The Mad Trapper: Unearthing a Mystery

By Barbara Smith

When Albert Johnson, the Mad Trapper of Rat River, was gunned down in February 1932, he went to his death without anyone knowing who he really was—most people believed the name "Albert Johnson" was an alias. He'd eluded a well-organized, well-equipped posse for seven weeks, surviving solely on wits and determination in the bitter cold of a Canadian Arctic winter. Some 75 years later, he was being pursued again, this time by a team of filmmakers and forensic scientists bent on determining his identity once and for all. In this age of DNA testing and leading-edge forensic techniques, would the decades-old mystery finally be solved?

Myth Merchant Films' Michael Jorgensen and Carrie Gour hoped so. Armed with a television production crew and a group of top forensic scientists, they headed to Aklavik, Northwest Territories. The team exhumed Johnson's body, examined the remains and harvested samples for further testing and DNA comparison with potential kin. The results were broadcast in a Discovery Channel documentary, Hunt for the Mad Trapper.

Author Barbara Smith was on hand to witness it all. In this book she takes readers to the isolated northern community of Aklavik, where the legend began, recounts the tale of the manhunt that mesmerized the world, describes the exhumation and subsequent scientific analyses and shares the astonishing information unearthed in Myth Merchant's investigation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heritage House
• Release date: Aug 24, 2011
• ISBN: 9781927051085

Barbara Smith

B. Smith is a former fashion model turned restaurateur, television host, author, entrepreneur and entertainer extraordinaire renowned for her casual yet elegant approach to living. In 1999, she hosted B Smith with Style which aired nationwide and in 40 countries.  A native of western Pennsylvania (where she was raised by a bunch of Southerners who went north), B started her career as a fashion model, gracing the covers of 15 magazines, before moving on to restaurants and televison. She lives in New York City and Sag Harbor, New York with her husband and partner, Dan Gasby, and their daughter.

Book preview

Introduction

Decades ago, when I first heard the tale of how the Mad Trapper of Rat River had led Northwest Territories RCMP officers on a seven-week midwinter manhunt in the early 1930s, I was fascinated, but I presumed that the saga of the man calling himself Albert Johnson was a piece of fiction. No one could deny it was a great story, but I did not believe it was factual: the entire premise was too outlandish to be believed. A man could not survive outdoors during an Arctic winter for as long as Johnson had on wits and determination alone—and certainly not while evading a well-organized, well-equipped posse of pursuers. More outlandish still was the proposition that this pursuit had gone on for almost two months and that in the end, the RCMP had caught a mystery man. The concept was preposterous and seemed more like the plot of a 1950s comic book than an actual historical event. It had to be a legend, a piece of fiction that perhaps, at best, was based on actual events.

Still, as an author of books about local folklore and social history, I could not resist looking into the matter as thoroughly as I could. What I found was that not only was the story fascinating, it was also most assuredly factual. For the next 20 or more years, whenever another book about the Mad Trapper came out, or another article ran in a magazine or newspaper, I made sure to read it to see what was being offered as new information.

However, as intriguing as the topic of the Mad Trapper was, pursuing it for a book of my own seemed pointless, because I felt his amazing feats and the enticing mystery of his unknown identity had already been amply covered. And so I set aside the idea and went about finding other interesting subjects to write about.

Although writing is a solitary occupation, generating topics for writing projects can be a very social undertaking. For this reason, I consider myself tremendously fortunate to have scriptwriters, filmmakers and other authors as friends. An hour’s conversation at a café with any one of these people can generate concepts that lead to workable enterprises. Toward that end, my long-time friend and Emmy Award-winning producer Michael Jorgensen and I make a point of getting together whenever our schedules allow it.

One such informal meeting took place in 2003. Michael’s production company, Myth Merchant Films, had been developing a television documentary about the Mad Trapper based on discussions with someone who had anecdotal evidence suggesting that he shared a genetic link with the legendary fugitive. This man’s story was intriguing, and interested Michael and his business partner, Carrie Gour. Although their initial approach to the project fell through completely, the filmmakers’ interest in the Mad Trapper endured. Consequently, Carrie and Michael formed plans for a considerably more ambitious project, committing themselves to doing everything within their power to obtain permission to exhume Albert Johnson’s body in the hamlet of Aklavik, in Canada’s Northwest Territories. The idea was to have forensic scientists thoroughly investigate his remains, harvest samples for DNA comparison with potential kin and make a documentary about their findings. They presumed—correctly, as it turned out—that media coverage of the exhumation would draw candidates to Myth Merchant’s website.

What an honour it was to be asked by Michael to join the Myth Merchant team for this history-making project. My role, he explained, in addition to some administrative duties, would be to follow the filmmakers through their ambitious and complex undertaking, recording information as it was uncovered and producing a companion book to their television documentary. My long fascination with the mysterious Albert Johnson quickly became a near-obsession because Myth Merchant’s project could have a most rewarding conclusion: finding out exactly, once and for all, who the man known as the Mad Trapper of Rat River really was.

When he first appeared in Fort McPherson, Northwest Territories, and gave his name as Albert Johnson, no one had any reason to wonder whether that was his real name or an alias. It was his behaviour, his apparent strong desire not to socialize or share any information about himself, that made people wonder about him. Who was he really? Why was he in the Arctic? Where had he come from?

Our journey of discovery was about to begin.

Inspecting skull

John Evans of the Canadian Police Research Centre (bottom left), forensic anthropologist Owen Beattie and odontologist David Sweet pore over the skull of the Mad Trapper.

Photo by Matthew Spidell

PART ONE

Post Mortem Photos

Viewing these grisly post-mortem photographs makes it easy to understand why members of the posse who finally brought down the fugitive were later haunted by his striking image. His face forever frozen into a malevolent grin, even in death Johnson appears to be defiant.

RCMP Museum, Glenbow Archives NA-1258-119 and Glenbow Archives 1258-120

The Legendary Chase

Saturday, December 26, 1931

A few hours before daybreak on Boxing Day, 1931, Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) Constable Alfred King and Special Constable Joe Bernard harnessed a team of sled dogs and mushed west from their Arctic Red River detachment in the Northwest Territories, at the confluence of the Mackenzie and Arctic Red rivers. They were heading out to investigate an accusation made by Aboriginal trappers who lived and worked along the Rat River that someone had been interfering with their traplines.

The man in charge of the Arctic Red River detachment, Constable Edgar Millen, knew that the only newcomer to the area of late was a taciturn trapper known as Albert Johnson, who had arrived the previous summer. In July 1931, Millen had spoken to this man in a store at Fort McPherson. He had noticed that the newcomer seemed to be carrying a large amount of money and also that he seemed very quiet—but not so much as to cause concern, especially in a time and place where eccentricities were common. He also noticed that the stranger spoke with a trace of a Scandinavian accent.

Constable Millen introduced himself to Johnson. Police protocol in this remote area was to make sure everyone within the jurisdiction was mentally and physically prepared for the arduous conditions of the extreme north. The constable’s exchange with the stranger was cursory, and had it been his only interaction with Johnson, the young officer might never have given the man’s existence another thought. About a month later, however, Millen’s commanding officer, Inspector Alexander Eames, sent him a stern written rebuke, taking him to task for not having questioned the man calling himself Albert Johnson as thoroughly as he should have.

Furthermore, since the initial encounter in July, the newcomer had shown himself to be not just an uncommunicative and unfriendly person, but also an uncooperative one who had not purchased a trapping licence. This factor further fuelled suspicions that he might be the one guilty of interfering with his Aboriginal neighbours’ traplines—a serious accusation, as families’ livelihoods depended almost exclusively on the sale of pelts.

However, one officer’s later research revealed that the Aboriginal trappers’ accusations might not have been truthful. RCMP Constable William Carter investigated the original complaint in the spring of 1932 and found an entirely different story. Evidently, Johnson had roughly told them to take off and had even pointed a gun at them, when they came a-visiting at Johnson’s cabin.

Carter’s report goes on to say:

Knowing Indians very well, I can imagine they were curious about Johnson and wanted to know what he was doing in their trap area. Also, it is customary to give an Indian a drink of tea and something to eat. With repeated visits, Johnson’s food supply would soon be depleted, so he was stopping the visits in the bud.

Retaliating, the Indians had decided to complain about Johnson to drive him out of the country, and this was what started the long series of hunts which terminated in his death.(1)

In any case, it appeared that the Aboriginal neighbours in question had reason to lodge a complaint with the RCMP about Albert Johnson. Even though they did not know the name of the man who had pointed the gun at them, Constable Millen strongly suspected from their description that it was the same person he had interviewed the previous summer: the man who had given his name as Albert Johnson.

Despite the severe winter travelling conditions and knowing little about the offender, Constable King and Special Constable Bernard did not anticipate that the assignment would be extraordinary in any way. They would simply make their way by dog team to Johnson’s cabin, order him to leave other people’s lines alone and remind him to apply for his own trapping licence. Both constables were experienced with travel during the Arctic winter, and were confident that they could complete the 220-kilometre round trip in time to join their friends and colleagues at a New Year’s Eve party.

At that latitude (68 degrees north), only a few days after the longest night of the year, twilight lingers for a few hours around noon before giving way again to the dark of night. With temperatures hovering between -30ºC and -50ºC, the two police officers were grateful to spend their first night in the small community of Fort McPherson, approximately 70 kilometres west of their detachment. The next night, December 27, they were not so fortunate; they had to camp out in the snow and frigid cold near the mouth of the Rat River, their only consolation being that they did not have much farther left to travel.

Monday, December 28, 1931

King and Bernard

Reviews for The Mad Trapper

[irvingwood · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Well-written and clearly-expressed narrative Excellent read. Interesting.Enjoyable.Satisfying. Unpretentious.