The lore of the American West lionizes galloping horses and craggy cowboys, but when the West was settled, camels were there too, said Arizona historians.

After acquiring huge new territories, including California and Arizona, as a result of the Mexican-American War fought from 1846 to 1848, the U.S. government was confronted with the task of finding a reliable way of supplying its garrisons in the new lands.

There were questions whether horses and mules would make the journey across the scorching Sonoran and Mojave deserts with loads of guns and ammunition. That's when the military decided to try camels.

War secretary Jefferson Davis, the future Confederate president, personally approved the plan. And in 1856, the U.S. Navy ship Supply was dispatched to what is now Syria to purchase the animals.

Sailing back with the first herd of three dozen dromedaries was their Syrian driver, Hadji Ali, the U.S. Army's newest recruit.

A second trip to the Ottoman-ruled Levant brought the size of the herd to 100, and in 1857, Ali, by then nicknamed Hi Jolly, set out with his first caravan from Fort Defiance, Tex., to southern California.

That trek and many others were successfully completed.

But the intervening Civil War and expanding railroads, along with pressure from a powerful mule breeders' lobby in Washington, resulted in the military abandoning the experiment in 1864.

The camels were auctioned off, with many eventually finding themselves abandoned in the desert, which they roamed for many years afterward.

A heartbroken Ali survived by working as a scout and prospector until he died outside the town of Quartzsite in 1902.

A pyramid-shaped monument topped with a copper silhouette of a camel marks the gravesite of the Syrian, who is recognized for over 30 years of "faithful service to the U.S. government."

Hi Jolly is fondly remembered in Arizona to this day.

So when young Saudi businessman Abdul Wahed al-Saihati and Terrill, his American wife, decided in 1987 to open a camel farm to try to introduce America to camel races, the response was overwhelming.

"People roamed around the farm and climbed the fence trying to catch a glimpse of the camels," recalled Terrill.

Although the need for beasts of burden had largely disappeared, the U.S. market for camels proved to be strong.

Public and private zoos, circuses and Hollywood — which was often willing to pay up to $1,000 a day to use a camel in its productions — turned out to be some of the most frequent customers.

At Christmastime, churches eager to have a live camel in their nativity scenes joined them.

"The first female put up for sale fetched $12,000, and the first bull, $5,000," Terrill recalled fondly.

The fledgling camel business hit a rough patch, however, when Abdul and Terrill's marriage collapsed in 1994 and he left for Saudi Arabia.

Some camels were sold, guided tours stopped, and for a while it seemed the second camel experiment in Arizona would go the way of the first.

That's when Terrill's family stepped in, in an effort to save the farm.

"They are really sweet and gentle animals, very docile and very regal," says Terrill's mother, Pauline Stanley, who now lives on the farm.

The business, which is still owned by Abdul, now has 20 camels, down from 50 in its heyday, but enough to generate a small profit.

Last month, public tours resumed.

"I think we'll get big numbers next year," Terrill says. "I certainly do."

Good read HK.

Thanks Ace! I thouht so too!

Yes, a very interesting read, HK. Thanks very much. Cheers.