint--the want of front action.
A great many persons insist that a mule has no marrow in the bones of
his legs. This is a very singular error. The bone of the mule's leg has
a cavity, and is as well filled with marrow as the horse's. It also
varies in just the same proportion as in the horse's leg. The feet of
some mules, however, will crack and split, but in most cases it is the
result of bad shoeing. It at times occurs from a lack of moisture to the
foot; and is seen among mules used in cities, where there are no
facilities for driving them into running water every day, to soften the
feet and keep them moist.
CONTENTS.
Best Method of Breaking
Value of Kind Treatment
How to Harness
Injured by Working too Young
What the Mule can Endure
Color and Peculiar Habits
Mexican Mules, and Packing
The Agricultural Committee
Working Condition of Mules
Spotted Mules
Mule-Breeding and Raising
How Colts should be Handled
Packing Mules
Physical Constitution
Value of Harnessing Properly
Government Wagons
More about Breeding Mules
Ancient History of the Mule
Table of Statistics
14 Portraits of Celebrated Mules
Diseases Common to the Mule, and how they should be treated
CHAPTER I.
HOW MULES SHOULD BE TREATED IN BREAKING.
I have long had it in contemplation to write something concerning the
mule, in the hope that it might be of benefit to those who had to deal
with him, as well in as out of the army, and make them better acquainted
with his habits and usefulness. The patient, plodding mule is indeed an
animal that has served us well in the army, and done a great amount of
good for humanity during the late war. He was in truth a necessity to
the army and the Government, and performed a most important part in
supplying our army in the field. That he will perform an equally
important part in the future movements of our army is equally clear, and
should not be lost sight of by the Government. It has seemed to me
somewhat strange, then, that so little should have been written
concerning him, and so little pains taken to improve his quality. I have
noticed in the army that those who had most to do with him were the
least acquainted with his habits, and took the least pains to study his
disposition, or to ascertain by proper means how he could be made the
most useful. The Government might have saved hundreds of thousands of
dollars, if, when the war began, there had been a proper understanding
of this animal among its employees.
Probably no animal has been the subject of more cruel and brutal
treatment than the mule, and it is safe to say that no animal ever
performed his part better, not even the horse. In breaking the mule,
most persons are apt to get out of patience with him. I have got out of
patience with him myself. But patience is the great essential in
breaking, and in the use of it you will find that you get along much
better. The mule is an unnatural animal, and hence more timid of man
than the horse; and yet he is tractable, and capable of being taught to
understand what you want him to do. And when he understands what you
want, and has gained your confidence, you will, if you treat him kindly,
have little trouble in making him perform his duty.
In commencing to break the mule, take hold of him gently, and talk to
him kindly. Don't spring at him, as if he were a tiger you were in dread
of. Don't yell at him; don't jerk him; don't strike him with a club, as
is too often done; don't get excited at his jumping and kicking.
Approach and handle him the same as you would an animal already broken,
and through kindness you will, in less than a week, have your mule more
tractable, better broken, and kinder than you would in a month, had you
used the whip. Mules, with very few exceptions, are born kickers. Breed
them as you will, the moment they are able to stand up, and you put your
hand on them, they will kick. It is, indeed, their natural means of
defence, and they resort to it through the force of instinct. In
commencing to break them, then, kicking is the first thing to guard
against and overcome. The young mule kicks because he is afraid of a
man. He has seen those intrusted with their care beat and abuse the
older ones, and be very naturally fears the same treatment as soon as a
man approaches him. Most persons intrusted with the care of these young
and green mules have not had experience enough with them to know that
this defect of kicking is soonest remedied by kind treatment. Careful
study of the animal's nature and long experience with the animal have
taught me that, in breaking the mule, whipping and harsh treatment
almost invariably make him a worse kicker. They certainly make him more
timid and afraid of you. And just as long as you fight a young mule and
keep him afraid of you, just so long will you be in danger of his
kicking you. You must convince him through kindness that you are not
going to hurt or punish him. And the sooner you do this, the sooner you
are out of danger from his feet.
It may at times become necessary to correct the mule before he is
subdued; but before doing so he should be well bridle or halter-broken,
and also used to harness. He should also be made to know what you are
whipping him for. In harnessing up a mule that will kick or strike with
the forefeet, get a rope, or, as we term it in the army, a lariat.
Throw, or put the noose of this over his head, taking care at the same
time that it be done so that the noose does not choke him; then get the
mule on the near side of a wagon, put the end of the lariat through the
space between the spokes of the fore wheel, then pull the end through so
that you can walk back with it to the hinder wheel (taking care to keep
it tight), then pass it through the same, and pull the mule close to the
wagon. In this position you can bridle and harness him without fear of
being crippled. In putting the rope through the above places, it should
be put through the wheels, so as to bring it as high as the mule's
breast in front, and flanks in the rear. In making them fast in this
way, they frequently kick until they get over the rope, or lariat; hence
the necessity of keeping it as high up as possible. If you chance upon a
mule so wild that you cannot handle him in this way, put a noose of the
lariat in the mule's mouth, and let the eye, or the part where you put
the end of the lariat through, be so as to form another noose. Set this
directly at the root of the mule's ear, pull it tight on him, taking
care to keep the noose in the same place. But when you get it pulled
tight enough, let some one hold the end of the lariat, and, my word for
it, you will bridle the mule without much further trouble.
In hitching the mule to a wagon, if he be wild or vicious, keep the
lariat the same as I have described until you get him hitched up, then
slack it gently, as nearly all mules will buck or jump stiff-legged as
soon as you ease up the lariat; and be careful not to pull the rope too
tight when first put on, as by so doing you might split the mule's
mouth. Let me say here that I have broken thousands of four and six-mule
teams that not one of the animals had ever had a strap of harness on
when I began with them, and I have driven six-mule teams for years on
the frontier, but I have yet to see the first team of unbroken mules
that could be driven with any degree of certainty. I do not mean to say
that they cannot be got along the road; but I regard it no driving
worthy of the name when a driver cannot get his team to any place where
he may desire to go in a reasonable time--and this he cannot do with
unbroken mules. With green or unbroken mules, you must chase or herd
them along without the whip, until you get them to know that you want
them to pull in a wagon. When you have got them in a wagon, pull their
heads round in the direction you want them to go; then convince them by
your kindness that you are not going to abuse them, and in twelve days'
careful handling you will be able to drive them any way you please.
In bridling the young mule, it is necessary to have a bit that will not
injure the animal's mouth. Hundreds of mules belonging to the Government
are, in a measure, ruined by using a bridle bit that is not much thicker
than the wire used by the telegraph. I do not mean by this that the
bridle bit used by the Government in its blind bridles is not well
adapted to the purpose. If properly made and properly used, it is. Nor
do I think any board of officers could have gotten up or devised a
better harness and wagon for army purposes than those made in conformity
with the decision of the board of officers that recommended the harness
and wagon now used. The trouble with a great many of the bits is, that
they are not made up to the regulations, and are too thin. And this bit,
when the animal's head is reined up too tight, as army teamsters are
very likely to do, is sure to work a sore mouth.
There are few things in breaking the mule that should be so carefully
guarded against as this. For as soon as the animal gets a sore mouth, he
cannot eat well, and becomes fretful; then he cannot drink well, and as
his mouth keeps splitting up on the sides, he soon gets so that he
cannot keep water in it, and every swallow he attempts to take, the
water will spirt out of the sides, just above the bit. As soon as the
mule finds that he cannot drink without this trouble, he very naturally
pushes his nose into the water above where his mouth is split, and
drinks until the want of breath forces him to stop, although he has not
had sufficient water. The animal, of course, throws up its head, and the
stupid teamster, as a general thing, drives the mule away from the water
with his thirst about half satisfied.
Mules with their mouths split in this way are not fit to be used in the
teams, and the sooner they are taken out and cured the better for the
army and the Government. I have frequently seen Government trains
detained several minutes, block the road, and throw the train into
disorder, in order to give a mule with a split mouth time to drink. In
making up teams for a train, I invariably leave out all mules whose
mouths are not in a sound state, and this I do without regard to the
kind or quality of the animal. But the mule's mouth can be saved from
the condition I have referred to, if the bit be made in a proper manner.
The bit should be one inch and seven-eighths round, and five inches in
the draw, or between the rings. It should also have a sweep of one
quarter of an inch to the five inches long. I refer now to the bit for
the blind bridle. With a bit of this kind it is almost impossible to
injure the mule's mouth, unless he is very young, and it cannot be done
then if the animal is handled with proper care.
There is another matter in regard to harnessing the mule which I deem
worthy of notice here. Government teamsters, as a general thing, like to
see a mule's head reined tightly up. I confess that, with all my
experience, I have never seen the benefit there was to be derived from
this. I always found that the mule worked better when allowed to carry
his head and neck in a natural position. When not reined up at all, he
will do more work, out-pull, and wear out the one that is. At present,
nearly all the Government mule-teams are reined up, and worked with a
single rein. This is the old Virginia way of driving mules. It used to
be said that any negro knew enough to drive mules. I fear the Government
has too long acted on that idea.
I never heard but one reason given for reining the heads of a mule-team
up tight, and that was, that it made the animals look better.
The next thing requiring particular attention is the harnessing. During
the war it became customary to cut the drawing-chains, or, as some call
them, the trace-chains. The object of this was, to bring the mule close
up to his work. The theory was taken from the strings of horses used in
drawing railroad cars through cities. Horses that are used for hauling
cars in this manner are generally fed morning, noon, and night; and are
able to get out of the way of a swingle-tree, should it be let down so
low as to work on the brakes, as it did too frequently in the army.
Besides, the coupling of the car, or the part they attach the horse to,
is two-thirds the height of a common-sized animal, which, it will be
seen at a glance, is enough to keep the swingle-tree off his heels. Now,
the tongue of a Government wagon is a very different thing. In its
proper condition, it is about on an average height with the mule's
hocks; and, especially during the last two years of the war, it was
customary to pull the mule so close up to the swingle-tree that his
hocks would touch it. The result of hitching in this manner is, that the
mule is continually trying to keep out of the way of the swingle-tree,
and, finding that he cannot succeed, he becomes discouraged. And as soon
as he does this he will lag behind; and as he gets sore from this
continual banging, he will spread his hind legs and try to avoid the
blows; and, in doing this, he forgets his business and becomes
irritable. This excites the teamster, and, in ninety-nine cases out of a
hundred, he will beat and punish the animal cruelly, expecting thereby
to cure him of the trouble. But, instead of pacifying the mule, he will
only make him worse, which should, under no circumstances, be done. The
proper course to pursue, and I say so from long experience, is to stop
the team at once, and let all the traces out to a length that will allow
the swingle-tree to swing half way between the hock and the heel of the
hoof. In other words, give him room enough to step, between the collar
and swingle-tree, so that the swingle-tree cannot touch his legs when
walking at his longest stride. If the above rule be followed, the animal
will not be apt to touch the swingle-tree. Indeed, it will not be apt to
touch him, unless he be lazy; and, in that case, the sooner you get
another mule the better. I say this because one lazy mule will spoil a
good team, invariably. A lazy mule will be kept up to his work with a
whip, you will say; but, in whipping a lazy animal, you keep the others
in such a state of excitement that they are certain to get poor and
valueless.
There is another advantage in having the drawing-chains worked at the
length I have described. It is this: The officers that formed the board
that recommended the drawing-chain, also recommended a number of large
links on one end of the chain, so that it could be made longer or
shorter, as desired. If made in conformity with the recommendation of
that board of officers, it can be let out so as to fit the largest sized
mule, and can be taken up to fit the shortest. When I say this, I mean
to include such animals as are received according to the standard of the
Quartermaster-General's department.
CHAPTER II. THE DISADVANTAGES OF WORKING MULES THAT ARE TOO YOUNG.
A great many of the mules purchased by the Government during the war
were entirely too young for use. This was particularly so in the West,
where both contractor and inspector seemed anxious only to get the
greatest number they could on the hands of the Government, without
respect to age or quality. I have harnessed, or rather tried to harness,
mules during the war, that were so young and small that you could not
get collars small enough to fit them. As to the harness, they were
almost buried in it. A great many of these small mules were but two
years old. These animals were of no use to the Government for a long
time. Indeed, the inspector might just as well have given his
certificate for a lot of milk cows, so far as they added to our force of
transportation. Another source of trouble has been caused through a
mistaken opinion as to what a young mule could do, and how he ought to
be fed. Employers and others, who had young mules under their charge
during the war, had, as a general thing, surplus forage on hand. When
they were in a place where nine pounds of grain could be procured, and
fourteen of hay, the full allowance was purchased. The surplus resulting
from this attracted notice, and many wondered why it was that the
Government did not reduce the forage on the mule. These persons did not
for a moment suspect, or imagine, that a three year old mule has so many
loose teeth in his mouth as to be hardly able to crack a grain of corn,
or masticate his oats.
Another point in that case is this: at three years old, a mule is in a
worse condition, generally, than he is at any other period in life. At
three, he is more subject to distemper, sore eyes, and inflammation of
all parts of the head and body. He becomes quite weak from not being
able to eat, gets loose and gaunt, and is at that time more subject and
more apt to take contagious diseases than at any other change he may go
through. There is but one sure way to remedy this evil. Do not buy three
year old mules to put to work that it requires a five or six year old
mule to perform. Six three year old mules are just about as fit to
travel fifteen miles per day, with an army wagon loaded with twenty-five
hundred and their forage, as a boy, six years of age, is fit to do a
man's work. During the first twelve months of the war, I had charge of
one hundred and six mule-teams, and I noticed in particular, that not
one solitary mule as high as six years old gave out on the trips that I
made with the teams. I also noticed that, on most occasions, the three
year olds gave out, or became so leg-weary that they could scarce walk
out of the way of the swingle-tree, whereas those of four and upward
would be bright and brisk, and able to eat their forage when they came
to camp. The three year old mules would lie down and not eat a bite,
through sheer exhaustion. I also noticed that nearly all the three year
old mules that went to Utah, in 1857, froze to death that winter, while
those whose ages varied from four, and up to ten, stood the winter and
came out in the spring in good working condition. In August, 1855, I
drove a six-mule team to Fort Riley, in Kansas Territory, from Fort
Leavenworth, on the Missouri River, loaded with twelve sacks of grain.
It took us thirteen days to make the trip. When we reached Fort Riley
there were not fifty mules, in the train of one hundred and fifty, that
would have sold at public sale for thirty dollars, and a great many gave
out on account of being too young and the want of proper treatment. In
the fall of 1860, I drove a six-mule team, loaded with thirty hundred
weight, twenty-five days' rations for myself and another man, and twelve
days' storage for the team, being allowed twelve pounds to each mule per
day. I drove this team to Fort Laramie, in Nebraska Territory, and from
there to Fort Leavenworth, on the Missouri River. I made the drive there
and back in thirty-eight days, and laid over two and a half days out of
that. The distance travelled was twelve hundred and thirty-six miles.
After a rest of two days, I started with the same team, and drove to
Fort Scott, in Kansas Territory, in five days, a distance of one hundred
and twenty miles. I went with Harney's command, and, for the most part
of the time, had no hay, and was forced to subsist our animals on dry
prairie grass, and had a poor supply of even that. Notwithstanding this,
I do not believe that any mule in the team lost as much as ten pounds of
flesh. Each of these mules, let me say, was upward of five years old.
In 1858, I took a train of mules to Camp Floyd, in Utah, forty-eight
miles south of Salt Lake City; During the march there were days and
nights that I could not get a drop of water for the animals. The young
mules, three and four years old, gave out from sheer exhaustion; while
the older ones kept up, and had to draw the wagons along. Now, there are
many purposes to which a young mule may be put with advantage; but they
are altogether unfit for army purposes, and the sooner the Government
stops using them, the better.
When they are purchased for army use, they are almost sure to be put
into a train, and turned over to the tender mercies of some teamster,
who knows nothing whatever about the character of the animal. And here
let me say that thousands of the best mules in the army, during the war,
were ruined and made useless to the Government on account of the
incompetency and ignorance of the wagon-masters and teamsters who had to
deal with them. Persons who own private teams and horses are generally
particular to know the character of the person who takes care of them,
and to ascertain that he knows his business. Is he a good driver? Is he
a good groom? Is he careful in feeding and watering? These are the
questions that are asked; and if he has not these qualities he will not
do. But a teamster in the army has none of these questions put to him.
No; he is intrusted with a valuable team, and expected to take proper
care of it when he has not the first qualification to do so. If he is
asked a question at all, it is merely if he has ever driven a team
before. If he answer in the affirmative, and there are any vacancies, he
is employed at once, though he may not know how to lead a mule by the
head properly. This is not alone the case with teamsters. I have known
wagon-masters who really did not know how to straighten out a six-mule
team, or, indeed, put the harness on them properly. And yet the
wagon-master has almost complete power over the train. It will be
readily seen from this, how much valuable property may be destroyed by
placing incompetent men in such places. Wagon-masters, it seems to me,
should not be allowed, under any circumstances, to have or take charge
of a train of animals of any kind until they are thoroughly competent to
handle, harness, and drive a six-animal team.
There is another matter which needs essential improvement. I refer now
to the men who are placed as superintendents over our Government corrals
and depots for animals. Many of these men know little of either the
horse or the mule, and are almost entirely ignorant of what is necessary
for transportation. A superintendent should have a thorough knowledge of
the character and capacity of all kinds of animals necessary for a good
team. He should know at sight the age and weight of animals, should be
able to tell the most suitable place for different animals in a team,
and where each would be of the most service. He should know all parts of
his wagon and harness at a glance, be able to take each portion apart
and put them together again, each in its proper shape and place, and,
above all, he should have practical experience with all kinds of animals
that are used in the army. This is especially necessary during war.