The Delaware Canal by Marie Murphy Duess

Gift’s “sons and daughters.”
    Owners of working animals prefer mules to horses since their skin is harder and less sensitive than horses’ skin, and they show a natural resistance to disease and insects. Mules have a combination of hair types, with coarse main hair and a tail more like a horse than a donkey, and they don’t have pronounced arches to their necks. Their bray is mixed with that of a horse’s whinny, and they come in different sizes and shapes. There are miniature mules under thirty-six inches and others that can measure up to seventeen hands. It is interesting to note that they can also strike out with any one of their hooves and in any direction, which many canal mule drivers found out the hard way.
    They are the perfect work animal. They have a strong sense of self-preservation, which is probably why they last longer than horses, and people who have worked with them for years come to heed their mule’s actions.
    Pets of the Mines
    Mules were used extensively in the coal mines. Because of their intelligence, they knew what to do even without a mule driver leading them. When young boys were sent into the mines to handle the mules, they were told to “watch the mule and learn something.” 53

    Mules were stabled underground in the mines where boys would care for them. They were rarely brought above ground after being put to work in the mines. Courtesy of Robin G. Lightly, Mineral Resources program manager, Bureau of Mining and Reclamation, PA Department of Environmental Protection .
    The mules’ compact builds were perfect for working in the narrow passageways of the mines. They lived deep in the mines, in stables that were cut out of rock and other materials located near the “cage,” where the miners entered and left. Some never saw the light of day, which is disturbing considering how much they love to roll in the grass and stretch their muscles after a long day of work. Yet, the mine bosses knew that the mules were important to the productivity of the mines, and the animals were well cared for, perhaps even more so than the human workforce. The stables were cleaned out daily and the mules were combed, checked for sores and fed well on oats, corn and alfalfa.
    The boys who took care of the mules usually became very close to the animals, and some of them would even ask their mothers to pack sandwiches or fruit for their mules when extra food was available. Not that it was necessary since the mules would help themselves to whatever was in the boys’ lunchboxes—eggs, pork chops, bananas, bread crusts. The boys even shared plugs of tobacco with their mules, and some of the mules grew so addicted to the tobacco that they refused to work until they were given their share. 54
    According to Susan Campbell Bartoletti’s book, Growing Up in Coal County , mineworkers came to depend on the intelligence of the mules and their good memories. Miners believed that mules knew their way through the tunnels better than anyone else did, and if they lost their way, they unharnessed the mule and allowed the animal to lead them to safety.
    Their intelligence could be frustrating, however, since they knew exactly how many cars they were supposed to pull, and should a driver sneak another one on the train, the mule wouldn’t budge until it was removed. It never paid for a mule driver to be mean to a mule—the animal never forgot and usually got even no matter how long it had to wait to do so. Weeks after a boy would twist a mule’s ear or beat him with a stick, he could count on receiving a kick in the stomach or seat of his pants.
    Four-legged Canallers
    Mine mules’ lives were very different from those of the boat-pulling mules, just as life was different for the boys who drove the mules along the scenic canal than for those who worked in the black, dank atmosphere of the mines. Yet close relationships developed between the humans and the mules above