As has been stated, until the year 1824 transportation across the plains
was done by means of pack-mules, the art of properly loading which seems
to be an intuitive attribute of the native Mexican. The American,
of course, soon became as expert, for nothing that the genus homo
is capable of doing is impossible to him; but his teacher was the
dark-visaged, superstitious, and profanity-expending Mexican arriero.
A description of the equipment of a mule-train and the method of
packing, together with some of the curious facts connected with its
movements, may not be uninteresting, particularly as the whole thing,
with rare exceptions in the regular army at remote frontier posts, has
been relegated to the past, along with the caravan of the prairie and
the overland coach. To this generation, barring a few officers who
have served against the Indians on the plains and in the mountains, a
pack-mule train would be as great a curiosity as the hairy mammoth. In
the following particulars I have taken as a model the genuine Mexican
pack-train or atajo, as it was called in their Spanish dialect, always
used in the early days of the Santa Fe trade. The Americans made
many modifications, but the basis was purely Mexican in its origin. A
pack-mule was termed a mula de carga, and his equipment consisted of
several parts; first, the saddle, or aparejo, a nearly square pad of
leather stuffed with hay, which covered the animal's back on both sides
equally. The best idea of its shape will be formed by opening a book in
the middle and placing it saddle-fashion on the back of a chair. Each
half then forms a flap of the contrivance. Before the aparejo was
adjusted to the mule, a salea, or raw sheep-skin, made soft by rubbing,
was put on the animal's back, to prevent chafing, and over it the
saddle-cloth, or xerga. On top of both was placed the aparejo, which
was cinched by a wide grass-bandage. This band was drawn as tightly
as possible, to such an extent that the poor brute grunted and groaned
under the apparently painful operation, and when fastened he seemed to
be cut in two. This always appeared to be the very acme of cruelty to
the uninitiated, but it is the secret of successful packing; the firmer
the saddle, the more comfortably the mule can travel, with less risk of
being chafed and bruised. The aparejo is furnished with a huge crupper,
and this appendage is really the most cruel of all, for it is almost
sure to lacerate the tail. Hardly a Mexican mule in the old days of the
trade could be found which did not bear the scar of this rude supplement
to the immense saddle.
The load, which is termed a carga, was generally three hundred pounds.
Two arrieros, or packers, place the goods on the mule's back, one, the
cargador, standing on the near side, his assistant on the other. The
carga is then hoisted on top of the saddle if it is a single package; or
if there are two of equal size and weight, one on each side, coupled by
a rope, which balances them on the animal. Another stout rope is then
thrown over all, drawn as tightly as possible under the belly, and laced
round the packs, securing them firmly in their place. Over the load,
to protect it from rain, is thrown a square piece of matting called a
petate. Sometimes, when a mule is a little refractory, he is blindfolded
by a thin piece of leather, generally embroidered, termed the tapojos,
and he remains perfectly quiet while the process of packing is going on.
When the load is securely fastened in its place, the blinder is removed.
The man on the near side, with his knee against the mule for a purchase,
as soon as the rope is hauled taut, cries out "Adios," and his assistant
answers "Vaya!" Then the first says again, "Anda!" upon which the mule
trots off to its companions, all of which feed around until the animals
of the whole train are packed. It seldom requires more than five minutes
for the two men to complete the packing of the animal, and in that time
is included the fastening of the aperejo. It is surprising to note the
degree of skill exercised by an experienced packer, and his apparently
abnormal strength in handling the immense bundles that are sometimes
transported. By the aid of his knees used as a fulcrum, he lifts a
package and tosses it on the mule's back without any apparent effort,
the dead weight of which he could not move from the ground.
An old-time atajo or caravan of pack-mules generally numbered from fifty
to two hundred, and it travelled a jornado, or day's march of about
twelve or fifteen miles. This day's journey was made without any
stopping at noon, because if a pack-mule is allowed to rest, he
generally tries to lie down, and with his heavy load it is difficult
for him to get on his feet again. Sometimes he is badly strained in so
doing, perhaps ruined forever. When the train starts out on the trail,
the mules are so tightly bound with the ropes which confine the load
that they move with great difficulty; but the saddle soon settles
itself and the ropes become loosened so that they have frequently to be
tightened. On the march the arriero is kept busy nearly all the time;
the packs are constantly changing their position, frequently losing
their balance and falling off; sometimes saddle, pack, and all swing
under the animal's belly, and he must be unloaded and repacked again.
On arriving at the camping-ground the pack-saddles with their loads
are ranged in regular order, their freight being between the saddles,
covered with the petates to protect it from the rain, and generally a
ditch is dug around to carry off the water, if the weather is stormy.
After two or three days' travel each mule knows its own pack and saddle,
and comes up to it at the proper moment with an intelligence that is
astonishing. If an animal should come whose pack is somewhere else, he
is soundly kicked in the ribs by the rightful mule, and sent bruised
and battered to his place. He rarely makes a mistake in relation to the
position of his own pack the second time.
This method of transportation was so cheap, because of the low rate of
wages, that wagon-freighting, even in the most level region, could
not compete with it. Five dollars a month was the amount paid to the
muleteers, but it was oftener five with rations, costing almost nothing,
of corn and beans. Meat, if used at all, was found by the arrieros
themselves.
On the trail the mule-train is under a system of discipline almost as
severe as that on board of a man-of-war. Every individual employed is
assigned to his place and has certain duties to perform. There is a
night-herder, called the savanero, whose duty it is to keep the animals
from straying too far away, as they are all turned loose to shift for
themselves, depending upon the grass alone for their subsistence. Each
herd has a mulera, or bell-mare, which wears a bell hanging to a strap
around her neck, and is kept in view of the other animals, who will
never leave her. If the mare is taken away from the herd, every mule
becomes really melancholy and is at a loss what to do or where to go.
The cook of the party, or madre (mother) as he is called, besides his
duty in preparing the food, must lead the bell-mule ahead of the train
while travelling, the pack-animals following her with a devotion that is
remarkable.
Sometimes in traversing the narrow ledges cut around the sides of a
precipitous trail, or crossing a narrow natural bridge spanning the
frightful gorges found everywhere in the mountains, a mule will be
incontinently thrown off the slippery path, and fall hundreds of feet
into the yawning canyon below. Generally instant death is their portion,
though I recall an instance, while on an expedition against the hostile
Indians thirty years ago, where a number of mules of our pack-train,
loaded with ammunition, tumbled nearly five hundred feet down an almost
perpendicular chasm, and yet some of them got on their feet again, and
soon rejoined their companions, without having suffered any serious
injury.
The wagons so long employed in this trade, after their first
introduction in 1824, were manufactured in Pittsburgh, their capacity
being about a ton and a half, and they were drawn by eight mules or the
same number of oxen. Later much larger wagons were employed with nearly
double the capacity of the first, hauled by ten and twelve mules or
oxen. These latter were soon called prairie-schooners, which name
continued to linger until transportation across the plains by wagons was
completely extinguished by the railroads.
Under Mexican rule excessive tariff imposts were instituted, amounting
to about a hundred per cent upon goods brought from the United States,
and for some years, during the administration of Governor Manuel Armijo,
a purely arbitrary duty was demanded of five hundred dollars for every
wagon-load of merchandise brought into the Province, whether great or
small, and regardless of its intrinsic value. As gold and silver were
paid for the articles brought by the traders, they were also required
to pay a heavy duty on the precious metals they took out of the country.
Yankee ingenuity, however, evaded much of these unjust taxes. When the
caravan approached Santa Fe, the freight of three wagons was transferred
to one, and the empty vehicles destroyed by fire; while to avoid paying
the export duty on gold and silver, they had large false axletrees to
some of the wagons, in which the money was concealed, and the examining
officer of the customs, perfectly unconscious of the artifice, passed
them.
The army, in its expeditions against the hostile Indian tribes, always
employed wagons in transporting its provisions and munitions of war,
except in the mountains, where the faithful pack-mule was substituted.
The American freighters, since the occupation of New Mexico by the
United States, until the transcontinental railroad usurped their
vocation, used wagons only; the Mexican nomenclature was soon dropped
and simple English terms adopted: caravan became train, and majordomo,
the person in charge, wagon-master. The latter was supreme. Upon
him rested all the responsibility, and to him the teamsters rendered
absolute obedience. He was necessarily a man of quick perception,
always fertile in expedients in times of emergency, and something of an
engineer; for to know how properly to cross a raging stream or a marshy
slough with an outfit of fifty or sixty wagons required more
than ordinary intelligence. Then in the case of a stampede, great
clear-headedness and coolness were needed to prevent loss of life.
Stampedes were frequently very serious affairs, particularly with a
large mule-train. Notwithstanding the willingness and patient qualities
of that animal, he can act as absurdly as a Texas steer, and is as
easily frightened at nothing. Sometimes as insignificant a circumstance
as a prairie-dog barking at the entrance to his burrow, a figure in the
distance, or even the shadow of a passing cloud will start every animal
in the train, and away they go, rushing into each other, and becoming
entangled in such a manner that both drivers and mules have often been
crushed to death. It not infrequently happened that five or six of the
teams would dash off and never could be found. I remember one instance
that occurred on the trail between Fort Hays and Fort Dodge, during
General Sheridan's winter campaign against the allied plains tribes
in 1868. Three of the wagons were dragged away by the mules, in a few
moments were out of sight, and were never recovered, although diligent
search was made for them for some days. Ten years afterward a farmer,
who had taken up a claim in what is now Rush County, Kansas, discovered
in a ravine on his place the bones of some animals, decayed parts of
harness, and the remains of three army-wagons, which with other evidence
proved them to be the identical ones lost from the train so many years
before.
The largest six-mule wagon-train that was ever strung out on the plains
transported the supplies for General Custer's command during the winter
above referred to. It comprised over eight hundred army-wagons, and was
four miles in length in one column, or one mile when in four lines--the
usual formation when in the field.
The animals of the train were either hobbled or herded at night,
according to the locality; if in an Indian country, always hobbled or,
preferably, tied up to the tongue of the wagon to which they belonged.
The hobble is simply a strip of rawhide, with two slides of the same
material. Placed on the front legs of the mule just at the fetlock, the
slides pushed close to the limb, the animal could move around freely
enough to graze, but was not able to travel very fast in the event of
a stampede. In the Indian country, it was usual at night, or in the
daytime when halting to feed, to form a corral of the wagons, by placing
them in a circle, the wheels interlocked and the tongues run under the
axles, into which circle the mules, on the appearance of the savages,
were driven, and which also made a sort of fortress behind which the
teamsters could more effectually repel an attack.
In the earlier trading expeditions to Santa Fe, the formation and march
of the caravan differed materially from that of the army-train in later
years. I here quote Gregg, whose authority on the subject has never been
questioned. When all was ready to move out on the broad sea of prairie,
he said:
We held a council, at which the respective claims of the
different aspirants for office were considered, leaders
selected, and a system of government agreed upon--as is
the standing custom of these promiscuous caravans.
A captain was proclaimed elected, but his powers were not
defined by any constitutional provision; consequently,
they were very vague and uncertain. Orders being only
viewed as mere requests, they are often obeyed or neglected
at the caprice of the subordinates. It is necessary to
observe, however, that the captain is expected to direct
the order of travel during the day and to designate the
camping-ground at night, with many other functions of
general character, in the exercise of which the company
find it convenient to acquiesce.
After this comes the task of organizing. The proprietors
are first notified by proclamation to furnish a list of
their men and wagons. The latter are generally apportioned
into four divisions, particularly when the company is large.
To each of these divisions, a lieutenant is appointed,
whose duty it is to inspect every ravine and creek on the
route, select the best crossings, and superintend what is
called in prairie parlance the forming of each encampment.
There is nothing so much dreaded by inexperienced travellers
as the ordeal of guard duty. But no matter what the
condition or employment of the individual may be, no one
has the slightest chance of evading the common law of
the prairies. The amateur tourist and the listless loafer
are precisely in the same wholesome predicament--they must
all take their regular turn at the watch. There is usually
a set of genteel idlers attached to every caravan, whose
wits are forever at work in devising schemes for whiling
away their irksome hours at the expense of others.
By embarking in these trips of pleasure, they are enabled
to live without expense; for the hospitable traders seldom
refuse to accommodate even a loafing companion with a berth
at their mess without charge. But these lounging attaches
are expected at least to do good service by way of guard
duty. None are ever permitted to furnish a substitute,
as is frequently done in military expeditions; for he that
would undertake to stand the tour of another besides
his own would scarcely be watchful enough for dangers
of the prairies. Even the invalid must be able to produce
unequivocal proofs of his inability, or it is a chance
if the plea is admitted.
The usual number of watchers is eight, each standing a
fourth of every alternate night. When the party is small,
the number is generally reduced, while in the case of
very small bands, they are sometimes compelled for safety's
sake to keep watch on duty half the night. With large
caravans the captain usually appoints eight sergeants
of the guard, each of whom takes an equal portion of men
under his command.
The wild and motley aspect of the caravan can be but
imperfectly conceived without an idea of the costumes of
its various members. The most fashionable prairie dress
is the fustian frock of the city-bred merchant, furnished
with a multitude of pockets capable of accommodating a
variety of extra tackling. Then there is the backwoodsman
with his linsey or leather hunting-shirt--the farmer with
his blue jean coat--the wagoner with his flannel sleeve
vest--besides an assortment of other costumes which go
to fill up the picture.
In the article of firearms there is also an equally
interesting medley. The frontier hunter sticks to his
rifle, as nothing could induce him to carry what he terms
in derision "the scatter-gun." The sportsman from the
interior flourishes his double-barrelled fowling-piece
with equal confidence in its superiority. A great many
were furnished beside with a bountiful supply of pistols
and knives of every description, so that the party made
altogether a very brigand-like appearance.
"Catch up! Catch up!" is now sounded from the captain's
camp and echoed from every division and scattered group
along the valley. The woods and dales resound with the
gleeful yells of the light-hearted wagoners who, weary of
inaction and filled with joy at the prospect of getting
under way, become clamorous in the extreme. Each teamster
vies with his fellow who shall be soonest ready; and it
is a matter of boastful pride to be the first to cry out,
"All's set."
The uproarious bustle which follows, the hallooing of those
in pursuit of animals, the exclamations which the unruly
brutes call forth from their wrathful drivers, together
with the clatter of bells, the rattle of yokes and harness,
the jingle of chains, all conspire to produce an uproarious
confusion. It is sometimes amusing to observe the athletic
wagoner hurrying an animal to its post--to see him heave
upon the halter of a stubborn mule, while the brute as
obstinately sets back, determined not to move a peg till
his own good pleasure thinks it proper to do so--his whole
manner seeming to say, "Wait till your hurry's over."
I have more than once seen a driver hitch a harnessed animal
to the halter, and by that process haul his mulishness
forward, while each of his four projected feet would leave
a furrow behind.
"All's set!" is finally heard from some teamster--
"All's set," is directly responded from every quarter.
"Stretch out!" immediately vociferates the captain.
Then the "heps!" to the drivers, the cracking of whips,
the trampling of feet, the occasional creak of wheels,
the rumbling of the wagons, while "Fall in" is heard from
head-quarters, and the train is strung out and in a few
moments has started on its long journey.
With an army-train the discipline was as perfect as that of a garrison.
The wagon-master was under the orders of the commander of the troops
which escorted the caravan, the camps were formed with regard to
strategic principles, sentries walked their beats and were visited by an
officer of the day, as if stationed at a military post.
Unquestionably the most expert packer I have known is Chris. Gilson,
of Kansas. In nearly all the expeditions on the great plains and in
the mountains he has been the master-spirit of the pack-trains. General
Sheridan, who knew Gilson long before the war, in Oregon and Washington,
regarded the celebrated packer with more than ordinary friendship.
For many years he was employed by the government at the suggestion
of General Sheridan, to teach the art of packing to the officers and
enlisted men at several military posts in the West. He received a large
salary, and for a long period was stationed at the immense cavalry depot
of Fort Riley, in Kansas. Gilson was also employed by the British army
during the Zulu war in Africa, as chief packer, at a salary of twenty
dollars a day. Now, however, since the railroads have penetrated the
once considered impenetrable fastnesses of the mountains, packing will
be relegated to the lost arts.