Canadian Transport Sourcebook

Chapter XX

Royal Canadian Mounted Police

The format of this magnificent force, modelled somewhat upon the lines of the Royal Irish Constabulary, was due to Sir John A. Macdonald's Government. For many years it has protected the Western country, patrolling the vast plains and even penetrating the sombre solitudes of the Arctic Circle. A small force originally carefully recruited from a high class of men, now largely increased, it has never been allowed to deteriorate, either in physique or efficiency. There are many gentlemen, particularly Englishmen, in the ranks the wild Western life, in the early days, no doubt inducing them to join in search of adventure. Splendidly uniformed in scarlet, well horsed and equipped, fearless and resourceful, this grand Police force has ever been the terror to evil doers and bad Indians. It has been truly said that they always "get their man."

For a good many years now this remarkable force has been the only protection for the squatter, farmer, ranchman, miner, sportsman, trader and everybody else in the West. The enormous area of territory over which the Mounted Policemen preside and administer law and justice is almost incalculable. Long before these vast Western plains were divided into Provinces, the Mounted Police controlled this wonderful country, destined to be the home of millions of settlers and the greatest granary in the world. He was there when the Buffalo in countless thousands roamed at will and is there now when the busy hum of the steam thresher is heard in the land, and there is nought but the bleaching bones of the lordly buffalo to remind him of the past.

Whenever a new mining territory was discovered, who followed upon the footsteps of the prospecting pioneer? The Mounted Police. Did the noble red man become troublesome to the settler, who was it that went after the savage, recaptured the stolen horses and restored them to the owner? The ubiquitous Mounted Police.

Many a good story is told of the intrepid policeman taking his prisoners single-handed out of a bunch of hostile Indians. They were often called upon to do detective work and there have been many cases when through individual shrewdness, combined with good judgment and much common horse sense, mysterious crimes have been unearthed and the criminals brought to the gallows.

I cannot do better than relate a case which happened at Dawson, in the early days of the well known Klondyke boom. It was a cold night at Dawson City. the bulbs in the mercurial thermometers were down and out, and the spirit thermometers were working overtime. The dreary military routine of barrack life, with the briefest of days and longest of nights, seemed interminable.

The Commandment sat in his office after dinner smoking a cigar, reading the latest papers, some six weeks old, when the visitor was announced by the Sergeant on duty, who said the man wanted particularly to see the Colonel on business of great importance. This was at least a welcome break in the dull monotony, and the stranger was ushered into the office at once. A long, lean, lantern-jawed specimen of humanity, with an air of mystery, appeared; he seemed to be overburdened with the weight of a secret, and proceeded to unbosom himself at once. "Colonel, I have something to tell you which I believe will be of great interest to you. The other night I attended one of them Methodist revival meetings and I got converted. I listened to them praying and singing and I sure got religion."

"Well, get along with your story," said the Colonel.

"Well, Sir, not many days ago, I happened to fall in with two men down to the Red Dog Saloon and they made a proposition to me—you know the stopping place kept by Slim Pete at the Forks? Well, he's got a store too and a safe in it, and most of the miners up the creeks has been depositing their dust with Pete, him being considered quite honest, and at times there is as much as two hundred thousand dollars or more in the safe. Well, Sir, these 'ere two men proposed to me that we three should go into partnership, and some night take a dog-train, go up to the Forks and get the dust out of that safe. We talked it over, and it seemed quite a likely proposition, and profitable at that, but after a discussing of it near all night they concluded it was too much of a trick to try and get that much weight out of the country, and a better plan would be for us to go up the river on the ice, cache ourselves in the bush somewheres this side of the summit and wait for the miners to come out, which they generally does in twos and threes, a-packing of their dust, all the way from two to ten thousand dollars, when we could kill them first and rob them afterwards, cut a hole in the ice, shove their bodies in and wait for some more."

"The first man argued that they never would be missed till after the ice went out in May or June, and long before that time we would be out and down to 'Frisco enjoying ourselves with the boodle. Being out of a job and dead broke, I agreed to the scheme, but before we was ready to start I happened into this here Church meeting and as I say got religion, and Colonel, I tell you straight I've got it bad and it's come to stay. Therefore, I takes the first opportunity to come right here and after it gets plumb dark to tell you the whole thing. The head man is real desperate, he is an ugly customer, strong, and determined, a middle-sized, thick-set gent with a short black beard. His partner is much younger and seems more innocent like, but is controlled by the other man and will do what he's told. They's got one black dog with them."

The Commandant scratched his chin thoughtfully and told the informer to go away just then, but to return the following night; meanwhile the town should be searched for these would-be murderers. Next day all the well-known haunts of crooks and toughs were searched but no one answering the description could be found. However, it was ascertained by the Police that two men, accompanied by a solitary black dog, were known to have left town that morning going up the river on the ice. The Police were communicated with by wire at the different points as far as the summit, but no suspicious characters had passed that way.

Towards Spring a man who answered to the description given by the "convert" was arrested by the indefatigable Police. He had in his possession a black dog and a large amount of money, amongst which was a rather uncommon ten dollar bill on a bank in Texas. This bill was submitted to the Trading Company at Dawson and as luck would have it, recognized as having been paid to a certain miner who was missing, having gone out that winter and never been seen afterwards. The organizer of the murderous expedition was held at Fort Selkirk Barracks till Spring, when, as the Police officer grimly observed, the Yukon invariably gave up its dead.

At last the enormous field of ice began to move out slowly and the bodies of three men came to the surface. One was identified as the bad man's pardner, and the other two as miners who had gone out during the Winter, one being recognized as the owner of the ten dollar bill.

Upon this circumstantial evidence, although always strongly protesting his innocence, the bad man was convicted and eventually hanged at Dawson City. It was a terrible execution. The wretched prisoner acted like a raving maniac as he approached the scaffold and died with curses on his lips for the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

There have not been many Commanding Officers of this most remarkable Force since its format and I have had the honour of knowing them all—French (who organized it), McLeod, Irvine, Herchmer, Perry, and at present, Starnes, all fine, staunch, loyal officers, who have served this country truly and well often under very trying and hazardous circumstances in the vast lone land.

Far removed from every comfort of civilization, they never faltered, ever faithful to their duty, to the British Flag and the gallant Force they so ably commanded. Canada may indeed be proud of such officers and men who compose this unique Force known as: