Wichita eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1886-1890, 1888-06-12
A PLUCKY MULE.
RUNNING THE GAUNTLET OF A
CONFEDERATE CANMONADE.

Hauling Load of Ammunition Under
Fire from Fort Sumter and Battery
Wagner-A Critical Moment-Ihe Last
Shot-Safe.
Sometimes the mule is called upon for
| special service, requiring qualities for which
he does not generally receive credit The
lines were tightening about Charleston when
Admiral Dahlgrens feet began operations in
the harbor, and rendered it practicable for
the troops on shore to advance with some
hope of being able to hold points previously
untenable. During the night detachmsnt
of the Tenth corps dsiodged picket post On
the eastern end Of Morris island and when
daylight came had thrown up quite aformid
able beginning for field work. But the place
was within easy range of Fort Sumter and
Battery Wagner, and every Confederate gun
that could be brought to bear began to drop
shell into the little earthwork. 1t was thought
that an attempt was about to be made to
carry the place by assault, and, while there
were men enough to hold it, they were little
short of ammunition The only practicable
road was mile and half of hard, smooth
sand beach, commanded from end to end by
LIE SOulcutIdtS Ddlttlieo.
But there was combination in the Federal
camp that was equal to the emergency;
namely, a feet mule and a plucky driver.
The mule is mentioned first, only because he
has long since kicked his last kick but the
driver, if he still survives, will acknowledge
that without the mule he could not have done
what he did. 1t may be assumed that the
mule had a good feed of oats before he was
called upon to run the gauntlet, and possibly
the driver, too may then have felt justified
in terrifying the inner man. Be that as it
may, just before noon a few boxes of ammu-
milton were thrown into the lightest available
wagon, and, after looking the harness over
carefully, the driver took his seat in the
shelter of the sand hills. The mule stood
with his extensive ears raking aft and a
wicked CLEAN in his eye, as if the oats were
beginning to rise into his brain.
"Good-by, boysi Cup, mulel" and the
e9uipage started down through the dry sand
to the hard level of the beach. Mule shook
his head and executed a demi-volt when he
felt the damp sand under his feet, but driver
soothed him with endearing words. 1t had not
not yet dawned upon the Confederates that the
expedition was intended for the relief of the
garrison. But presently the CLEAN of intel
ligence was indicated with rush in the
shape of shell from the southeast angle
of Sumter. 1t struck the water fairly
in line, ricocheted, and burst over in
the marsh; but it was the signal for action.
Up went the whip, and the mule gathered
his mighty hind legs under him. For mo-
ment it was uncertain whether he was going
to kick or run, but few remarks from the
driver convinced him that there was de-
mand for forward movement, so he silt out
for all he was worth" At least thirty guns
commanded that stretch of beach, and they
pounded away as fast as they could be fired.
Now and then a shell would burst rather too
near the mules ears for comfort, and he
would sheer violently and try to make for
home. But the gallant driver piled the lash,
and held him to his work
At length a ten inch shell tore up the
beach and exploded so near that the mule
was entirely demoralized: but not so his
driver. Leaping down from his seat he
caught the mule by the head backed him
rapidly round once or twice, and was off
again on the keen jump before the gunners
could get his range as a fixed object. On he
went, and at last dashed into the redoubt;
but there was no shelter in it for the mule.
His ears waved conspicuously above the low
lying parapet
The ammunition boxes were tumbled out
unceremoniously, and themules nose pointed
for homel With the ightened load and the
prospects of unlimited fodder, be beat the pre-
vious record. But the Confederate artillerists
were on their metal now. They had failed to
stop the supplies, but their hearts burned for
revenge Their shots now came more from
the rear, and bets were freely offered with no
takers, on what the result would be should
the mule have fair chance to kick a ten
inch SHE'LL as it were, son the f1yn The
crescendo scream of shell chasing him up the
beach, lent wings to his heels, and he fairly
flew toward the sheltering sand hills. There
were only few rods more to be covered,
when some careful gunner made a close cal
culation as to the frightening range, and
pulled his lanyard almost in the nick of time
The huge mass of iron struck the beach. as it
seemed to the anxious spectators, exactly be-
hind the wagon, and the next instant moth
ing was to be seen there but cloud of white
smoke and brown sand. In an instant, hoy
ever, this foated away, and the mule was
seen vigorously reducing to kindling wood
what was left of the Quartermaster's wagon.
And the driver, where is he? Well, he was
apparently knocked over by the explosion.
but he got on his feet in moment, and.
having cut the traces, was on the mules
back in another, waving his hat in response
to the cheers that rolled across the water |
from Yankee blue jackets, from Confederate
garrisons, and from the dark blue masses
that crowned the distant sand dunes.
1t is a pity that the drivers name has not |
been preserved, for his daring act certainly
deserves recognition and reward Perhaps /
he received both, but the writer has been I'M |
able to find mention of the fact.-Adrian |
Rexford in American Magazine.