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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 he 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.

CHAPTER III. COLOR, CHARACTER, AND PECULIARITIES OF MULES.

After being in command of the upper corral, I was ordered, on the 7th of
September, 1864, to take charge of the Eastern Branch Wagon Park,
Washington. There were at that time in the park twenty-one six-mule
trains. Each train had one hundred and fifty mules and two horses
attached. There were times, however, when we had as many as forty-two
trains of six-mule teams, with thirty men attached to each train. In a
year from the above date we handled upward of seventy-four thousand
mules, each and every one passing under my inspection and through my
hands.

In handling this large number of animals, I aimed to ascertain which was
the best, the hardest, and the most durable color for a mule. I did this
because great importance has been attached by many to the color of these
animals. Indeed, some of our officers have made it a distinguishing
feature. But color, I am satisfied, is no criterion to judge by. There
is an exception to this, perhaps, in the cream-colored mule. In most
cases, these cream-colored mules are apt to be soft, and they also lack
strength. This is particularly so with those that take after the mare,
and have manes and tails of the same color. Those that take after the
jack generally have black stripes round their legs, black manes and
tails, and black stripes down their backs and across their shoulders,
and are more hardy and better animals. I have frequently seen men, in
purchasing a lot of mules, select those of a certain color, fancying
that they were the hardiest, and yet the animals would be widely
different in their working qualities. You may take a black mule, black
mane, black hair in his ears, black at the flank, between the hips or
thighs, and black under the belly, and put him alongside of a similar
sized mule, marked as I have described above, say light, or what is
called mealy-colored, on each of the above-mentioned parts, put them in
the same condition and flesh, of similar age and soundness, and, in many
cases, the mule with the light-colored parts will wear the other out.

It is very different with the white mule. He is generally soft, and can
stand but little hardship. I refer particularly to those that have a
white skin. Next to the white and cream, we have the iron-grey mule.
This color generally indicates a hardy mule. We have now twelve teams of
iron-gray mules in the park, which have been doing hard work every day
since July, 1865; it is now January, 1866. Only one of these mules has
become unfit for service, and that one was injured by being kicked by
his mate. All our other teams have had more or less animals made unfit
for service and exchanged.

In speaking of the color of mules, it must not be inferred that there
are no mules that are all of a color that are not hardy and capable of
endurance. I have had some, whose color did not vary from head to foot,
that were capable of great endurance. But in most cases, if kept
steadily at work from the time they were three years old until they were
eight or ten, they generally gave out in some part, and became an
expense instead of profit.

Various opinions are held as to what the mule can be made to do under
the saddle, many persons asserting that in crossing the plains he can be
made to perform almost equal to the horse. This is true on the prairie.
But there he works with every advantage over the horse. In 1858, I rode
a mule from Cedar Valley, forty-eight miles north of Salt Lake City, to
Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, a distance of nearly fourteen hundred miles.
Starting from Cedar Valley on the 22d of October, I reached Fort
Leavenworth on the 31st of December. At the end of the journey the
animal was completely worn down.

In this condition I put her into Fleming's livery stable, in Leavenworth
City, and was asked if she was perfectly gentle. One would suppose that,
in such a condition, she would naturally be so. I assured the hostler
that she was; that I had ridden her nearly a year, and never knew her to
kick. That same morning, when the hostler went to feed her, she suddenly
became vicious, and kicked him very severely. She was then about twelve
years old. I have since thought that when a mule gets perfectly gentle
he is unfit for service.

Proprietors of omnibuses, stage lines, and city railroads have, in many
cases, tried to work mules, as a matter of economy; but, as a general
thing, the experiment proved a failure, and they gave it up and returned
to horses. The great reason for this failure was, that the persons
placed in charge of them knew nothing of their disposition, and lacked
that experience in handling them which is so necessary to success. But
it must be admitted that, as a general thing, they are not well adapted
for road or city purposes, no matter how much you may understand driving
and handling them.

The mule may be made to do good service on the prairies, in supplying
our army, in towing canal boats in hauling cars inside of coal mines--
these are his proper places, where he can jog along and take his own
time, patiently. Work of this kind would, however, in nearly all cases,
break down the spirit of the horse, and render him useless in a very
short time.

I have seen it asserted that there were mules that had been known to
trot in harness in three minutes. In all my experience, I have never
seen any thing of the kind, and do not believe the mule ever existed
that could do it. It is a remarkably good road horse that will do this,
and I have never yet seen a mule that could compare for speed with a
good roadster. I have driven mules, single and double, night and day,
from two to ten in a team, and have handled them in every way that it is
possible to handle them, and have in my charge at this time two hundred
of the best mule teams in the world, and there is not a span among them
that could be forced over the road in four minutes. It is true of the
mule that he will stand more abuse, more beating, more straining and
constant dogging at him than any other animal used in a team. But all
the work you can get out of him, over and above an ordinary day's work,
you have to work as hard as he does to accomplish.

Some curious facts have come under my knowledge as to what the mule can
endure. These facts also illustrate what can be done with the animal by
persons thoroughly acquainted with his character. While on the plains, I
have known Kiowa and Camanche Indians to break into our pickets during
the night, and steal mules that had been pronounced completely broken
down by white men. And these mules they have ridden sixty and sixty-five
miles of a single night. How these Indians managed to do this, I never
could tell. I have repeatedly seen Mexicans mount mules that our men had
pronounced unfit for further service, and ride them twenty and
twenty-five miles without stopping. I do not mention this to show that a
Mexican can do more with the mule than an American. He cannot. And yet
there seems to be some sort of fellow-feeling between these Mexicans and
the mule. One seems to understand the other completely; and in
disposition there is very little difference. And yet the Mexican is so
brutish in dealing with animals, that I never allowed one of them to
drive a Government team for me. Indeed, a low Mexican does not seem
disposed to work for a man who will not allow him full latitude in the
abuse of animals.

_Packing Mules_.--The Mexican is a better packer than the American. He
has had more experience, and understands all its details better than any
other man. Some of our United States officers have tried to improve on
the experience of the Greaser, and have made what they called an
improvement on the Mexican pack-saddle. But all the attempts at
improvement have been utter failures. The ranchero, on the Pacific side
of the Sierra Nevadas, is also a good packer; and he can beat the
Mexican lassoing cattle. But he is the only man in the United States who
can. The reason for this is, that they went into that country when very
young, and improved on the Mexican, by having cattle, mules, and horses
round them all the time, and being continually catching them for the
purpose of branding and marking.

There is, in Old as well as New Mexico, a class of mules that are known
to us as Spanish, or Mexican mules. These mules are not large, but for
endurance they are very superior, and, in my opinion, cannot be
excelled. I am not saying too much when I assert, that I have seen
nothing in the United States that could compare with them. They can,
apparently, stand any amount of starvation and abuse. I have had three
Spanish mules in a train of twenty-five six-mule teams, and starting
from Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, on Colonel (since General) Sumner's
expedition, in 1857, have travelled to Walnut Creek, on the Santa Fe
route, a distance of three hundred miles, in nine days. And this in the
month of August. The usual effects of hard driving, I noticed, showed
but very little on them. I noticed also, along the march, that with a
halt of less than three hours, feeding on grass that was only tolerably
thick, they will fill up better and look in better condition for
resuming the march, than one of our American mules that had rested five
hours, and had the same forage. The breed, of course, has something to
do with this. But the animal is smaller, more compact than our mules,
and, of course, it takes less to fill him up. It stands to reason, that
a mule with a body half as large as a hogshead cannot satisfy his hunger
in the time it would take a small one. This is the secret of small mules
outlasting large ones on the prairies. It takes the large one so long to
find enough to eat, when the grass is scanty, that he has not time
enough for rest and recuperation. I often found them leaving camp, in
the morning, quite as hungry and discouraged as they were when we halted
the previous evening. With the small mule it is different. He gets
enough to eat, quick, and has time to rest and refresh himself. The
Spanish or Mexican mule, however, is better as a pack animal, than for a
team. They are vicious, hard to break, and two-thirds of them kick.

In looking over a book, with the title of "Domestic Animals," I notice
that the author, Mr. R.L. Allen, has copied from the official report of
the Agricultural Committee of South Carolina, and asserts that a mule is
fit for service sooner than a horse. This is not true; and to prove that
it is not, I will give what I consider to be ample proof. In the first
place, a mule at three years old is just as much and even more of a colt
than a horse is. And he is as much out of condition, on account of
cutting teeth, distemper, and other colt ailments, as it is possible to
be. Get a three year old mule tired and fatigued, and in nine cases out
of ten he will get so discouraged that it will be next to impossible to
get him home or into camp. A horse colt, if able to travel at all, will
work his way home cheerfully; but the young mule will sulk, and in many
instances will not move an inch while life lasts. An honest horse will
try to help himself, and do all he can for you, especially if you treat
him kindly. The mule colt will, just as likely as not, do all he can to
make it inconvenient for you and him.

To show of how little service three year old mules are to the
Government, I will give the number handled by me during part of 1864 and
1865.

On the 1st of September, 1864, I had charge of five thousand and
eighty-two mules; and during the same month I received two thousand two
hundred and ten, and issued to the Armies of the Potomac, the James, and
the Shenandoah, three thousand five hundred and seventy-one, which left
us on hand, on the 1st of October, three thousand seven hundred and
twenty-one. During the month of October we received only nine hundred
and eighty, and issued two thousand five hundred and thirty, which left
us on hand, on the 1st of November, two thousand one hundred and
seventy-one. During November we received two thousand one hundred and
eighty-six, and issued to the army one thousand seven hundred and
fifty-seven, which left us on hand, on the 1st of December, two thousand
four hundred and thirty mules. Now mark the deaths.

During the month of September, 1864, there died in the corral fifteen
mules. In October, six died. In November, three; and in December, eight.
They were all two and three years old.

On the 1st of May, 1865, we had on hand four thousand and twelve head,
and received, during the same month, seven thousand nine hundred and
fifty-eight. We issued, during the same month, fifteen thousand five
hundred and sixty-three, leaving us on hand, on the 1st of June, six
thousand four hundred and eighty-seven. During this month we received
seven thousand nine hundred and fifty-one, and issued eleven thousand
nine hundred and fifteen. Our mules during these months were sent out to
be herded, and the total number of deaths during the time was
twenty-four. But two of them were over four years old. Now, it occurs to
me that it would be a great saving to the Government not to purchase any
mules under four years old. This statement of deaths at the corral is as
nothing when compared with the number of deaths of young mules in the
field. It is, in fact, well established that fully two-thirds of the
deaths in the field are of young animals under three years of age. This
waste of animal life carries with it an expense it would be difficult to
estimate, but which a remedy might easily be found for.

Now, it is well known that when a mule has reached the age of four
years, you will have very little trouble with him, so far as sickness
and disease are concerned. Besides, at the age of four he is able to
work, and work well; and he also understands better what you want him to
do.

The committee appointed to report on this subject say many mules have
been lost by feeding on cut straw and corn meal. This is something
entirely new to me; and I am of opinion that more Government mules die
because they do not get enough of this straw and meal. The same
committee say, also, that in no instance have they known them to be
inflicted with disease other than inflammation of the intestines, caused
by exposure. I only wish that the members of that committee could have
had access to the affidavits in the Quartermaster-General's department--
they would then have satisfied themselves that thousands of Government
mules have died with almost every disease the horse is subject to. And I
do not see why they should not be liable to the same diseases, since
they derive life and animation from the horse. The mule that breeds
closest after the jack, and is marked like him, is the hardiest, can
stand fatigue the best, and is less liable to those diseases common to
the horse; while those which breed close after the mare, and have no
marks of the jack about them, are liable to all of them.

In the beginning of this chapter I spoke of the color of mules. I will,
in closing, make a few more remarks on that subject, which may interest
the reader. We have now at work three dun-colored mules, that were
transferred to the Army of the Potomac in 1862, and that went through
all the campaigns of that army, and were transferred back to us in June,
1865. They had been steadily at work, and yet were in good condition,
hardy, and bright, when they were turned in. These mules have a black
stripe across their shoulders, down their backs, and are what is called
"dark-colored duns." We also have the only full team that has gone
through all the campaigns of the Army of the Potomac. It was fitted up
at Annapolis, Md., in September, 1861, under Captain Santelle, A.Q.M.
They are now in fine condition, and equal to any thing we have in the
corral. The leaders are very fine animals. They are fourteen hands high,
one weighing eight hundred, and the other eight hundred and forty-five
pounds. One of the middle leaders weighs nine hundred, the other nine
hundred and forty-seven pounds, and fourteen hands and a half high.

CHAPTER IV. DISEASES MULES ARE LIABLE TO.--WHAT HE CAN DRAW, ETC., ETC.

The committee also say that the mule is a more steady animal in his
draft than the horse. I think this the greatest mistake the committee
has made. You have only to observe the manner in which a dray or
heavily-loaded wagon will toss a mule about, and the way he will toss
himself around on the road, to be satisfied that the committee have
formed an erroneous opinion on that point. In starting with a load, the
mule, in many cases, works with his feet as if they were set on a pivot,
and hence does not take so firm a hold of the ground as the horse does.
I have never yet seen a mule in a dray or cart that could keep it from
jolting him round. In the first place, he has not the power to steady a
dray; and, in the second place, they never can be taught to do it. In
fine, they have not the formation to handle a dray or cart. What, then,
becomes of the idea that they are as steady in drays or teams as the
horse.

The committee also say that mules are not subject to such ailments as
horses--spavin, glanders, ringbone, and bots. If I had the committee
here, I would show its members that every other mule in the
quartermasters' department, over fifteen and a half hands high, is
either spavined, ringboned, or ill some way injured by the above-named
diseases. The mule may not be so liable to spavin as the horse, but he
has ringbone just the same. I cannot, for the life of me, see how the
committee could have fallen into this error. There is this, however, to
be taken into consideration: the mule is not of so sensitive a nature as
the horse, and will bear pain without showing it in lameness. The close
observer, however, can easily detect it. One reason why they do not show
spavin and ringbone so much at the horse, is because our blacksmiths do
not cut their heels as low as they do a horse's, and consequently that
part of the foot is not made to work so hard. If you believe a mule has
a ringbone, and yet is not lame, just cut his heel down low, and give
him a few good pulls in a muddy place, and he will soon develop to you
both lameness and ringbone. Cut his toes down and leave his heels high,
and he will not be apt to go lame with it.

The committee also say that a Mr. Elliott, of the Patuxent Furnaces,
says they hardly ever had a mule die of disease. This is a strange
statement; for the poorest teams I ever saw, and the very worst bred
stock, were on the Patuxent River, through the southern part of
Maryland, and at the markets on Washington City. It is pitiable to see,
as you can on market days, the shabby teams driven by the farmers of
eastern and southern Maryland. A more broken-hearted, poverty-stricken,
and dejected-looking set of teams can be seen nowhere else. The people
of Maryland have raised good horses; it is high time they waked up to
the necessity, and even profit, of raising a better kind of mule.

In regard to the draft power of mules, in comparison with horses, there
are various opinions; and yet it is one which ought to be easily
settled. I have tested mules to the very utmost of their strength, and
it was very rare to find a pair that could draw thirty hundred weight a
single year, without being used up completely. Now, it is well known
that in the northern and western States you can find any number of pairs
of horses that will draw thirty-five and forty hundred weight anywhere.
And they will keep doing it, day after day, and retain their condition.

There was one great difficulty the Agricultural Committee of South
Carolina had to contend with, and it was this. At the time it had the
subject of the mule under consideration, he was not used generally
throughout the United States. I can easily understand, therefore, that
the committee obtained its knowledge from the very few persons who had
them, and made the best report it could under the circumstances. Indeed,
I firmly believe the report was written with the intention of giving
correct information, but it failed entirely. In recommending any thing
of this kind, great care should be taken not to lead the inexperienced
astray, and to give only such facts as are obtained from thorough
knowledge; and no man should be accepted as authority in the care and
treatment of animals, unless he has had long experience with them, and
has made them a subject of study.

A few words more on breaking the mule. Don't fight or abuse him. After
you have harnessed him, and he proves to be refractory, keep your own
temper, slack your reins, push him round, backward and forward, not
roughly; and if he will not go, and do what you want, tie him to a post
and let him stand there a day or so without food or water. Take care,
also, that he does not lie down, and be careful to have a person to
guard him, so that he does not foul in the harness. If he will not go,
after a day or two of this sort of treatment, give him one or two more
of it, and my word for it, he will come to his senses and do any thing
you want from that time forward. Some persons assert that the mule is a
very cunning animal; others assert that he is dull and stupid, and
cannot be made to understand what you want. He is, I admit, what may be
called a tricky animal; but, for experiment sake, just play one or two
tricks with him, and he will show you by his action that he understands
them well. Indeed, he knows a great deal more than he generally gets
credit for, and few animals are more capable of appreciating proper
treatment. Like many other species of animal, there are scarcely two to
be found of precisely the same temper and disposition, if we except the
single vice of kicking, which they will all do, especially when well fed
and rested. And we can excuse even this vice in consideration of the
fact, that the mule is not a natural animal, but only an invention of
man. Some persons are inclined to think that, when a mule is a kicker,
he has not been properly broken. I doubt if you can break a mule so that
he will not kick a stranger at sight, especially if he be under six
years old. The only way to keep a mule from kicking you is to handle it
a great deal when young, and accustom it to the ways and actions of men.
You must through kindness convince it that you are not going to harm or
abuse it; and you can do that best by taking hold of it in a gentle
manner every time it appears to be frightened. Such treatment I have
always found more effective than all the beating and abusing you can
apply.

There is another fault the mule has to contend against. It is the common
belief among teamsters and others that he has less confidence in man
than the horse has, and to improve this they almost invariably apply the
whip. The reason for this want of confidence is readily found in the
fact that mule colts are never handled with that degree of kindness and
care that horse colts are. They are naturally more stubborn than the
horse, and most of those persons who undertake to halter or harness them
for the first time are even more stubborn in their disposition than the
mule. They commence to break the animal by beating him in the most
unmerciful manner, and that at once so excites the mule's stubbornness,
that many of them, in this condition, would not move an inch if you were
to cut them to pieces. And let me say here that nothing should be so
much avoided in breaking this animal as the whip. The young, unbroken
mule cannot be made to understand what you are whipping him for.

It is a habit with mule drivers in the army, many of whom are men
without feeling for a dumb animal, to whip mules just to hear their
whips crack, and to let others hear with what dexterity they can do it.
It has a very bad effect on the animals, and some means should be
applied to stop it. Army teamsters and stable-men seem to regard it as a
virtue to be cruel to animals. They soon cultivate vicious habits, and a
bad temper seems to grow up with their occupation. It naturally follows,
then, that in the treatment of their animals they do just what they
ought not to do. The Government has been a very severe sufferer by this;
and I contend that during a war it is just as necessary to have
experienced and well trained teamsters as it is to have hardened and
well trained soldiers.

The mule is peculiar in his dislikes. Many of them, when first
harnessed, so dislike a blind bridle that they will not work in it. When
you find this, let him stand for say a day in the blinders, and then
take them off, and in forty-nine cases out of fifty he will go at once.

It has been said that the mule never scares or runs away. This is not
true. He is not so apt to get frightened and run away as the horse is.
But any one who has had long experience with them in the army knows that
they will both get frightened and run away. They do not, however, lose
all their senses when they get frightened and run away, as the horse
does. Bring a mule back after he has run away, and in most cases he will
not want to do it again. A horse that has once run away, however, is
never safe afterward. Indeed, in all the tens of thousands of mules that
I have handled, I never yet found an habitual runaway. Their sluggish
nature does not incline them to such tricks. If a team attempts to run
away, one or two of them will fall down before they have gone far, and
this will stop the remainder. Attempt to put one up to the same speed
you would a horse, over a rough road, and you will have performed
wonders if he does not fall and break your bones.

The mule, especially if large, cannot stand hard roads and pavements.
His limbs are too small for his body, and they generally give out. You
will notice that all good judges of road and trotting horses like to see
a good strong bone in the leg. This is actually necessary. The mule, you
will notice, is very deficient in leg, and generally have poor muscle.
And many of them are what is called cat-hammed.

_Working Condition of Mules_.--Most persons, when they see a good, fat,
slick mule, are apt to exclaim: "What a fine mule there is!" He takes it
for granted that because the animal is fat, tall, and heavy, he must be
a good work animal. This, however, is no criterion to judge by. A mule,
to be in good condition for work, should never be any fatter than what
is known as good working condition. One of fourteen and a half hands
high, to be in good working condition, should not weigh over nine
hundred and fifty pounds. One of fifteen hands high should not weigh
over one thousand pounds. If he does, his legs will in a very short time
give out, and he will have to go to the hospital. In working a mule with
too much flesh, it will produce curbs, spavin, ringbone, or crooked
hocks. The muscles and tendons of their small legs are not capable of
carrying a heavy weight of body for any length of time. He may not, as I
have said before, show his blemishes in lameness, but it is only because
he lacks that fine feeling common to the horse. I have, singular as it
may seem, known mules that have been spavined, curbed, and ringboned,
and yet have been worked for years without exhibiting lameness.

Avoid spotted, or dapple mules; they are the very poorest animal you can
get. They cannot stand hard work, and once they get diseased and begin
to lose strength, there is no saving them. The Mexicans call them
pintos, or painted mules. We call them calico Arabians or Chickasaws.
They have generally bad eyes, which get very sore during the heat and
dust of summer, when many of them go blind. Many of the snow-white mules
are of the same description, and about as useless. Mules with the white
muzzle, or, as some term it, white-nore white, and with white rings
round the eyes, are also of but little account as work mules. They can
stand no hardship of any kind. Government, at least, should never
purchase them. In purchasing mules, you must look well to the age, form,
height, eyes, size of bone and muscle, and disposition; for these are of
more importance than his color. Get these right and you will have a good
animal.

If any gentleman wants to purchase a mule for the saddle, let him get
one bred closer after the mare than the jack. They are more docile,
handle easier, and are more tractable, and will do what you want with
less trouble than the other. If possible, also, get mare mules; they are
much more safe and trusty under the saddle, and less liable to get
stubborn. They are also better than a horse mule for team purposes. In
short, if I were purchasing mules for myself, I would give at least
fifteen dollars more for mare mules than I would for horse. They are
superior to the horse mule in every way. One reason is, that they
possess all their natural faculties, while you deprive the horse of his
by altering.

The most disagreeable and unmanageable, and I was going to say useless,
animal in the world, is a stud mule. They are no benefit to anybody, and
yet they are more troublesome than any other animal. They rarely ever
get fat, and are always fretting; and it is next to impossible to keep
them from breaking loose and getting at mares. Besides, they are
exceedingly dangerous to have amongst horses. They will frequently fly
at the horse, like a tiger, and bite, tear, and kick him to pieces. I
have known them to shut their eyes, become furious, and dash over both
man and beast to get at a mare. It is curious, also, that a white mare
seems to have the greatest attractions for them. I have known a stud
mule to take a fancy to a white mare, and it seemed impossible to keep
him away from her. Mules of all kinds, however, seem to have a peculiar
fancy for white mares and horses, and when this attachment is once
formed, it is almost impossible to separate them. If you want to drive a
herd of five hundred mules any distance, turn a white or gray mare in
among them for two or three days, and they will become so attached to
her that you may turn them out, and they will follow her anywhere. Just
let a man lead the mare, and with two men mounted you can manage the
whole herd almost as well as if they were in a team. Another way to lead
mules is, to put a bell on the mare's neck. The mules will listen for
that bell like a lot of school children, and will follow its tinkling,
with the same instinct.

Another curious thing about the mule is this: You may hitch him up
to-day for the first time, and he may become sullen and refuse to go a
step for you. This may be very provoking, and perhaps excite your
temper; but do not let it, for ten chances to one, if you take him out
of the harness to-day and put him in again to-morrow, that he will go
right off, and do any thing you want him. It is best always to get a
young mule well used to the harness before you try to work him in a
team. When you get him so that he is not afraid of the harness, you may
consider your mule two-thirds broke.

I have seen it asserted that a team of mules was more easily handled
than a team of horses. It is impossible that this can be so, for the
reason that you never can make a mule as bridle-wise as a horse. To
further prove that this cannot be so, let any reinsman put as many mules
together as there are horses in the "band wagon" of a show, or circus,
and see what he can do with them. There is not a driver living who can
rein them with the same safety that he can a horse, and for the very
reason, that whenever the mule finds that he has the advantage of you,
he will keep it in spite of all you can do.

_Mule Raising_.--I never could understand why it was that almost every
person, that raises stock, recommends big, ugly gollips of mares, for
mule-breeding. The principle is certainly a wrong one, as a little study
of nature must show. To produce a good, well-proportioned mule, you must
have a good, compact, and serviceable mare. It is just as necessary as
in the crossing of any other animal. It certainly is more profitable to
raise good animals than poor ones; and you cannot raise good mules from
bad mares, no matter what the jack is. You invariably see the bad mare
in the flabby, long-legged mule.

It has been held by some of our officers, that the mule was a better
animal for Government service, because he required less care and feed
than the horse, and would go longer without water. This, again, is a
grave mistake. The mule, if properly taken care of, requires nearly as
much forage as the horse, and should be groomed and cared for just the
same. I refer now to team animals. Such statements do a great deal of
injury, inasmuch as they encourage the men who have charge of animals to
neglect and abuse them. The teamster who hears his superior talk in this
way will soon take advantage of it. Animals of all kinds, in a wild and
natural state, have a way of keeping themselves clean. If left wild, the
mule would do it. But when man deprives them of the privileges by tying
them up and domesticating them, he must assist them in the most natural
way to keep themselves clean. And this assistance the animal appreciates
to its fullest extent.

_How to Handle a Mule Colt._--Owners and raisers of mules should pay
more attention to their habits when young. And I would give them this
advice: When the colt is six months old, put a halter on him and let the
strap hang loose. Let your strap be about four feet long, so that it
will drag on the ground. The animal will soon accustom himself to this;
and when he has, take up the end and lead him to the place where you
have been accustomed to feed him. This will make him familiar with you,
and increase his confidence. Handle his ears at times, but don't squeeze
them, for the ear is the most sensitive part of this animal. As soon as
he lets you handle his ears familiarly, put a loose bridle on him. Put
it on and take it off frequently. In this way you will secure the colt's
confidence, and he will retain it until you need him for work.

Speaking of the sensitiveness of the mule's ear, a scratch, or the
slightest injury to it, will excite their stubbornness and make them
afraid of you. I have known a mule's ear to be scratched by rough
handling, and for months afterward it was with the greatest difficulty
you could bridle him. Nothing is more important than that you should
bridle a young mule properly. I have found from experience that the best
way is this: stand on the near side, of course; take the top of the
bridle in your right hand, and the bit in your left; pass your arm
gently over his eye until that part of the arm bends his ear down, then
slip the bit into his mouth, and at the same time let your hand be
working slowly with the bearings still on his head and neck, until you
have arranged the head-stall.

It would be a saving of thousands of dollars to the Government, if, in
purchasing mules, it could get them all halter and bridle-broken.
Stablemen, in the employ of the Government, will not take the trouble to
halter and bridle-break them properly; and I have seen hundreds of
mules, in the City of Washington, totally ruined by tying them up behind
wagons while young, and literally dragging them through the streets.
These mules had never, perhaps, had a halter on before. I have seen
them, while tied in this manner, jump back, throw themselves down, and
be dragged on the ground until they were nearly dead. And what is worse,
the teamster invariably seeks to remedy this by beating them. In most
cases, the teamster would see them dragged to death before he would give
them a helping hand. If he knew how to apply a proper remedy, very
likely he would not give himself the trouble to apply it. I have never
been able to find out how this pernicious habit of tying mules behind
wagons originated; but the sooner an order is issued putting a stop to
it, the better, for it is nothing less than a costly torture. The mule,
more than any other animal, wants to see where he is going. He cannot do
this at the tail of an army wagon, though it is an excellent plan for
him to get his head bruised or his brains knocked out.

Some persons charge it as an habitual vice with the mule to pull back. I
have seen horses contract that vice, and continue it until they killed
themselves. But, in all my experience with the mule, I never saw one in
which it was a settled vice. During the time I had charge of the
receiving and issuing of horses to the army, I had a great many horses
injured seriously by this vice of pulling back. Some of these horses
became so badly injured in the spine that I had to send them to the
hospital, then under the charge of Dr. L.H. Braley. Some were so badly
injured that they died in fits; others were cured. Even when the mule
gets his neck sore, he will endure it like the ox, and instead of
pulling back, as the horse will, he will come right up for the purpose
of easing it. They do not, as some suppose, do this because of their
sore, but because they are not sensitive like the horse.

_Packing Mules_.--In looking over a copy of Mason's Farrier, or Stud
Book, by Mr. Skinner, I find it stated that a mule is capable of packing
six or eight hundred pounds. Mr. Skinner has evidently never packed
mules, or he would not have made so erroneous a statement. I have been
in all our Northern and Western Territories, in Old and New Mexico,
where nearly all the business is done by pack animals, mules, and asses;
and I have also been among the tribes of Indians bordering on the
Mexican States, where they have to a great extent adopted the Spanish
method of packing, and yet I never saw an instance when a mule could be
packed six or eight hundred pounds. Indeed, the people in these
countries would ridicule such an assertion. And here I purpose to give
the result of my own experience in packing, together with that of
several others who have long followed the business.

I also purpose to say something on what I consider the best mode of
packing, the weight suitable for each animal, and the relative gain or
loss that might result from this method of transportation, as compared
with transportation by wagon. In the first place, packing ought never to
be resorted to, because it cannot be done with profit, where the roads
are good and wagons and animals are to be had. In mountains, over
deserts and plains of sand, where forage is scant, and water only to be
had at long intervals, then the pack is a necessity, and can be used
with profit. Let it be understood, also, that in packing, the Spanish
pack-mule, as as well as saddle, is the most suitable. Second: The
Spanish method of packing is, above all others, the most ancient, the
best and most economical. With it the animal can carry a heavier burden
with less injury to himself. Third: The weight to be packed, under ever
so favorable circumstances, should never be over four hundred and fifty
pounds. Fourth: The American pack-saddle is a worthless thing, and
should never be used when any considerable amount of weight is required
to be packed.

If I had previously entertained any doubt in regard to this American
pack-saddle, it was removed by what came under my observation three
years ago. While employed in the quartermasters' depot, at Washington,
D.C., as superintendent of the General Hospital Stables, we at one time
received three hundred mules, on which the experiment of packing with
this saddle had been tried in the Army of the Potomac. It was said this
was one of General Butterfield's experiments. These animals presented no
evidence of being packed more than once; but such was the terrible
condition of their backs that the whole number required to be placed at
once under medical treatment. Officers of the army who knew Dr. Braley,
know how invariably successful he has been in the treatment of
Government animals, and how carefully he treats them. Yet, in spite of
all his skill, and with the best of shelter, fifteen of these animals
died from mortification of their wounds and injuries of the spine. The
remainder were a very long time in recovering, and when they did, their
backs, in many cases, were scarred in such a manner as to render them
unfit ever after for being used for a similar purpose. The use of the
American pack-saddle, and lack of knowledge on the part of those in
charge as to what mules were suitable for packing, did this. The
experienced packer would have seen at a glance that a large portion of
these mules were utterly unfit for the business. The experiment was a
wretched failure, but cost the Government some thousands of dollars.

I ought to mention, however, that the class of mules on which this
experiment was tried were loose, leggy animals, such as I have
heretofore described as being almost unfit for any branch of Government
service. But, by all means, let the Government abandon the American
pack-saddle until some further improvements are made in it.

Now, as to the weight a mule can pack. I have seen the Delaware Indians,
with all their effects packed on mules, going out on a buffalo hunt. I
have seen the Potawatamies, the Kickapoos, the Pawnees, the Cheyennes,
Pi-Ute, Sioux, Arapahoes, and indeed almost every tribe that use mules,
pack them to the very extent of their strength, and never yet saw the
mule that could pack what Mr. Skinner asserts. More than that, I assert
here that you cannot find a mule that will pack even four hundred
pounds, and keep his condition sixty days. Eight hundred pounds, Mr.
Skinner, is a trying weight for a horse to drag any distance. What,
then, must we think of it on the back of a mule? The officers of our
quartermasters' department, who have been out on the plains, understand
this matter perfectly. Any of these gentlemen will tell you that there
is not a pack train of fifty mules in existence, that can pack on an
average for forty days, three hundred pounds to the animal.

I will now give you the experience of some of the best mule packers in
the country, in order to show that what has been written in regard to
the mule's strength is calculated to mislead the reader. In 1856,
William Anderson, a man whom I know well, packed from the City of Del
Norte to Chihuahua and Durango, in Mexico, a distance of five hundred
miles or thereabout. Anderson and a man of the name of Frank Roberts had
charge of the pack train. They had seventy-five mules, and used to pack
boxes of dry goods, bales, and even barrels. They had two Mexican
drivers, and travelled about fifteen miles a day, at most, though they
took the very best of care of their animals. Now, the very most it was
possible for any mule in this train to get along with was two hundred
and seventy-five pounds. More than this, they did not have over
twenty-five mules out of the whole number that could pack two hundred
and fifty pounds, the average weight to the whole train being a little
less than two hundred pounds. To make this fifteen miles a day, they had
to make two drives, letting the animals stop to feed whenever they had
made seven or eight miles.

In 1858, this same Anderson packed for the expedition sent after the
Snake Indians. His train consisted of some two hundred and fifty or
three hundred mules. They packed from Cordelaine Mission to Walla Walla,
in Oregon. The animals were of a very superior kind, selected for the
purpose of packing out of a very large lot. Some of the very best of
these mules were packed with three hundred pounds, but at the end of two
weeks gave out completely.

In 1859, this same Anderson packed for a gentleman of the name of David
Reese, living at the Dalles, in Portland, Oregon. His train consisted of
fifty mules, in good average condition, many of them weighing nine
hundred and fifty pounds, and from thirteen to fourteen hands high. His
average packing was two hundred and fifty pounds. The distance was three
hundred miles, and it occupied forty days in going and returning. Such
was the severity of the labor that nearly two-thirds of the animals
became poor, and their backs so sore as to be unfit for work. This trip
was made from the Dalles, in Oregon, to Salmon Falls, on the Columbia
River. Anderson asserts it, as the result of his experience, that, in
packing fifty mules a distance of three hundred miles with two hundred
and fifty pounds, the animals will be so reduced at the end of the
journey as to require at least four weeks to bring them into condition
again. This also conforms with my own experience.

In 1857, there was started from Fort Laramie, Nebraska Territory, to go
to Fort Bridger with salt, a train of forty mules. It was in the winter;
each mule was packed with one hundred and eighty pounds, as near as we
could possibly estimate, and the train was given in charge of a man of
the name of Donovan. The weather and roads were bad, and the pack proved
entirely too heavy. Donovan did all he could to get his train through,
but was forced to leave more than two-thirds of it on the way. At that
season of the year, when grass is poor and the weather bad, one hundred
and forty or one hundred and fifty pounds is enough for any mule to
pack.

There were also, in 1857, regular pack trains run from Red Bluffs, on
the Sacramento River, in California, to Yreka and Curran River. Out of
all the mules used in these trains, none were packed with over two
hundred pounds. To sum up, packing never should be resorted to when
there is any other means of transportation open. It is, beyond doubt,
the most expensive means of transportation, even when the most
experienced packers are employed. If, however, it were necessary for the
Government to establish a system of packing, it would be a great saving
to import Mexicans, accustomed to the work, to perform the labor, and
Americans to take charge of the trains. Packing is a very laborious
business, and very few Americans either care about doing it, or have the
patience necessary to it.

CHAPTER V. PHYSICAL CONSTRUCTION OF THE MULE.

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.

CHAPTER VI. SOMETHING MORE ABOUT BREEDING MULES.

Before I close this work, I desire to say something more about breeding
mules. It has long been a popular error that to get a good mule colt you
must breed from large mares. The average sized, compact mare, is by all
odds the superior animal to breed mules from. Experience has satisfied
me that very large mules are about as useless for army service as very
large men are for troopers. You can get no great amount of service out
of either. One is good at destroying rations; the other at lowering
haystacks and corn-bins. Of all the number we had in the army, I never
saw six of these large, overgrown mules that were of much service.
Indeed, I have yet to see the value in any animal that runs or rushes to
an overgrowth. The same is true with man, beast, or vegetable. I will
get the average size of either of them, and you will acknowledge the
superiority.

The only advantage these large mares may give to the mule is in the size
of the feet and bone that they may impart. The heavier you can get the
bone and feet, the better. And yet you can rarely get even this, and for
the reason that I have before given, that the mare, in nineteen cases
out of twenty, breeds close after the jack, more especially in the feet
and legs. It makes little difference how you cross mares and jacks, the
result is almost certain to be a horse's body, a jack's legs and feet, a
jack's ears, and, in most cases, a jack's marks.

Nature has directed this crossing for the best, since the closer the
mare breeds after the jack the better the mule. The highest marked
mules, and the deepest of the different colors, I have invariably found
to be the best. What is it, let us inquire, that makes the Mexican mule
hardy, trim, robust, well-marked after the jack, and so serviceable? It
is nothing more nor less than breeding from sound, serviceable, compact,
and spirited Mexican or mustang mares. You must, in fact, use the same
judgment in crossing these animals as you would if you wanted to produce
a good race or trotting horse.

We are told, in Mason and Skinner's Stud Book, that in breeding mules
the mares should be large barrelled small limbed, with a moderate-sized
head and a good forehead. This, it seems to me, will strike our officers
as a very novel recommendation. The mule's limbs and feet are the
identical parts you want as large as possible, as everyone that has had
much to do with the animal knows. You rarely find a mule that has legs
as large as a horse. But the mule, from having a horse's body, will
fatten and fill up, and become just as heavy as the body of an
average-sized horse. Having, then, to carry this extra amount of fat and
flesh on the slender legs and feet of a jackass, you can easily see what
the result must be. No; you will be perfectly safe in getting your mule
as large-legged as you can. And by all means let the mare you breed from
have a good, sound, healthy block of a foot. Then the colt will stand
some chance of inheriting a portion of it. It is natural that the larger
you get his feet the steadier he will travel. Some persons will tell you
that these small feet are natural, and are best adapted to the animal.
But they forget that the mule is not a natural animal, only an invention
of man. Let your mare and jack be each of the average size, the jack
well marked, and No. 1 of his kind, and I will take the product and wear
out any other style of breed. Indeed, you have only to appeal to your
better judgment to convince you as to what would result from putting a
jack, seven or eight hands high, to a mare of sixteen or more.

I have witnessed some curious results in mule breeding, and which it may
be well enough to mention here. I have seen frequent instances where one
of the very best jacks in the country had been put to mares of good
quality and spirit. Putting them to such contemptible animals seemed to
degrade them, to destroy their natural will and temper. The result was a
sort of bastard mule, a small-legged, small-footed, cowardly animal,
inheriting all the vices of the mule and none of the horse's virtues--
the very meanest of his kind.

CHAPTER VII. ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE MULE.

The mule seems to have been used by the ancients in a great variety of
ways; but what should have prompted his production must for ever remain
a mystery. That they early discovered his great usefulness in making
long journeys, climbing mountains, and crossing deserts of burnings and,
when subsistence and water were scarce, and horses would have perished,
is well established. That he would soon recover from the severe effects
of these long and trying journeys must also have been of great value in
their eyes. But however much they valued him for his usefulness, they
seem not to have had the slightest veneration for him, as they had for
some other animals. I am led to believe, then, that it was his great
usefulness in crossing the sandy deserts that led to his production. It
is a proof, also, that where the ass was at hand there also was the
horse, or the mule could not have been produced. Any people with
sufficient knowledge to produce the mule would also have had sufficient
knowledge to discover the difference between him and the horse, and
would have given the preference to the horse in all service except that
I have just described. And yet, in the early history of the world, we
find men of rank, and even rulers, using them on state and similar
occasions; and this when it might have been supposed that the horse,
being the nobler animal, would have made more display.

The Scriptures tell us that Absalom, when he led the rebel hosts against
his father David, rode on a mule, that he rode under an oak, and hung
himself by the hair of his head. Then, again, we hear of the mule at the
inauguration of King Solomon. It is but reasonable to suppose that the
horse would have been used on that great occasion, had he been present.
On the other hand, it is not reasonable to suppose that the ass, or any
thing pertaining to him, was held in high esteem by a nation that
believed they were commanded by God, through their prophet Moses, not to
work the ox and the ass together. It must be inferred from this that the
ass was not held in very high esteem, and that the prohibition was for
the purpose of not degrading the ox, he being of that family of which
the perfect males were used for sacrifice. The ass, of course, was never
allowed to appear on the sacred altar. And yet He who came to save our
fallen race, and open the gates of heaven, and fulfil the words of the
prophet, rode a female of this apparently degraded race of animals when
He made his triumphal march into the city of the temple of the living
God.

List of Mules Received, died, and Shot, at the Depot of Washington,
D.C., from 1st February, 1863. to 31st July, 1866.

                1863                1864                1865

Month  Received Died  Shot Received Died  Shot Received Died  Shot

Jan.      ..     ..    ..      624   14    76   3,677    66    226
Feb.     135     96     7      329   16    62   1,603    84    150
Mar.   2,552    150     4      448   10    64   2,823    77    169
Apr.   2,906    118    61    1,305   15    47   6,102   106    223
May.   1,087     56    46    2,440   18    52  11,780    68    211
Jun.   3,848    120   118    4,410   76    48  19,304   178     49
Jul.   1,731     94   335    4,702   74   125  13,398   462     68
Aug.   5,250     51   159    5,431   88   231   1,275   284     23
Sep.   2,834     72   248    1,198   64   176   1,536     3     18
Oct.   1,166     36   202    1,468   81   134     876    ..     ..
Nov.   2,934     30   204    3,036   35   123     252     3     ..
Dec.   2,832     14   113    3,923   66   158     324     4     ..

Total 27,275    837 1,497   29,414  557 1,296  62,950 1,335  1,137

         1866
Received Died Shot

  169     ..    ..
   34      2     1
   13     ..    ..
   29      1    ..
   20      1    ..
    2     ..    ..
   62     ..    ..
   ..     ..    ..
   ..     ..    ..
   ..     ..    ..
   ..     ..    ..
   ..     ..    ..

  329      4     1

DATE                RECEIVED     DIED     SHOT
1863.............     27,275      837    1,497
1864.............     29,414      557    1,296
1865..............    62,950    1,335    1,137
1866..............       329        4        1

Total...........     119,968    2,733    3,931

PICTURES OF SOME OF OUR MOST CELEBRATED ARMY MULES.

I have had photographs taken of some of our mules. A number of these
animals performed extraordinary service in connection with the Army of
the Potomac and the Western Army. One of them, a remarkable animal, made
the great circuit of Sherman's campaign, and has an historical interest.
I propose to give you these illustrations according to their numbers.

No.1, then, is a very remarkable six-mule team. It was fitted out at
Berryville, Maryland, early in the spring of 1861, under the directions
of Captain Sawtelle, A. Q. M. They are all small, compact mules, and I
had them photographed in order to show them together. The leaders and
swing, or, as some call them, the middle leaders, have been worked
steadily together in the same team since December 31, 1861. They have
also been driven by the same driver, a colored man, of the name of
Edward Wesley Williams. He was with Captain Sawtelle until the 1st of
March, 1862; was then transferred, with his team, to the City of
Washington, and placed under a wagon-master of the name of Horn, who
belonged to Harrisburg, Pa. Wesley took good care of his team, and was
kept at constant work with it in Washington, until May 14, 1862. He was
then transferred, with his team, to a train that was ordered to join
General McClellan at Fort Monroe. He then followed the fortunes of the
Army of the Potomac up the Peninsula; was at the siege of Yorktown, the
battle of Williamsburg, and in the swamps of the Chickahominy. He was
also in the seven days' battles, and brought up at Harrison's Landing
with the Army of the Potomac. He then drove his team back to Fort
Monroe, where they were shipped, with the animals of the Army of the
Potomac, for Washington. He was set to work as soon as he reached a
landing, and participated in hauling ammunition at the second battle of
Bull Run. He then followed the army to Antietam, and from that
battle-field to Fredericksburg, where he hauled ammunition during the
terrible disaster under General Burnside. The team then belonged to a
train of which John Dorny was wagon-master. When General Hooker took
command of the army this team followed him through the Chancellorville
and Chantilly fights. It also followed the Army of the Potomac until
General Grant took command, when the train it belonged to was sent to
City Point. This brings us up to 1864. It was with the army in front of
Petersburg, and, during that winter, the saddle mule was killed by the
enemy's shot while the team was going for a load of wood. In short, they
were worked every day until Richmond was taken. In June, 1865, they were
transferred back to the City of Washington. It is now August, 1866, and
they are still working in the train, and make one of the very best teams
we have. I refer now to the leaders and swing mules, as they are the
only four that are together, and that followed the Army of the Potomac
through all its campaigns. There is not a mule of the four that is over
fourteen and a half hands high, and not one that weighs over nine
hundred pounds. This team, I ought to add here, has frequently been
without a bite of hay or grain for four or five days, and nothing to eat
but what they could pick up along the road. And there are instances when
they have been twenty-four hours without a sup of water. The experienced
eye will see that they have round, compact bodies, and stand well on
their feet.

No. 2 is the leader of the team, and for light work on the prairies,
packing, or any similar work, is a model mule. Indeed, she cannot be
surpassed. Her bone and muscle is full, and she is not inclined to run
to flesh.

No. 3 is the off-leader of the same team. She is a good eater, tough,
hardy, and a good worker,--in every way a first-class mule. I would
advise persons purchasing mules to notice her form. She is a little
sprung in the knees; but this has in no way interfered with her working.
This was occasioned by allowing the heels on her fore-feet to grow out
too much. During, and for some time after, the second battle of Bull
Run, the train to which she belonged was kept at very hard work. The
shoes that were on her at that time, to use the driver's own language,
were "put on to stay." Indeed, he informed me that they were on so long,
that he concluded they had grown to the feet. And in this case, as in
many others, for want of a little knowledge of the peculiarities of a
mule's feet, and the injury that results from over-growth, the animal
had to suffer, and was permanently injured.

No. 4 is the off-swing, or middle-leader mule. She is perfectly sound,
of good height, a good eater, and a great worker. She is also well
adapted for packing, and a tolerably good rider. Her ears and eyes are
of the very finest kind, and her whole head indicates intelligence. Her
front parts are perfection itself. She is also remarkably kind.

ILLUSTRATION 1

ILLUSTRATION 2

ILLUSTRATION 3

ILLUSTRATION 4

ILLUSTRATION 5

ILLUSTRATION 6

ILLUSTRATION 7

ILLUSTRATION 8

ILLUSTRATION 9

ILLUSTRATION 10

ILLUSTRATION 11

ILLUSTRATION 12

ILLUSTRATION 13

ILLUSTRATION 14

No. 5 is the near swing mule, or middle leader. She is what is called a
mouse-color, and is the fattest mule in the team. She underwent the
entire campaigns of the Army of the Potomac, and is to-day without a
blemish, and capable of doing as much work as any mule in the pack. Her
powers of endurance, as well as her ability to withstand starvation and
abuse, are beyond description. I have had mules of her build with me in
trains, in the Western Territories, that endured hardship and starvation
to an extent almost incredible; and yet they were remarkably kind when
well treated, and would follow me like dogs, and, indeed, try to show me
how much they could endure without flinching.

No. 6 is an off-wheel mule, of ordinary quality. I had to take the
spotted mules from the wheels of this team, as they were not equal to
the work required of them, and got very sore in front.

No. 7 is a spotted, or, as the. Mexicans call them, a calico mule. He
and his mate were sent to the Army of the Potomac about the time General
Grant took command of it. They were worked as wheel mules in the team
until 1866, when this one, like nearly all spotted animals, showed his
weak parts by letting up in his fore-feet, which became contracted to
such an extent that the surgeon had to cut them nearly off. We were
compelled to let him go barefoot until they grew out. This is one of the
spotted mules I have referred to before. You never can rely on them.

No. 8 is the mate of No. 7. His bead, ears, and front shoulder indicate
him to be of Canadian stock. His neck and front shoulder, as you will
see, are faultless. But on looking closely at his eyes you will find
them to be sore, and running water continually. I have noticed that
nearly all animals in the army that are marked in this way have weak and
inflamed eyes. A farmer should never purchase them.

No. 9 is a swing mule that has undergone a great deal of hardship. She
is tolerably well formed but inclined to kick. She is also hard to keep
in good condition, and unless great care is taken with her she would
give out in the hind feet, where she now shows considerable fullness.
When a mule's neck lacks the ordinary thickness there must be some
direct cause for it, and you should set about finding out what it is.
Lack of food is sometimes the cause. But in my opinion creased neck very
frequently so affects the passages to and from the head, that the organs
that should work in depositing flesh, fat, or muscle become deranged,
and the neck becomes weak and in a disordered state. Purchasers would do
well to discard these creased-neck mules.

No. 10 is an animal of an entirely different character from No. 9. She
is remarkably gentle and tractable, of good form, and great endurance,
and will work in any way. She is fifteen hands and one inch high, weighs
ten hundred and fifty pounds, and is seven years old. This celebrated
animal went through all of General Sherman's campaigns, and is as sound
and active to-day as a four-year old.

No. 11 is one of those peculiar animals I have described elsewhere. He
is all bones and belly. His legs are long, and of little use as legs. He
is five years old, sixteen and a half hands high, and weighs thirteen
hundred and ninety pounds. One of his hind legs shows a thorough pin.
His hocks are all out of shape, and his legs are stuck into his hoofs on
nearly the same principle that you stick a post into the ground. The
reason why his pastern-joints show so straight is, that the heels on the
hind feet have been badly trimmed when shaving. They too have been
permitted to grow too long, and thus he is thrown into the position you
now see him. This mule belongs to a class that is raised to a
considerable extent, and prized very highly in Pennsylvania. In the army
they were of very little use except to devour forage.

No. 12 is what may be called a pack mule of the first class. He is seven
years old, fifteen and a half hands high, and weighs eleven hundred and
fifty-six pounds. This animal has endured almost incredible hardships.
He is made for it, as you will readily see. He is what is called a
portly mule, but is not inclined to run to belly unless over-fed and not
worked. He has a remarkably kind disposition, is healthy, and a good
feeder. This animal has but one evil to contend with. His off hind foot
has grown too long, and plainly shows how much too far back it throws
the pastern-joint. This is in a measure the effect of bad shoeing. It is
very rare to find a blacksmith who discovers this fact until it is too
late. Now there is nothing more easy than to ruin a mule by letting his
toes grow too long. Doctor L.H. Braley, chief veterinary surgeon of the
army, is now developing a plan for shoeing mules, which I consider the
very best that has been suggested. His treatment of the foot when well,
and how to keep it so; and how to treat the foot by shoeing when it
becomes injured, is the best that can be adopted.

No. 13 is a mule that has been worked in a two-mule train which has been
in my charge for about a year. She was previously worked in a six-mule
train, as the off-wheel mule. She is five years old, rising; size,
fifteen hands and three inches high, and weighs fourteen hundred and
twenty-two pounds. She was received into the Government service at
Wheeling, Virginia, and when shipped or transferred to this depot, with
four hundred others, was but two years old, rising three. She was
worked, at least a year or more, too young; and to this cause I
attribute certain injuries which I shall speak of hereafter. This mule,
with two hundred others, was transferred to the Army of the Potomac, and
went through its campaigns from 1864 up to the fall of Richmond. She is
an excellent worker, and her neck, head, and fore shoulders are as fine
as can be. Indeed, they are a perfect development of the horse. But her
hips or flank joints are very deficient. Owing to her being worked too
young, the muscles of the hind legs have given way, and they have become
crooked. This is done frequently by the animal being placed as a wheeler
when too young, and holding back under a heavy load. If you want to see
how quick you can ruin young mules, place them in the wheels.

No. 14 is the off-wheel mule of a six-mule team. I had this mule
photographed for the purpose of showing the effects of hitching animals
so short to the team that the swingle-tree will strike or rest on their
hocks. I referred to this great evil in another place. This mule is but
six years old, sixteen hands high, and weighs nearly sixteen hundred
pounds. Aside from the hocks, she is the best made and the best looking
mule in the park; and is also a remarkably good worker. You will notice,
however, that the caps of her hocks are so swollen and calloused by the
action of the swingle-tree as to make them permanently disfigured. The
position I have placed this mule in, as relates to the wagon wheel, is
the proper position to put all wild, green, contrary or stubborn mules
in when they are hard to bridle.

This is the severest use to which a lariat can be put on mule or horse.
The person using it, however, should be careful to see that it sets well
back to the shoulder of the animal. I refer now to the part of the loop
that is around the neck. The end of the lariat should always be held by
a man, and not made fast to any part of the wagon, so that if the animal
falls or throws himself, you can slack up the lariat and save him from
injury. Three applications of the buck will conquer them so thoroughly
that you will have little trouble afterwards. Be careful to keep the
lariat, in front, as high as the mule's breast; and see also that they
are pulled up close to the front wheel before pulling it through the
hind wheel.

DISEASES COMMON TO THE MULE, AND HOW THEY SHOULD BE TREATED.

The mule does not differ materially from the horse in the diseases he is
afflicted with. He however suffers less from them, owing to lack of
sensibility. It may be useful here to make a few remarks on the various
diseases he is subject to, and to recommend a course of treatment which
I have practiced and seen practiced, and which I believe is the best
that can be applied.

DISTEMPER IN COLTS.

This disease is peculiar to young mules. Its symptoms develop with
soreness and swelling of the glands of the throat, a cough, difficulty
of swallowing, discharging at the nostrils, and general prostration. If
not properly treated it is surely fatal.

TREATMENT:--Give light bran mashes, plenty of common salt, and keep the
animal in a warm and dry stable. You need not clothe, for the mule,
unlike the horse, is not used to clothing. If the swelling under the
throat shows a disposition to ulcerate, which it generally does, do
nothing to prevent it. Encourage the ulcer, and let it come to a head
gradually, for this is the easiest and most natural way that the
trouble, which at first seems to pervade the whole system, can be got
rid of. When the ulcer appears soft enough to lance, do so, and be
careful to avoid the glands and veins. Lance through the skin in the
soft spot, which appears almost ready to break. If the throat is at any
time so swollen as to render swallowing difficult, give water
frequently, about milk warm, with nourishing feed of oats, corn, or rye
meal--the last is the best. If this treatment, which is very simple, be
carefully carried out, few animals will fail to recover.

CATARRH OR COLDS.

This disease seldom attacks the mule. We have had many thousands of them
in camp, and out of the whole number, I do not recollect of a case where
it either destroyed or disabled a single animal. In fact, it is a
question with me whether mules will take cold when kept as the
Government keeps them--camped out, or standing in sheds where the
temperature is the same as outdoors.

GLANDERS.

This is one of the most destructive of diseases with which the horse
family is afflicted, and one that has set the best veterinary skill of
the world at defiance. A remedy for it has yet to be discovered. I have
deemed it proper here, however, to carefully describe its symptoms, and
to recommend that all animals showing symptoms of it be kept by
themselves until their case be definitely ascertained. When you have
ascertained to a certainty that they are afflicted with the disease,
destroy them as quick as possible. See, too, that the place where they
have been kept is thoroughly cleansed and sprinkled with lime, for the
disease is contagious and the slightest particle of virus will spread it
anew. Farcy is but one stage of this terrible disease, but is not
necessarily fatal while in this stage. It should, however, be treated
with great care and caution. Farcy can also be conveyed to others by
inoculation. Any one who has had the field for observation the author
has for the last four years, would become convinced that the
recommendations I am about to make describe the only course to be taken
with this contagious disease. The number of its victims under my
observation were counted by thousands. All that can be done is to
prevent, if possible, the disease taking place, and to destroy when
ascertained to a certainty that the animal has contracted it. I would
say here, however, that this subject will soon be thoroughly handled in
a work soon to be published by Doctor Braley, head veterinary surgeon of
the army. He will undoubtedly throw some light on the subject that has
not yet appeared in print.

SYMPTOMS.

First:--When it appears in a natural form, without the agency of
contagion or inoculation, dryness of the skin, entire omission of
insensible perspiration, starring of the coat. Sometimes slight
discoloring can be observed about the forehead and lower part of the
ears. Drowsiness, want of lustre in the eye, slight swelling on the
inside of the hind legs, extending up to the bu-boa. This condition of
things may continue for several days, and will be followed by
enlargement between the legs. The inflammation incident to this may
entirely subside, or it may continue to enlarge, and break out in ulcers
on the _lactiles_ of the lymphatic, which accompanies the large veins.
In the last case it has appeared in the form of Farcy. This being the
case, the countenance assumes a more cheerful look, and the animal
otherwise shows signs of relief from the discharges of poisonous matter.
If it remain in this state, death is not generally the result. If the
system be toned up it will sometimes heal, and the animal will seem to
be in a recovering state of health. Yet, from watching the symptoms and
general health of the animal afterwards, you will be convinced that the
disease is only checked, not eradicated. Acting in the system, it only
waits a favorable opportunity to act as a secondary agent in colds,
general debility, or exposure, when it will make its appearance and
produce death.

But in the first case, as shown by the swelling in the hind legs, if the
swelling disappear, and general debility of the system continues; if the
eyes grow more drowsy, and discharge from the lower corners; and if this
is followed by discharge from the nostrils, slight swelling and
hardening of the sub-maxillary glands, which are between the under jaws,
then it is clearly developed glanders. All the glands in the body have
now become involved or poisoned, and death must follow in the course of
ten or fifteen days, as the constitution of the animal may not be in a
condition to combat the disease.

If this disease be annoyed by inoculation from the _farcy heads_ of
farcied animals into suppurating sores on other animals, it will be very
slow in its progress, especially if it attack the other in a region
remote from the lymphatic. If in a saddle-gall, it will make sores very
difficult to heal. If there is any such thing as checking the disease in
its progress, it is in these three cases.

I have observed that when it has been taken in a sore mouth it has
followed down the cheek to the sub-maxillary gland, and ended in a clear
case of glanders or farcy. There is another form in which this disease
can be taken, and which is, of all others, the most treacherous and
dangerous, yet never producing death without the agency of other
diseases--always carrying with it the germs of infection, and ready to
convey it to debilitated subjects and cause their death. The animal will
still live himself, and show no sign of disease further than I am about
to describe in the position. It is that which is taken in at the
nostrils and attacks the sub-maxillary glands, which become enlarged and
will remain so. When these become overloaded there will be a discharge
at the nose. That being thrown off, it may be some time before any
further discharge will be seen from the same source. In some cases, when
the discharge is constant, this can be easily distinguished from gleet
or ozena, from the healthy and natural appearance of the membranes of
the nose, which at first are pale, then become fiery red or purple. In
gleet the discharges from the nostrils, as in ozena, are of a very light
color. In glanders they are first of a deep yellow, then of a dirty
gray--almost slate color.

Mules affected with glanders of this kind, although it may seem hard
from their otherwise healthy appearance, should be destroyed. They
indeed carry with them the germs of infection and death, without any
visible marks in their appearance to warn those who have the care of
animals against their danger.

TEETHING.

As mules seldom change hands to any great extent until two or three
years old, it is not deemed necessary here to say any thing of their age
until they have reached two years, so as to give the inexperienced a
wider scope. The mule's mouth undergoes exactly the same changes as the
horse's. Between the ages of two and three these changes begin to take
place in the mule's mouth. The front incisor teeth, two above and two
below, are replaced by the horse for permanent teeth. These teeth are
larger than the others, have two grooves in the outer converse surface,
and the mark is long, narrow, deep, and black. Not having attained their
full growth, they are somewhat lower than the others, the mark in the
two next nippers being nearly worn out, and is also wearing away in the
corner nippers.

A mule at three years old ought to have the central permanent nippers
growing, the other two pairs uniting, six grinders in each jaw, above
and below, the first and fifth level with the others, and the sixth
protruding. As the permanent nippers wear and continue to grow, a narrow
portion of the cone-shaped tooth is exposed to the attrition; and they
look as if they had been compressed. This is not so, however; the mark
of some gradually disappears as the pit is worn away. At the age of
three and a half or four years the next pair of nippers will be changed,
and the mouth at that time cannot be mistaken. The central nippers will
have nearly attained their full growth, and a vacuity will be left where
the second stood; or, they will begin to peep above the gum, and the
corner ones will be diminished in breadth and worn down, the mark
becoming small and faint. At this period also the second pair of
grinders will be shed. At four years the central nippers will be fully
developed, the sharp edges somewhat worn off, and the marks shorter,
wider, and fainter. The next pair will be up, but they will be small,
with the mark deep and extending quite across. Their corner nippers will
be larger than the inside ones, yet smaller than they were, and flat,
and nearly worn out. The sixth grinder will have risen to a level with
the others; and the tushes will begin to appear in the male animal. The
female seldom has them, although the germ is always present in the jaw.
At four years and a half, or between that and five, the last important
change takes place in the mouth of the mule. The corner nippers are
shed, and the permanent ones begin to appear. When the central nippers
are considerably worn, and the next pair are showing marks of wear, the
tush will have protruded, and will generally be a full half inch in
height. Externally it has a rounded prominence, with a groove on either
side, and is evidently hollow within. At six years old the mark on the
central nippers is worn out. There will, however, still be a difference
of color in the center of the tooth. The cement filling up the hole made
by the dipping in of the enamel, will present a browner hue than the
other part of the tooth. It will be surrounded by an edge of enamel, and
there will remain a little depression in the center, and also a
depression around the case of the enamel. But the deep hole in the
center of the enamel, with the blackened surface it presents, and the
elevated edge of the enamel, will have disappeared. The mule may now be
said to have a perfect mouth, all the teeth being produced and fully
grown.

What I have said above must not be taken as a positive guide in all
cases, for mules' mouths are frequently torn, twisted, smashed, and
knocked into all kinds of shapes by cruel treatment, and the
inexperience, to use no harsher term, of those who have charge of them.
Indeed, I have known cases of cruelty so severe that it were impossible
to tell the age of the animal from his teeth.

At seven years old the mark, in the way in which I have described it, is
worn out in the four central nippers, and is also fast wearing away in
the corner teeth. I refer now to a natural mouth that has not been
subjected to injuries. At eight years old the mark is gone from all the
bottom nippers, and may be said to be quite out of the mouth. There is
nothing remaining in the bottom nippers by which the age of the mule can
be positively ascertained. The tushes are a poor guide at any time in
the life of the animal to ascertain his age by; they, more than any
other of the teeth, being most exposed to the injuries I have referred
to. From this time forward, the changes that take place in the teeth may
be of some assistance in forming an opinion; but there are no marks in
the teeth by which a year, more or less, can be positively ascertained.
You can ascertain almost as much from the general appearance of the
animal as from an examination of the mouth. The mule, if he be
long-lived, has the same effect in changing his general appearance from
youth to old age as is shown on the rest of the animal creation.

DISEASES OF THE TEETH.

There are few if any diseases to which the mule's teeth are subject,
after the permanent teeth are developed; but during the time of their
changes I have been led to believe that he suffers more inconvenience,
or at least as much as any other animal--not so much on account of the
suffering that nature inflicts upon him, as through the inexperience and
cruelty of those who are generally intrusted with his care. I will here
speak first of lampass. The animal's mouth is made sore and sensitive by
teething; and this irritation and soreness is increased by the use of
improper bits. As if this were not enough, resort is had to that
barbarous and inhuman practice of burning out lampass. This I do, and
always have protested against. If the gums are swollen from the cutting
of teeth, which is about all the cause for their inflamed and enlarged
appearance, a light stroke of a lancet or sharp knife over the gums, at
a point where the teeth are forcing their way through, and a little
regard to the animal's diet, will be all that is necessary. It must not
be forgotten, that at this time the animal's mouth is too sore and
sensitive to masticate hard food, such as corn. With the development of
the teeth, however, the lampass will generally disappear.

THE EYE.

Mules are remarkable for having good eyes. Occasionally they become
inflamed and sore. In such cases the application of cold water, and the
removing of the cause, whether it be from chafing of the blinders,
forcing the blood to the head through the influence of badly fitting
collars, or any other cause known, is all I can recommend in their case.

THE TONGUE.

Mules suffer much from injury to the tongue, caused by the bad treatment
of those who have charge of them, and also from sore month, produced in
the same manner. The best thing for this is a light decoction of
white-oak bark, applied with a sponge to the sore parts. Charcoal, mixed
in water, and applied in the same manner, is good. Any quantity of this
can be used, as it is not dangerous. If possible, give the animal
nourishing gruels, or bran mashes; and, above all, keep the bit out of
the mouth until it is perfectly healed.

POLL-EVIL.

This is a disease the mule more than all other animals is subject to.
This is more particularly so with those brought into the service of the
Government unbroken.

It will be very easily seen that the necessary course of training,
halter-breaking, &c., will expose them to many of the causes of this
disease. Aside from this, the inhuman treatment of teamsters, and others
who have charge of them, frequently produces it in its worst form. It
begins with an ulcer or sore at the junction where the head and neck
join; and from its position, more than any other cause, is very
difficult to heal. The first thing to be done, when the swelling
appears, is to use hot fomentations. If these are not at hand, use cold
water frequently. Keep the bridle and halter from the parts. In case
inflammation cannot be abated, and ulceration takes place, the only
means to effect a cure, with safety and certainty, is by the use of the
seton. This should be applied only by a hand well skilled in the use of
it. The person should also well understand the anatomy of the parts, as
injuries committed with the seton-needle, in those parts, are often more
serious and more difficult of cure than the disease caused by the first
injury.

FISTULA.

This is a disease the mule is more subject to than any other animal in
Government use. And this, on account of his being used as a beast of
burden by almost all nations and classes of people, and because he is
the worst cared for. Fistula is the result of a bruise. Some animals
have been known to produce it by rolling on stones and other hard
substances. It generally makes its appearance first in the way of a rise
or swelling where the saddle has been allowed to press too hard on the
withers, and especially when the animal has high and lean ones. As the
animal becomes reduced in flesh, the withers, as a matter of course, are
more exposed and appear higher, on account of the muscle wasting from
each side of the back-bone. This, under the saddle, can be remedied to a
great extent, by adding an additional fold to the saddle blanket, or in
making the pad of the saddle high enough to keep it from the withers. In
packing with the pack-saddle this is more difficult, as the weight is