Redemption - Leon Uris [187]
“Well, you certainly can’t coddle a mule,” Ellsworth prodded. “How do you discipline them?”
“First, you give him his dignity. Make pals. Let him know you are in this together. Sir, I tame horses the same way. I don’t believe in breaking an animal. You talk to the mule by his name, give him the good word, always have some oats in your pocket. He’ll work himself to death for you, if he loves you.”
“You don’t break horses?” Ellsworth said very puzzled.
“Rory Landers talks a saddle onto a horse,” Tarbox said.
“Must take forever,” Jeremy said.
“A few hours, most of the time. All you really have to do is get across the idea he shouldn’t be afraid of you…that’s all they want to know.”
There was a silent time to digest this incredible idea from the officers, who had been rough riders most of their lives.
“I’m interested in your comment that the handlers, not the mules, are generally the ones at fault.”
“Yes, sir. Mules are a lot smarter than horses. If the mule feels something isn’t right, he’ll stand fast. He’s trying to tell you something. A lot of people take that for stubbornness.”
“For example?”
“If the mule doesn’t feel he is properly loaded, he may not budge until you fix up his pack. Or, if he’s going over shifty ground, a mountain trail or a swaying bridge, he’ll stop and poke his way around till he feels secure. Horse gets his foot caught in barbed wire, he’ll jerk it out and likely rip himself. A mule will ease his foot free, carefully.”
“Fascinating,” Jeremy said.
“For the military they must be way better than a horse when it comes to transport,” Rory said.
“How’s that?”
“I’ve had them up in the mountains at night. They don’t spook at fire or noises. Ever watch their ears turn in the direction of sound? I’d wager they are excellent sentries.”
“How high is your average mule?”
“Our bucks ran around thirteen hands, jennies a hand shorter.”
“How much did you feed them a day?”
“Oh, I’d say twenty pounds of mix.”
“What will they carry?”
“About three hundred pounds, including their pack.”
Ellsworth went into the art of packing, knots, ties, halters, common ailments, care, sanitation. In the ensuing hours the Captain did not elicit a wrong or unsure answer. If this Landers chap didn’t know, he’d just say so.
At last Captain Ellsworth held up his hands and looked to Lieutenant Hubble to see if there were any further questions. “Thank you, Private Landers,” Jeremy said. “If you’ll wait outside we’ll call you back, shortly. Oh, by the bye, Tarbox tells me you knocked out the Aussie heavyweight champion.”
“Big target, sir. He was wide open.”
When the door was closed, Captain Ellsworth nodded in the affirmative and Serjeant Major Tarbox grinned widely. “Hubble, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him,” the Captain said.
“I pray to God he writes well enough to put together a simplified manual.”
“I’ve just the man to actually write the manual, sir,” Tarbox said quickly.
“Who is he?”
“Private Chester Goodwood. Actual fact, he’s English.”
“Does he know anything about mules?”
“He knows about writing. He wrote the love letters for half the lads aboard the Wagga Wagga. I mean he used words like ‘jasmine blooming in the spring.’”
“And he’s a pal of yours?”
“Sir, this kid’s old man is Sir Stanford Goodwood, a big-time banker in Hong Kong. He’ll be of unspeakable value when it comes time to work out the logistics.”
“Very well, we’ll interview him later,” Jeremy said. “So, you wouldn’t hesitate to give Landers a go as paddock master?” Jeremy confirmed with the Captain.
“I’d wager on him,” Ellsworth retorted.
“I have a good feeling, too,” Jeremy said. “He’s not a wild man, is he, Tarbox?”
“We’re Kiwis, sir. We’re not like that Aussie crowd, no sir. Rory Landers has a very sweet disposition.”
“We still need several more key men, Captain, and I don’t see them here,” Jeremy worried.
“Let me look over some of the people at my base,” the Captain offered. “We’ve a couple of groups arriving with mule experience. There