by Rod Miller
“Can we not appeal?” Lieutenant Scott asked. “Is there no recourse?”
“I’m afraid not. I have been in constant contact with army headquarters, the War Department, even members of Congress in an attempt to sway opinion. Between intransigence and reluctance to change, the deck is stacked against us. This was a gamble to start with, and I am afraid we lost—although there is no question the game was rigged.”
Rawhide Robinson tipped back his thirteen-gallon hat and stood with arms akimbo. “Well, it was fun while it lasted. I reckon I’ll go back to ridin’ horseback and punchin’ cows. Fact is, I’ve kind of missed it.”
Happy Harry said, “What is to become of us?”
“I have arranged a generous severance for you and Ibrahim. Hurry, as well—from what I am told, she will not need it, but it is hers nonetheless. In addition to financial compensation, the government will arrange passage aboard a ship bound for the Mediterranean as well as any other conveyance required to return you to your homeland should you so desire. Robinson, you, too, are due a generous monetary severance.”
“Why, thank you, Major. I suppose it will come in handy. I could use a new pair of boots.”
The major managed a sad smile. “I assure you, you will have the resources to purchase much more than a pair of boots.”
Lieutenant Scott snapped to attention and saluted the major. “Sir, it has been a pleasure serving with you. No doubt the navy will be issuing orders for my next assignment. Most likely as a ship’s officer somewhere.”
“Not so fast, Lieutenant. The War Department is launching a project to construct a thousand miles of wagon road across the desert from eastern New Mexico to the Colorado River on the Arizona-California border. They need an industrious and capable officer to oversee surveying and construction and I have recommended you for the job. It is yours if you want it.”
“Thank you, sir. I appreciate your confidence. May I ask, sir, your intentions concerning the camels?”
“Truth is, I do not know. I am ordered to dispose of them but have yet to devise a plan to do so.”
“If I accept the assignment to build the road, I believe the camels would be ideal for the project. They have certainly proved their worth and I am confident their presence would hasten and simplify the work, sir.”
“You are probably right. But there is no way the army would go along. They have made it abundantly clear they want the camels mustered out of the service.”
The lieutenant looked stricken, but being a military man—albeit a young one—he knew the futility of bucking the brass.
“The camels are for sale, are they not?” Hurry said.
The major smiled. “Why, yes, young lady, they are.”
“How many will you need for the job, Ian?”
The young officer wrinkled his brow and looked inward with his eyes as the abacus in his head worked. “I suppose fifteen head would be sufficient. But I do not have the wherewithal to purchase fifteen camels, even at bargain prices.”
Hurry smiled. “But I do.” She turned to the major. “I wish to purchase fifteen of your finest camels. I, of course, must be allowed my choice of the animals.”
Major Wayne smiled. “I am sure that can be arranged.”
CHAPTER FORTY
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Hurry negotiated the purchase of fifteen of the army’s camels and offered them to Lieutenant Ian Scott for use in building the wagon road with one stipulation—that she accompany him on the expedition. The desert road was built and the route serves travelers to this day. The budding romance between the two blossomed, and Ian resigned his commission upon completion of the mission and married the girl. Mister Ian and Missus Hurry continued on to California and established a ranch near Tejon.
Camels lived on the ranch as long as the couple lived, along with cattle, horses, and—heaven forbid—sheep. The ranch prospered under Ian’s able management and the livestock they raised, improved by Hurry’s husbandry, was in demand throughout the West. The Tejon ranch was a favored stopover and destination for travelers, where hospitality and a hot meal were always available.
Speaking of hot, tamales were always on the table at the ranch.
Hurry’s uncle and guardian, Happy Harry, signed on to care for the camels on the wagon road project. He lived for years afterward near the road’s terminus in southwestern Arizona. With the gift of a few camels from Hurry, including the majestic Tulu, he operated a freighting business to area mines. Happy Harry married, became an American citizen and, in the best tradition of his friend Rawhide Robinson, spun stories about his exploits—with emphasis on adventures with camels—to audiences large and small and far and wide.
The ever taciturn and often ornery Ibrahim took advantage of the government’s offer of transport back to his homeland. Nothing is known of his subsequent history.
Major Benjamin Wayne continued his military career and was re-assigned to the Department of War in Washington, eventually earning promotion to Quartermaster General of the United States Army. His efforts to reinstate the camel corps bore no fruit.
Our hero, Rawhide Robinson, saddled the horse acquired with his army pay, strapped silver spurs on the heels of his shiny new Texas star boots, and rode off into the sunset whistling a happy tune to pursue further adventures of bravery and daring in the Wild West.
He never again rode a dromedary (although he would have, had opportunity and necessity presented itself, as he held the oddball animals in high esteem ever after).
POSTSCRIPT
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What became of the rest of the camels?
The army found it difficult to dispose of the dromedaries upon dissolution of the camel corps. A few were acquired by showmen, angry muleros killed some out of spite, and the rest were allowed to wander away and fend for themselves in the desert southwest. Camel sightings were reported for decades afterward, including this excerpt from an account originating in the Yuma Examiner and reprinted on page two of the El Centro, California, Imperial Valley Press, on 19 June 1909:
WILD CAMELS IN DESERT
TRAVELERS FROM IMPERIAL VALLEY
TO PHOENIX
ALLEGE THEY RAN ACROSS TWO OF THESE
ANIMALS
Arrivals at Phoenix from the desert bring tidings of running into two camels between the Bonanza mine and Quartzite one day last week. They say that there is no question of this fact. They are engaged in the cattle business and were enroute to the range of the Wabash Company in Apache County and were returning from the Imperial Valley with horses.
When sighted, the camels were traveling in a southwesterly direction at a rapid rate, and as the weather was intensely warm no effort was made to run them down. It is their belief that the camels were making for the bottom lands of the Colorado River for water, the desert regions at this time being dry and water very scarce in the tanks that are usually well filled during the winter months and before the intense heat evaporates them.
The discovery of a remnant of this herd of these animals is an interesting incident. As to its reliability there is no room for doubt. A few years ago, a drove of five were reported to have been seen by two Los Angeles mining men in Mexico below Yuma, and in the vicinity of the Sierra Pinta range on United States soil others have been seen.
The existence of camels at this day is easily traced to animals imported by the government many years ago. They were assigned to perform transportation duties for the regular troops. It was finally determined to abandon them, and they were turned loose on the desert, and at intervals since remnants of the drove have been seen.
The camel was placed here originally because he is a desert animal and in the hope that his long endurance would combat the distances between water stations, as well as affording rapid communication with the troops on long marches. They were a failure due to their obstinacy in handling.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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Author of the Western Writers of America Spur Award−winning novel Rawhide Robinson Rides
the Range and Spur Finalist Rawhide Robinson Rides the Tabby Trail, Rod Miller also writes history, poetry, and magazine articles about the American West. The three-time Spur winner is also a recipient of writing awards from Westerners International, the Academy of Western Artists, and Western Fictioneers.
Born and raised in Utah, Miller lived for a time in Idaho and Nevada before returning home. He graduated from Utah State University, where he rode bucking horses for the intercollegiate rodeo team, and spent more than four decades as an award-winning advertising agency copywriter.
Learn more about the author at writerRodMiller.com and writerRodMiller.blogspot.com.
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