By western author Nick Brumby

“When the rancher went out to examine the dead beast, he found strips of rawhide wound and twisted all over his back, his shoulders, and even under his tail.”

— New York Sun, early 1890s

Courtesy: True West Magazine

For decades after the Civil War a legend terrorized the Arizona Territory. Settlers, cowboys, ranchers and miners alike reported being accosted by a mysterious blood red beast, ridden by a headless human skeleton.

Like countless other legends, this monster would have faded into obscurity – until the day a rancher discovered it was real – and killed it with a single shot.

During the 1880s, a wild menace haunted the Arizona territory. Known as the Red Ghost, and its legend grew as it roamed the land. It was said the ghost was massive, aggressive, and carried the pale white bones of its rider strapped to its back. It was said to stand 30 feet tall. It trampled a woman to death in 1883. One man claimed it disappeared right before his eyes. Another testified that it devoured a grizzly bear. A cowboy swore it charged his mount, nearly killing them both.

One of the most chilling encounters with the Red Ghost was reported by miners near the Salt River.

They claimed to have seen the creature in the dawn light, its blood red body backlit by the rising sun. They described it as an enormous, camel-like beast ridden by a skeletal figure draped in red fur. The Red Ghost moved so quickly and quietly that it seemed to be a mere apparition, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

Another bone-chilling sighting took place a few years later, when a farmer in Phoenix reported finding his orchard trampled and his livestock in a panic. He found large, mysterious hoof prints covering his orchard, unlike those of any known local animal. This incident, like many others, fueled the legend and the fear associated with it.

In 1883, a woman was found trampled to death, leaving clumps of reddish fur on her body and on a nearby bush. Large hoof prints were once again found in the area, but they left locals puzzled as they matched no known beast, wild or domesticated.

A short time later, two miners lay sleeping when a large creature trampled their tent.

Though they could not identify the beast, it once again left large hoof prints and tufts of red hair behind. After several further incidents, locals finally recognized the monster. It was a camel.

In the years before the Civil War, the southwest territory of the United States was expanding rapidly, and there was a great need to haul supplies between remote army outposts. With a transcontinental railroad still decades away from being built, camels were identified as a possible answer. It was thought that camels could be used to carry at least twice the amount of weight as horses or mules and might also be used in tracking and pursuing native American warriors, as they could travel without water or rest for much longer than horses. It was also suggested that the camels might carry the mail and that fast camel passenger trains might be developed to run from Missouri River points to the Pacific Coast.

Courtesy: Legends of America

In 1855 US Secretary of War Jefferson Davis approved a budget of $30,000 to form an experimental Camel Corps. By 1857 the U.S. Army had purchased and imported 75 camels. The camels were stationed in Camp Verde, in central Texas, where the Army used them as beasts of burden on short supply trips to San Antonio.

However, within a decade, though, all would be sold at auction.

The project was originally a success, with the camels carrying two to three times as much as a pack mule. When riding with cavalry units, they easily kept pace with the horses, even while carrying a full load of baggage. However, the Camel Corps experiment was abandoned when it became clear that camels were useless in combat. they were useless in fighting the American way of war.

As it turned out, camels have trouble breathing while exerting themselves and have a limited lung capacity. They also required a lot more care than horses and mules and didn’t really get along with the other animals.

To make matters worse, camels aren’t as easy-going as domesticated beasts of burden. They spit, vomit and poop at will, even on their handlers. They are also prone to biting passersby when provoked, even if that provocation is routine discipline.

Established transport interests such as the Missouri-based mule lobby soon highlighted these shortcomings, and the Camel Corps’ death knell was sounded by the advent of the American Civil War (with many camel supporters, such as Jefferson Davis, joining the Confederacy).

“They were turned loose to graze and some wandered away,” Popular Science reported in 1909. “Three of them were caught in Arkansas by Union forces, and in 1863 they were sold in Iowa at auction. Others found their way into Mexico. A few were used by the Confederate Post Office Department.” One camel was reportedly pushed off a cliff by Confederate soldiers. Another, nicknamed Old Douglas, became the property of the 43rd Mississippi Infantry, was reportedly shot and killed during the siege of Vicksburg, then buried nearby.

Many of the rest ended up in Nevada mining towns or sold to butchers and meat markets. Owners who didn’t sell their herds to travelling entertainers or zoos reportedly turned them loose in the desert — giving birth to the legend of the Red Ghost.

The legend sprang to life in 1883, when two men left their ranch house near Eagle Creek to check on their cattle. While they were out, one of the ranchers’ wives heard their dogs loudly barking, followed by a loud scream. She rushed to the window and saw what she described as a “huge, reddish colored beast” ridden by a “devilish-looking creature”, and proceeded to lock her front door and wait for the men to come back.

When the two men returned they found the other wife had been trampled to death. The men followed the footprints left by the creature the next day and found red hair in a bush.

The legend would quickly spread with various tales being told; one described the creature killing and eating a grizzly bear, while another said it disappeared into thin air when chased, but all the tales agreed that the skeleton of a man was on its back.

A cowboy tried to lasso the beast but was knocked to the ground and nearly killed by it, not before seeing the figure on the back was a skeleton.

Months after the first attacks, a group of miners spotted the Ghost along the Verde River. They opened fire at the creature, and when it fled, something shook loose and landed on the ground. The miners approached the spot where it fell. They saw a human skull lying in the dirt, bits of skin and hair still stuck to bone.
Several years later, a rancher near Eagle Creek spotted the monster grazing in his tomato patch. The man grabbed his rifle, then shot and killed the animal with a single shot. The Ghost’s reign of terror was over.

It was then confirmed that the beast was a feral, red-haired camel, with leather straps on the side stuck so tight that it was scarred. News spread back to the East Coast, where the New York Sun published a colorful report about the Red Ghost’s demise: “When the rancher went out to examine the dead beast, he found strips of rawhide wound and twisted all over his back, his shoulders, and even under his tail.” Something, or someone, was once lashed onto the camel.

It remains unknown why a dead man was attached to the back, but various tales have appeared to explain it over the years, some saying it was a prospector dying of thirst who tied himself to the back hoping it would bring him to some water, while others say it was a soldier learning to ride a camel when it suddenly bolted off.

Despite the camel’s demise, the legend of the Red Ghost has only grown over the years. One thing is for sure—being trampled by a blood-red camel in the dead of night with a moldering skeleton tied to its back would have been enough to spook anyone.

The strangest part of this story is that it is, at least in part, based on fact. In the late 19th century, wild camels really did roam the West.

About Nick Brumby

I like a good story. And of all stories, I love westerns the most.

As a kid, I spent far too many afternoons re-watching Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns, picking up ‘Shane’ for just one more read, or saddling up beside Ben Cartwright when ‘Bonanza’ was on TV each afternoon.

I’m a former journalist and I love horses, dogs, and the occasional bourbon whiskey. I live with my wife, daughter and our ever-slumbering hound in a 1800’s-era gold mining town – our house is right on top of the last working gold mine in the area. There may not be much gold left, but there’s history wherever you look.

I hope you enjoy my westerns as much as I enjoyed writing them!

Happy trails,

Nick