Northland

ad Giant of the

*

By Ex-Const.
F. F. O'HALLORAN

ov

An Armed Maniac, a Hairy Giant of a Man, Challenged the Provincial Police
at Fort George Back in 1917—And Here’s the Tense and Exciting Story of How
Young Constable Fred O’Halloran Handled the Difficult Assignment.

WAS A young constable working under
rief Constable A. C. Minty at Fort George
ven the mad giant started striking terror
o the hearts of the trappers in the district
st of what is now Prince George.
That was back in 1917. The country was
ld then, much more desolate than it is at
esent, and because we were then, as now,
the midst of a World War, many of the
ners, trappers and prospectors had left
eir cabins and sailed out under the flag
their Empire.
Tt was early in April, a dismal snowy
1son of the year, when first word was
ought to us that the wild giant was hid-
n in the woods.
Bill Harper, a trapper, came in one day
d reported being threatened by this un-
mpt figure. Bill said he met the giant
he was going along the trail one day.
The man,” he said, “was well over six
et, bearded, and savage in appearance.”
“He looked like a madman,” Bill told us.
“He is dressed in rags and carries a big
Tinchester rifle of 45/90 calibre.”
“T ran into him just by accident and he
ld me to turn around and go back the
ay I came. I didn’t argue with him be-
use I could see he had a bad look in his
e.
Chief Minty asked Bill if he could locate
e spot where he had met the man. Bill
vuld.
“Very well,” said Minty, “will you go
ith O’Halloran and see if you can bring
im in?”
We packed a lot of grub, took our rifles
1d revolvers and caught a freight going
rough. After we got off the train we
id to hike about thirty-five miles through
.e bush to find the spot where Bill had
sen intercepted.

WELL BARRICADED

It was tough going all the way. The bush
as dense and the snow was deep and soft.
Ve finally arrived at the tent where the
iant lived and he had that place barricaded
» that he could hold off an army if he
rere attacked.

You could not creep up on him from
ehind. From the rear and from the sides
e was protected and the only entrance
vas down a narrow cut toward the front
£ the tent. In addition, he had cut a hole

'HIRTEENTH EDITION

in the canvas through which he could see
everything approaching just as soon as there
was any stir in the vicinity.

We edged in cautiously, for from Bill's

description of the rufhan we knew we had

to be mighty discreet. But when we ar-
rived there the man was away.

We went into the tent. We had brought
along another man with us, Constable
Charlie Evans. We entered the tent and

Const. F. F. O'Halloran

FRED F. O'HALLORAN was born in Kin-
sale, Cork County, Ireland. In 1906 he
kissed the shamrocks good-bye and headed
for Canada. In January, 1914, he joined
the British Columbia Police, saw lots of
action during those turbulent frontier years

when this was a young and raw province.

He turned in his uniform in 1926—just
one year after members of the police force
were provided with regular uniforms.

He is now living quietly in Vancouver.
He still has a trace of that soft brogue
which the Irish seem to retain no matter
how far they get from the Emerald Isle.

This story is but one of the many ad-
ventures he experienced while patrolling
the vast Northland of British Columbia.

_————___—_—_—_—_—___ EE

it was the messiest place I have ever seen.
There was a small stove, a couple of dirty
blankets, a half-sack of horse oats and a

_frying pan.

I couldn’t figure out how any man could
have lived in such a hole and with no food
except the oats in sight. While we were
investigating, Bill and Charlie decided that
they would take a walk through the bush
and see what they could see.

I stayed in the tent and started a fire.
After a while I began to feel uneasy. I
didn’t like it one little bit. “Here you are,”
I said to myself, “all alone in a madman’s
tent. Your comrades are wandering in the
bush and no doubt the madman is lurking
around somewhere.”

In all honesty I must admit I was slightly
frightened. I got the fire going and then I
picked up my rifle and started out in search
of Bill and Charlie. I found them a little
distance away and we compared notes.
None of us had heard a thing, so we de-
cided to return to the tent and spend the
night.

By this time it was snowing quite heav-
ily. A soft wet snow that made the bush
even more dreary than usual. The trail
was bad and none of us felt any too cheer-
ful about this assignment.

But back in the tent we had a little food
and made up our minds to stay for the
night. I slumbered off. Bill slept, and
Charlie dropped into dreamland.

FALsE ALARM

Suddenly, out of the quiet of the night,
came a tremendous racket, and the next
thing we, knew the tent was smothering us
and we were fighting madly to get free.

The madman is back, I thought, as I
struggled to get out from the folds of the
tent. In a few moments we extricated our-
selves and stood up in the darkness.

There was no madman. The heavy snow
had been too much for the tent and the
whole structure had collapsed. By now we
were thoroughly disgusted, disheartened and
discouraged.

We held a council of war and arrived at
the conclusion that our man had left the
country and that the wise move for us
would be to go back and report to Chief
Minty that the bird had flown.

So, at about four o’clock in the dark,

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