Although Johnson’s cabin was virtually demolished by the dynamite blast, he was uninjured.
RCMP
The first news of the drama in the Northwest Territories reached the public on January 6, 1932, when Canadian Press news service carried a dispatch giving scanty details of the near fatal wounding of Constable King. Somewhere along the line, an enthusiastic reporter or editor decided that the episode smacked of “cabin-fever” and wrote of Johnson as a “crazed” and “demented man.”
When a week later word reached the outside world via radio that Johnson had withstood the siege of the posse under Inspector Eames, the public’s interest was immediately riveted on the north. As often happens when authority is pitted against an individual, however, the public had a great deal of sympathy for Johnson and secretly admired his stand against the police. Many doubted that he was crazed or demented.
Sensing the story of the decade, newspaper reporters began to search. Who was Albert Johnson? Where did he come from? What took him north and what brought on the duel with the police? Despite later evidence to the contrary, popular writers would christen Johnson, “The Mad Trapper of Rat River.”
Although Johnson’s cabin was virtually demolished by the dynamite blast, he was uninjured.
RCMP
But while newsmen were trying to learn Johnson’s identity, at Aklavik priority preparations were underway for a second, larger posse. After only two days of rest, Constable Millen left Aklavik and followed the now familiar trail to Rat River. With him went Carl Gardlund. His orders were to camp some distance from the cabin and determine if Johnson was still there.
Their second day out of Aklavik, Millen and Gardlund ran into an Arctic blizzard that lasted three days. Under its cover they approached close to the cabin and in daylight were able to assess the damage.
The front wall had been blown in and the roof with its heavy overlay of sod had almost collapsed. They found it difficult to believe that Johnson had survived. Nevertheless, Johnson had not only survived, he had left — probably under cover of the blizzard.
Close examination of the cabin revealed nothing. There were no letters, papers or documents that gave any indication of Johnson’s past, or his plans. Further searching revealed his canoe and cache of supplies. Again, there was nothing in the cache to give them a clue to his identity and the blizzard had obliterated all signs of any trail Johnson left in his flight.
After finding the shack of a Loucheux Indian family in the vicinity, Constable Millen despatched the man with a note to Inspector Eames informing him of Johnson’s departure. Then, with the experienced Carl Gardlund he began a series of forays during calm spells in the fitful blizzard to try to determine which direction the fugitive had taken.
While Millen and Gardlund scoured the inhospitable region, Aklavik was a bustle of activity. Alerted by radio, most of the men and women of the district fled their isolated cabins to seek the safety of police headquarters. Many trappers volunteered their services in tracking down the outlaw of Rat River. From them Inspector Eames chose John Parsons, an ex-member of the force, Frank Carmichael, and Noel Verville, a rough, tough trapper whose love of barroom brawls was a community by-word. Others in the party included Ernest Sutherland and the always-smiling Special Constable Sittichiulis — already veterans of the Rat River battle — and two members of the Royal Canadian Signals stationed at Aklavik. They were Quartermaster Sergeant R.F. Riddell and Staff Sergeant Earl Hersey, who brought with them a two-way radio to improve communications between the posse and headquarters. It was the first time a radio had been used for police communications, although for Hersey the historic event would have nearly tragic consequences when he was felled by Johnson’s deadly shooting.
The group left Aklavik on January 16 but soon encountered the blizzard that was hampering Millen and Gardlund. Despite the storm they fought their way through the wind-whipped snow to the mouth of the Rat River in two days. There they were met by Millen’s messenger and learned for the first time that Johnson had left his cabin and was somewhere in the swirling whiteness.
A base camp was established 15 km (9 miles) east of Johnson’s cabin and for the next four days the party scoured the defiles of Rat River Canyon hoping to pick up some trace of the fugitive’s trail. Deserted cabins and clumps of trees had to be approached with extreme caution, slowing the search.
Constable Millen and Gardlund joined the party the next day, reporting that they had found no sign of Johnson’s trail. Millen had located Johnson’s trap lines, but evidently the trapper had not visited them for some time. A small band of Loucheux Indians was recruited to speed up the search but even the addition of eleven of their number failed to turn up any definite clue to the fugitive’s passage. The blizzard, while a hardship to the outlaw, was also an advantage since it obliterated all tracks.
By January 21, with supplies for men and dogs again running low, Eames dismissed the Indians and reconsidered his position. There were supplies for about four more days of search with the large party. But by with-drawing most of the men and allocating greater supplies to an advance party, the search could continue for another ten days.
Eames decided upon the latter course and detailed the experienced Constable Millen to continue the search. His choice was probably influenced by the fact that the young constable was the only one who could accurately identify Johnson if he were encountered. Millen was joined by Gardlund, trapper Noel Verville and Staff Sergeant Riddell in charge of the radio.
Plagued by the problem of logistics, Inspector Eames decided to establish a base camp on the Rat River and left Hersey there while he returned to Aklavik to regroup and freight in supplies for a prolonged search.
Constable Millen and his men made their way to Johnson’s shattered cabin and finally found faint traces of a trail at a portage near where the Bear River joins the Rat. Like most men in the north, Johnson had fashioned his own snowshoes which left tracks as individual and distinctive as fingerprints. With extreme difficulty because of the rugged terrain and numbing sub-zero temperatures, the four men managed to follow the trail westward into the foothills of the Richardson Mountains that separated the Northwest Territories from the Yukon. Their radio equipment proved useless because the intense cold froze the batteries and they were seldom in camp long enough to thaw them out.
Then in the higher country towards which Johnson appeared to be heading they lost the trail completely. They were still searching for it when an Indian runner arrived with the message that two shots had been heard the day before in the vicinity of Bear River. Suspecting that it might have been Johnson replenishing his food supply, the four-man posse retraced its steps to the river country. There a fresh fall of snow enabled them to pick up the trail made by Johnson’s distinctive snowshoes. Obviously the fugitive had doubled back from the open, rocky terrain of the foothills and regained the trees fringing the river banks.
Staff Sergeant H.F. “Earl” Hersey. He was fortunate to live after being wounded by Johnson during the confrontation on the Eagle River.
RCMP
Shortly after daybreak on January 30, the four men followed the tracks up a small creek (now called Millen Creek) which empties into the Rat River about one mile north of the confluence of the Rat and Barrier Rivers. They followed the trail up the creek for 8 km (5 miles) to where it led into a triangular clump of trees. Closer examination revealed that there were no tracks leading out of the tangle of trees and large boulders.
The posse split up. Riddell and Gardlund crossed the creek bed below Johnson’s hiding spot and circled to a point on the river bank above the cluster of trees. From this vantage they could look down into a ravine. Though they could not see Johnson, they could hear someone coughing occasionally. If it were the fugitive, he had chosen his camp well for the fallen tree trunks and large smooth boulders provided a natural fortification.
Once Gardlund and Riddell were in position, Constable Millen and Verville descended the slope and cautiously approached the camp.
Without warning, Johnson reacted to their stealthy approach. As Millen passed an opening in the trees, Johnson fired at him with his .30-30 rifle. In that fleeting instance, Carl Gardlund caught a glimpse of Johnson and snapped a shot at him. When Johnson dropped out of sight, Gardlund thought that he might have been hit.
Quarter Master Sergeant R.F. Riddell of the Royal Canadian Corps of Signals.
RCMP
Uninjured, Constable Millen joined his companions in pouring a rapid, if blind, fire into the concealed position. When there was no reply from Johnson, the conviction grew that Gardlund’s first shot had found its mark, but still they made no move against the shelter. Verville and Riddell were new to this deadly game, but Millen and Gardlund were veterans of the cabin siege and knew first-hand the cunning tactics of their man. Despite the fact that outside news reports were referring to Johnson as a demented man, they knew that he was desperate, dangerous and in full possession of his mental faculties.
As a precaution the men waited for over two hours, during which time there was no sign of movement from Johnson’s improvised shelter. Believing Johnson to be dead or too seriously injured to resist, Constable Millen led his men closer.
“When we were within about 25 yards,” Sergeant Riddell recalled, “Johnson suddenly sprang up and fired on us.”
While his companions scrambled for cover, Edgar Millen stood his ground. It seemed inevitable that Millen and Johnson should meet face to face again. One a desperate man who appeared to cherish an ancient grudge against the police, the other a dedicated man of the north, a law officer doing his duty to protect the public.
For a moment they faced each other. Millen coolly and deliberately fired two shots. Johnson replied with three from his rifle. Constable Millen fell.
When Sergeant Riddell regained the lip of the ravine a short distance away, he saw Millen lying inert in the snow. There was no sign of the trapper.
Riddell and Verville, protecting themselves against further outburst from Johnson’s deadly rifle which had again fallen silent, kept up a steady sniper fire on the thicket. Gardlund, bravely slithering forward on his stomach, managed to reach the fallen Millen. He tied the Constable’s boot laces together and used them as a handle to pull the Mountie back over the bank. A quick examination showed that Constable Millen was dead.
With daylight already fading, the three remaining members of the party took turns firing into the thicket, hoping to get Johnson to show himself again, or to disable him with a ricochet. Again, however, the wily fugitive resorted to his stratagem of silence.
As Riddell had the fastest dog team, they decided he should return to Aklavik with news of Millen’s death. He set off into the gathering Arctic darkness, while Gardlund and Verville started work on a pole platform to protect Millen’s body from prowling animals. That completed, they settled down to keep watch on Johnson’s silent camp.
A short distance from Johnson’s cabin, Riddell met Staff Sergeant Hersey and Special Constable Sittichiulis who were on their way to relieve the Millen party. On hearing of Millen’s death, Hersey decided to continue on to join Verville and Gardlund, while Sittichiulis accompanied Riddell to Aklavik.