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When a man joins the B.C. Provincial

Police Force he expects a lot of new ex-

pertences and usually gets them. But the

experience he likes most to tell about is

Ats first northern patrol.

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DURING THE years that I was
stationed in Northern B.C., I made
numerous patrols into the bush.
Some patrols were arduous, and some
were easy; but on every patrol I had
experiences that I will always re-
member.

I think that one of the most mem-
orable patrols that I made was my
first bush patrol alone. It probably
is memorable to me because it was
my first patrol into the bush alone.

It was while I was stationed at
Terrace, a village situated on the
banks of the Skeena River approxi-
mately ninety miles east of Prince
Rupert, on the Canadian National
Railway, that I received instructions
to proceed into the Naas Valley,
about 75 miles north of Terrace, and
investigate a complaint that had
drifted out, to the effect that a settler
had gone insane and had taken sev-
eral shots at another settler. I re-
ceived the instructions with mixed
feelings. I was anxious to make the
trip, but had never been on such a
trip before, and certainly not alone.
I spent a very busy day gathering
what I considered essential for the
patrol. Not being accustomed to
outfitting, I bought a large assort-
ment of food, a good seventy-five
percent of which was unnecessary
and built my pack on to a ‘Trapper
Nelson’ packboard. When my pack
was completed, I found that I had
eighty-five pounds. After discarding
everything that I considered non-
essential, I still had eighty pounds;
and on top of that an eleven pound
rifle and a small axe.

TWENTIETH EDITION

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On the fourteenth of September,
1940, I left Terrace and had a car
transport me, and my pack, to the
end of the road which was Kitsum-
gallum Lake. Bidding farewell to the
other Constable who was to take my

Constable B. E. Munkley

place while I was away, I proceeded
up the lake to a cabin occupied by
one Walter Warner and his wife.
Warner was a telegraph lineman.
The couple made me welcome and
insisted that I spend the night with
them. (I saw Warner eyeing my
pack, but at the time, I thought
nothing of it. Since that time, I
realize that he must have thought

ee

x
By

Const. B. E. Munkley

*

that I would learn a lot better by
experience. )

I spent a very interesting evening
with the Warners and received defin-
ite directions from him as to the
trail, and was also warned to be
careful while crossing a large field
of lava rock where the trail was not
discernible.

I got an early start in the morning
and headed up the trail at a brisk
walk intending to reach a deserted
telegraph cabin fifteen miles north
before making camp for the night;
estimating that I should arrive there
at approximately 2 p.m. However,
I had underestimated the length of
the miles and the weight of the pack,
to say nothing of my physical con-
dition. The trail was quite rocky,
and to make matters worse my boots
were two short for my feet, and as
the country was rolling, I had to do
considerable climbing. This was bad
enough, but going down steep hills,
burdened as I was, was beginning to
cause my feet to give me trouble.
After many rests, I reached the 15-
mile cabin at about 4 p.m.

J LEARN OF BUSH RATS ~

The cabins on this telegraph line
were very old and quite small, as
they were used only on rare occa-
sions by linemen. On opening the
door of the cabin, I observed a large
heap of dried green leaves piled al-
most roof high on the bunk, and
that the cabin had a very objection-
able odor. I later found that the
smell and leaves were attributable to
bush rats, the curse of the trapper

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