The MAD TRAPPER
OF RAT RIVER

No one knew who he was or why he came to the
Frozen North, but he carried on a desperate and
relentless one-man war with the Mounted Police,

By

REI HH. GODSELL
geRGG) Sy) E.R-E.S:

*

WARTHY Louchoux Indians
squatted on the floor of the Hud-
son’s Bay Company’s log trading

store at Fort McPherson at the mouth
of the mighty Mackenzie River, await-
ing their turn to barter their beaver
and muskrat skins with William Firth,
the factor. It was hot that July day in
1931. Even the distant mountains
forming the divide between the

yx.
oH

|

Le
sas

Philip H. Godsell

Former Inspecting Officer of the Hud-
son’s Bay Company, the writer covered
most of this terrain by dog-team and
was personally acquainted with “Spike”

Millen and most of those who -helped
hunt down the mysterious “Albert
Johnson.” Mr. Godsell’s latest book,
THE YUKON, is now on the book-
stands.

TWENTY-SEVENTH EDITION

mighty Mackenzie River and the
rugged, box-like canyons of the Yukon
were softened into delicate shades of
mauve and purple by the crinkly
heat-haze. é

His stiff-brimmed Stetson pushed
back on his curly head, Constable E.
“Spike” Millen of the Royal Canadian
Mounted Police leaned on the un-
painted counter and bemoaned the
luck that had transferred him from
Cambridge Bay, in the land of the
“Blond’” Eskimos, to the monotonous,
uneventful routine of the Indian
country. ‘To him it was like being
buried alive.

But today there was a little action.
An Eskimo schooner from the tide-
water post of Aklavik, chugged into
the landing. A grinning Nunatogmiut
handed Millen a note from Inspector
A. N. Eames, officer commanding the
Western Arctic sub-district. Dated
July 12th, it read as follows: |

“A strange man, going by the name
of Johnson, reportedly landed near
Fort McPherson on July 9th. Ap-
parently he came down-river on a
raft, tying up below the settlement.
He had no outfit, rifle or dogs, but
appeared to be amply supplied with
money. Please make inquiries and
submit a report.”

*

Modern Sex Edu-
cation was the title
of a pamphlet sold
by a tramp in the
streets of Vancou-
ver. Inside there
was only one hand-
written sentence:
“Don’t do it.”

*

LOYAL ORDER
OE-MOOSE

PRINCE RUPERT LODGE Neo. 1051

Visiting Members and Friends

H. T. MUNCEY, Secretary

Box 344 — 111-/7th St.

Albert Johnson—“The Mad Trapper”

Spike slipped the note into his tunic
pocket and strode back towards the
barracks. Who hadn’t heard of this
Johnson, he thought with a frown.
Already reports of his strange actions
had swept from one Louchoux en-
campment to another. White trappers,
too, were saying plenty about him.
On two occasions men paddling their
canoes along the Peel had been con-
fronted by the stranger. Brandishing
a wicket-looking revolver in their faces
he had venomously ordered them to
“Hit the trail an’ keep a-goin’!”

“He’s bushed,” was the widespread

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