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.