I studied the sawbuck pack saddle. The design, most like the one Native Americans developed, had a wooden crosspiece, like a letter X, in the front and back where the panniers were hung. The crosspieces in turn were attached to a wooden saddlelike structure. It would be dangerous, and incredibly uncomfortable, to try to sit between the crosspieces. Fortunately, the rigging wasn’t attached. The double cinches going around the mule’s chest were fastened with latigo leather through a metal ring. I unfastened the cinches, then used the latigo to create a single piece of rigging. This would at least give me a chance to stay on his back. I left the breast collar, breeching, and back and hip straps in place so the entire thing would stay put.

There seemed to be no evidence of a lead rope that I could use for reins, so I tied the baling twine together and fastened it to the halter. I stuffed extra twine in my pocket.

The mule had been eyeing me while I created the makeshift tack. After twitching his ears back and forth a few times, he sauntered up to the feeder and started to eat.

An apple or carrot would have been useful to keep him close. I doubted the mule would be thrilled with a slice of Spam. “How do you feel about people hopping up to you?”

The mule perked up his ears at my voice.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” I’d have to slide through the hole in the wall right next to him, stand, and slide the halter over his head, all in one movement. Then slip on the rigging, tighten it, and jump on. Easy-peasy.

I slung the cinch over my shoulder, grabbed the rope halter, took a deep breath, and dove through the hole in the wall.

The mule seemed unperturbed by my actions. He continued to eat, which was good. Mules could startle and land with both feet in a person’s back.

I stood, looped a piece of twine around his neck, then put my hand over his nose and gently rubbed between his ears. He stiffened at my action, then relaxed. I knew mules had sensitive noses from their donkey side. When I felt we’d reached some level of understanding, I put on his halter. The breeching and hip and back straps were next, which would keep everything from sliding forward, followed by the breast collar, which kept things from sliding back. After looping the cinch and latigo around his chest, I tightened it.

The mule’s ears tracked all my moves.

The roof was low enough that should the mule decide to buck, I would be a candidate for a brain concussion or worse. I hoped he wouldn’t mind if I hopped around him a few times. He obediently turned and moved free of the shed.

It was now or never. I leaped onto his back.

He didn’t move.