not like to see the
animals killed. I thought if I could get the chaplain, who had been
sent out to the execution as a sort of humane society, to see that the
animals were killed easy, to go back to camp and leave me alone with the
horses, I could kill them or not, as I chose. They brought out the ugly
mule next, and my idea was to shoot the mule through the tip of the ear,
while the chaplain stood near with a rail to push it over the bank, and
maybe the mule would flax around and kick the chaplain up a tree, or
scare him so he would leave. I took deliberate aim at the mule's ear,
told the chaplain to push hard with the rail so the corpse would be sure
to go over the cliff, and fired. Well, I have never seen such a scene in
all my life. The mule seemed to squat down, when the bullet hit the top
of his ear, then he brayed so loud that it would raise your hat right
off your head, then he jumped into the air and whirled around and kicked
in every direction with all four feet at once, fell down and rolled over
towards the chaplain, and got up, and seeming to think the chaplain
was the author of the misery, started for him, and that good man dodged
behind trees until he got a chance to climb up one, which he did, and
sat on a limb and shook his fist at the mule and me. He used quite
strong language at me for not killing the animal dead. Finally the
niggers caught the mule and the chaplain dismounted from the limb, and
came to me. I told him my carbine was out of order, and I should have to
take it apart and fix it, and that there was no knowing whether it would
shoot where I aimed it or not, after it was fixed, and I might have
trouble with the rest of the horses. It would take an hour at least to
fix the gun. He said he guessed he would go back to camp, and leave me
to finish up the slaughter, and that was what I wanted. The colored men
were anxious to go back too, so I let them tie the horses to trees, and
all go back except one, whom I knew. After they had all gone I went up
to the dozen southern men who had been watching the proceedings, and
asked one who was called colonel by the rest, if he didn't think it was
wrong to kill the horses when by a little care they could be of much
use in tilling crops. "Well, sah," said he with dignity. "If it is not
disloyalty, sah, for a southern gentleman to criticize anything that
a yankee does, I should say, sah, that it was a d----d shame, sah, to
steal our horses, and after using th