Donkeys and Mules

The Donkey Cart

At twenty-five, I was a teacher in a small town in Northwest China. The town was sparsely populated and being so remote, it lacked modern means of communication. In the evening, the wolves howled in the nearby hills and occasionally entered the town in quest of prey.

I spent only one year there and, being to endure the isolation, packed my bags when the summer holidays arrived and prepared to return home.

A traveler had to take a donkey cart to the nearest railhead, some twenty-five miles away. On arriving at the departure point in the center of the town, I found that all the carts, being mostly engaged in carrying local products, had left. I began to despair.

"Sir," a sibilant whisper came from a young foki whom I only knew a little (he was from the tiny Moslem restaurant), "all the carts have gone out into the country districts." Pretending, I left his remark unnoticed. As time passed, I began to feel tired and hungry. The foci approached again and said, "Sir, why not come inside to rest? There may be a donkey cart somewhere in the town. I'll try to find one for you."

"All right," I agreed, "take my baggage inside."

Having taken a table facing the street, I ordered a small pot of wine and dish of mutton, which were promptly served. A stout cheerful man, the owner of the restaurant, must have learned of my problem so he came to me.

"Relax, my friend, and I'll see what can be done," he said, rubbing his hands together.

"It's already four o'clock," I complained, "and he said, rubbing his hands together.

"Don't worry," said the innkeeper, "dry weather like this is good traveling at night."

I sat there quietly, looking at my watch occasionally, hoping to see a cart through the open door. The entrance was suddenly barred by the figure of the foki who came, shouting that business was good at the market and that all the carts had gone and were not expected to return until the morrow. The foci moved away, revealing an empty donkey cart. I leaped up, hurried to the door and I was just about to hail the driver when I realized who he was.

My hands dropped and I returned regretfully to my seat. The innkeeper gave a sympathetic smile. The driver was Lin Ng, an old man with the most unsavory reputation. Among the drivers, He couldn't be trusted. Even the children called the villain in their games Lin Ng. I had used his cart once when I arrived in the town and I remember him vividly as a melancholic with thick eye-brows, wide cheekbones, and a pinch of white mustache.

A story about him moves around the town, saying that when he was young he had been a member of a gang. They had all been punished by the law but the old foki escaped and returned to the town. He had taken the job of being a transport driver. Soon afterwards, an event occurred, which seemed to confirm his reputation. It was said that he was employed to drive a local merchant who carried a substantial sum of money. The day after the journey, the merchant was found clubbed to death in a ditch below a stretch of plateau, some miles from the town. Everyone was aware that Lin Ng was the driver who has been employed to drive the merchant.

He denied this and asserted that the merchant had transferred to another cart driven by Ngau Lo Tsun at halfway stage.

The local magistrate made a formal investigation of the case but could find no definite evidence except for some bruises in Lin Ng's arms. He was, of course, acquitted but the people of the town still considered him guilty. They avoided him and seldom made use of his service except for short journeys during the day and along well frequented roads.

The clock struck five and I realized that there was a little hope of catching my train now. Unless---?

"Ask old Lin Ng if it is still possible to catch the 9:45 train if we leave now," I said. The innkeeper looked worriedly at me but went nevertheless outside to inquire for me.

Old Lin Ng, his shabby hat in hand, said with some confidence, "I'll get you to the train in time, sir, but we must start at once.'' I looked at the innkeeper hesitantly but obstinacy urged me to put my faith in Lin Ng. I had to make the trip. ''Is the weather suitable for a night journey?'' I asked.

''It is perfect, sir,''was the reply. When I paused, again he seemed to sense the cause of my worry. ''You could always take another cart in the e morning,''he went on.

''No,''I had decided, ''I have to catch the train tonight,''I paid the bill and went outside with my baggage. Lin Ng lifted the baggage on the cart. As I climbed in, he said, ''we are ready to go now, sir. You can take a nap if you want to.''

Flatly I answered, ''I don't want to.''And worth a crack of his whip, we lurched forward.

Some three hours had passed and we were traveling across a barren plain under the darkening sky. The only signs of life were the occasional barking of the dogs as we passed near some habitations. The country side seemed to be asleep with the night wind singing a lullaby. The driver rocked and swayed rhythmically now giving a flick of the whip top the donkey. I leaned against the side of the cart grasping a large stone, which I had picked up before climbing into the vehicle.

Lin Ng glanced at the sooty lamp and at the starry snaky, then turned to me. My hand gripped the stone harder. ''Are you dozing, sir?''

''No.''

The cart began to slow down and the driver made the whip sound loudly in the night air. The poor animal stretched its neck but to little avail. We were having difficulties climbing the hill from the plain. ''Get on, damn you!''Yelled Lin Ng, jumping down from the seat and moving to the rear of the cart. I felt nervous now wondering if this was a calculated move to get behind me.

''I'll have to push from the back if you will shout at the donkey.''

''Shall I get down to make the cart lighter?''

''No, just sit there, sir, please.'' He replied.

''I'd better get down for a while if only to stretch my legs/''

I jumped down and walked behind the cart while the driver strained until we reached the crest of the hill.

''Thank you. You are very kind to help my donkey. He is almost as old as I am now, route for a long time. He has been doing short journeys around the town and has forgotten this hill.''

I resumed my seat and by then, the night grew even darker; the way more rugged. The wheels creaked and groaned as though in protest of the rough terrain. Suddenly, he put his whip down in the cart and fumbled at his waist.

Would he attack me now? I wondered. I put one foot on the seat and held the stone, ready to defend myself. There was a rustle and he half turned in his seat. He struck a match and the familiar smell of tobacco smoke drifted by me/

''You want to smoke/ Sir?''

''No, I don't,''

''I have not been so far out of the town a long time, it seemed very strange to me now.''

''It's certainly strange!'' I replied,

''You are a southerner, sir. I wonder if things are strange in the south?''

I replied that things were strange in any parts of the world.

He laughed.'' Things are all strange under the sun. ''The smoke drifted over his shoulder toward me. ''Have you heard strange rumors about me in the town?''He continued, dispassionately.

''Probably.' I tried to appear in different, slightly afraid as I wonder why he had asked that question.

''I had no long journeys for years because the town folks are afraid of me. They say I was a robber once/''

''Are there such rumors?'' I pretended to be ignorant of the story.

''That's why I say this world is steerage. Rumor is more vicious than an angry serpent. Once you are bitten by it, you seldom recover. When I was young man and trying to earn a living, tried many jobs. I was a soldier for a while, and then worked in a vineyard later where I was so unhappy that I decided to return home. Just before I arrive red, a large gang of robbers was arrested near the town. People had suspected that I had been one of the gang and had escaped.''

''But how could they suspect with no evidence?'' I interrupted.

''Everyone has two lips,''he went on; ''we can't stop them from talking. Sir, you may have heard a much stronger rumor about me''

''Well … vaguely,''I answered.

''Let me tell you the truth. It was a night such as thin and on this same road when I was taking a leather dealer to the station. He was as friendly as you, sir. He kept talking about the business situation while smoking owner cigarette after another. Midway, we met an empty cart going slowly in the same direction. I knew the driver, Ngau Lo Taunt, and asked him if he would like to take my passenger ate rest of the way to thru station as I was very tired mad wanted to be home early. He explained that he had lost his whip and that his lamp. My passenger gave me the half fee and I took it, glad that I could go home'''

''The next day, It was reported that the merchant had been found dead in the ditch below the road, and several people knew that head been my passenger, so I was arrested. But there was no proof, so I was eventually released. I went to see Lo Tsun who told me that three robbers who demanded money from the merchant had ambushed his cart. When he refused to pay, they clubbed him to death and chased him away. Lo Tsun went on to say that as long as we remained poor, people would not suspect us of robbing the merchant. But them, in spite of my poverty, sir, no one believes me.''

I felt uneasy, while I contemplated his trouble. It seemed rather than unfair. I loosened my grip on the stone and lit a cigarette.

''Look, sir ''he pointed, ''there is the very spot where I handed over my passenger. There by that date tree. ''I believe you.''

''I can't really blame you for not doing so,''He continued.'' Once a rumor has begun. It is difficult to stop it.''

We remained silent for a long time. The singular sound was that of the revolving loneliness of the autumn night. In the northern China, the evenings are usually quiet.

''Are you sleeping, sir? What time is it now?''

''I wasn't asleep,''I replied, bending towards the lamp to look at my watch, ''it's almost nine.''

''If only my donkey were more energetic. I would have been on my way back by now.'' I cautiously dropped the stone over the side and Lin Ng stopped the cart. ''Did you drop something, sir?''

''No, perhaps it was a stone thrown up by the wheels.''

He waved his why [and the cart advanced once again. We could see some lights in the distance. A locomotive whistle could be hearted and I realized that nay journey was almost over.

''Sir, write, if you please, to your friends back in the town so that I can have more long distance journeys.''

''I would, ''I assured him.

We entered the city and I gave the old man a doubt fee. He made his farewell and left to get a drink at the inn. His shadow soon disappeared. I must write that letter. I may help the poor man.

The green bray is the special forces

A donkey in French is un

37 celcious degrees

A baby sloth is simply called a baby sloth.

No, just because you don't see them much, it doesn't mean they're endangered.

an organism which is the result of mating between the two species of different genera

example; mating between donkey and horse create mules

It's a calf

.

The baby of a carabao is commonly referred to as a calf. The mother or female carabao is usually called a dam. Carabaos are domesticated water buffaloes found in several parts of the Philippines.

I don't suggest you do, because donkeys do not like water. If you decide to bathe your donkey, you will need:

-water

-horse shampoo

-sponge

-sweat scraper

Be sure to get ALL the shampoo out.

Was Francis a real mule? Yes.

Did he really talk? No.

2000

If you are talking about a friend that is a member of the "furry fandom" another way of saying "Furry Friend" is "Anthro" or "Friend that likes furry stuff" Some suggest the term "Furiend" but it sounds improper when used in normal speech.

Farm

Donkey is already singular.

The plural is donkeys.

All male mules, like other mammalian hybrids, are completely sterile. Female mules can be persuaded to ovulate and can be crossed with horses, donkeys or other equids.

Yes they should but only at an appropriate weaning age which is typically around 4-6 months old.

Well to tell you the truth I can't give you a exact MPH but they are not as fast as a horse.

Wild donkeys are usually only found in Africa, however, domesticated donkeys can be found on sheep farms (they are great protectors of sheep and goats) or on any regular livestock farm.

The natural enemy of the donkey is the coyote, so donkeys naturally dislike any canines.

Yes, and mules. There are lots of good quality donkeys in the USA and Canada thanks to the Spanish.

Ane. the French word for donkey.

carrots... lots and lots of carrots

Apparently this has been researched to a considerable extent due to the false statement that more people are killed by donkeys than die in airplane crashes. Studies and reviews have tried top only one donkey related death in the past 30 years. Horses in America kill 20 people a year, dogs even more. In the entire world donkey deaths are potentially more common as many countries use them as potential beast of burden but the events are unreported and no data exists.

The one death noted was in Egypt and was caused by man mistreating his donkey which eventually had enough and bit him.

Facts like this are often called "Factoids" as they look like facts but are invented by pretend experts.