Canada. The great white north. While this vast country has several major
population centers and thriving cities, its northern territories are among the most sparsely
populated areas in North America. But the massive northern regions of the Yukon
and the Northwest Territories were once anything but quiet. In 1931, a chain of events began that led
to the largest manhunt in Canadian history. And it all started over furs. This is the story of the Mad Trapper of Rat
River. Fort McPherson wasn’t a hotbed of activity,
a Northwest Territories hamlet in between the larger towns of Inuvik and Whitehorse
in the Yukon. Primarily populated by First Nations Canadians,
it was heavily involved in the fur trapping and trading business in the 1930s and was
a common stopping point for traveling trappers. So it was no surprise when a raft carrying
a newcomer came down the Peel River in July 1931. A quiet, clean-shaven man with a vague Scandinavian
accent, he called himself Albert Johnson and seemed well-supplied with money. He built himself a cabin along the Rat River
and set out to work in the trapping trade. There was only one problem. Albert Johnson didn’t have a trapping license. There was a growing tension in the north,
as the Great Depression in America and more urban areas had led many people to head up
north for a more reliable income. That meant that traditional Native trappers
were seeing more and more competition in their hunting grounds, and some local trappers weren’t
happy to see another outsider coming in to set up shop. Still, at first Johnson seemed happy to keep
to himself, and he became just another face in the Canadian north, using the land to survive. That is, until the sabotages began. Native trappers started noticing that their
traps weren’t set up the way they left them. The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, the primary
law enforcement agency in the area, started receiving complaints that someone was deliberately
triggering traps and damaging them - likely to eliminate the competition for the animals
in the area. When the local department received a complaint
that identified Johnson as a possible suspect, they decided to investigate the new arrival
and headed to the cabin on Rat River. But none of the officers were prepared for
what awaited them. Constable Alfred King and Special Constable
Joe Bernard were detailed to make the trip to Johnson’s cabin on December 26th, 1931. This was the dead of winter in the Canadian
north, which meant a sixty-mile journey in freezing cold to the north. They intended to question Johnson, but didn’t
view the case as a serious threat yet - only a minor trapping dispute. When they finally made their way to the cabin,
they saw smoke confirming Johnson was home. However, as soon as they made contact with
Johnson, he became belligerent. He pretended not to see them, and covered
up his windows when they looked inside. The two officers decided to head to the local
Aklavik station for a search warrant. When they returned, things would massively
escalate. This time, King and Bernard didn’t come
alone. They brought two other officers with them,
and were prepared to force the door open when Johnson refused to open it. They gave a warning, and King stepped up to
enter - just as a shot rang out. Johnson had shot the officer through the door,
and King collapsed. The officers returned fire, but they didn’t
manage to kill Johnson. The officers were forced to retreat to get
King back to the base, where they were able to save his life. But the manhunt for the man who would be known
as the Mad Trapper was just beginning. This time, the officers would come prepared
for war. They gathered nine men, forty-two tracking
dogs, and a pack of dynamite in case they needed to blow the cabin up to force Johnson
out. But Johnson was prepared too. When the officers arrived, there was no sign
of Johnson. They threw a single lit charge inside the
cabin, which seemed to destroy the building, and they moved to enter the rubble to find
Johnson - or his body. And that’s when the shooting began. Johnson had been hiding in a dugout under
the house, lying in wait for the attack, and an extended shootout began. The officers held out for fifteen hours, avoiding
being shot but never managing to shoot Johnson. They eventually retreated back to Aklavik,
hoping to get more manpower. But by the time they were able to return with
reinforcements - after waiting out a blizzard - they discovered that the cabin had been
abandoned. Albert Johnson was in the wild, and the manhunt
was about to escalate. The hunt for the Mad Trapper had now been
broadcast across Canada and beyond by radio, and the mounted police were seeking tips. It would be several weeks before they would
catch up with Johnson again, finding him in a thicket of trees. They cornered him, but Johnson returned fire
- and this time, the officers would not be as lucky as last time. Constable Edward Millen was hit in the heart
and died instantly. The officers were forced to retreat, and Johnson
disappeared into the wild again. The hunt was no longer for a trapping fugitive. The officers were now seeking a murderer. It became clear that the Mounted Police would
need an edge if they wanted to track the experienced outdoorsman. That edge came in the form of local Inuvialuit
and Gwich’in natives who knew the region inside and out. Based on the direction Johnson was traveling,
it seemed likely he was trying to escape the Northwest Territories for the Yukon, and the
police quickly ordered the two main passes blocked, hoping to intercept him at official
crossings. But they had underestimated the Mad Trapper
of Rat River once again. The Richardson Mountains were dangerous terrain,
so most travellers went through the now-blocked passages. But Johnson took the harder route, secretly
climbing a seven thousand foot peak and disappearing once again into the wild - crossing the border
into the Yukon. The Mounted Police had been embarrassed by
the rogue trader once again, and they needed specialized talent. Fortunately, there was a war hero looking
for a new gig. Wilfred “Wop” May had received great acclaim
for both his heroic airfights in the First World War and for his work as a pilot for
Canadian Airways. He had even been involved in the final dogfight
that claimed the life of the legendary Red Baron. Now his skills would be called on again, as
the manhunt took on a new dimension - in the air. His monoplane was able to cover much more
terrain than the Mounted Police could on foot, and he spotted Johnson’s tracks on the Richardson
Mountains. Coming off the mountains, May was able to
see Johnson’s trail following Caribou footprints. The savvy trapper had used their footprints
to disguise his own, but there was still evidence of the times he made camp. Finally, the police were back on the trail
of Canada’s greatest fugitive. It was February 17th when the Royal Canadian
Mounted Police and their posse finally caught up to the suspect. The final showdown was to be on the Eagle
River in the Yukon territory. With May’s eyes in the sky, the officers
were able to locate Johnson less than a mile in front of them. The frozen landscape didn’t leave much room
to hide if you weren’t in the woods. Johnson made a run for it, but he had made
a fatal error - he didn’t have his snowshoes on. Slowed down, he did the only thing he could. He turned around and aimed at his pursuers
- one last time. Johnson fired on the officers, wounding one
seriously. But this time, the officers had better aim. One bullet found its target, entering Albert
Johnson’s pelvis and passing through his vital organs and severing his main arteries. He bled out quickly, and the reign of the
Mad Trapper of Rat River came to a sudden end. But the officers’ attention was on their
wounded colleague, with Wop May landing and loading the man into his plane. He flew him to safety, saving his life and
ending Johnson’s reign of terror with only one dead. But the Mad Trapper had some surprises in
him from beyond the grave. An investigation after the shooting revealed
some shocking facts. Johnson had traveled over eighty-five miles
in the Canadian winter over his month-long time as a fugitive, far more than an average
person would be capable of. Doctors estimated he must have been burning
ten thousand calories a day with very little resources. Additionally, he had never been heard to say
a single word - only a single twisted laugh as he shot the unfortunate Constable Millen. The only thing more shocking was what they
found on his body. Most traveling trappers in the Canadian North
were working to make a living and sold their wares to powerful trading companies. But Johnson wasn’t poor. He had over two thousand dollars in both Canadian
and American money on him, and his teeth had expensive gold fillings. He was carrying several weapons, pieces of
gold, a dead bird and dead squirrel, and oddly, some laxative pills. He had been well-prepared, but what triggered
this surprisingly wealthy man to launch his reign of terror in the Canadian north? Who was Albert Johnson? Maybe the better question is - was there ever
an Albert Johnson? This notorious fugitive seemed to come out
of nowhere, and there was never any record of the man in any official documents. This led most experts to assume that he was
a pseudonym, someone taking on a new identity and maybe trying to stay ahead of those looking
for them from their old life. Of course, Johnson had no problem making new
trouble in his new identity. Shortly after his death, the Mounted Police
sent out pictures of him around the country and its southern neighbor, hoping to identify
him. And that’s when the suspects began emerging. Initially, many people thought a traveler
by the name of Arthur Nelson could be their mystery man. He had visited British Columbia, had similar
guns, and worked as a trapper before heading to the Yukon. Decades later, a Yukon author would propose
that these two men were both aliases of the North Dakota criminal John Johnson, a past
resident of San Quentin and Folsom Prison. While the two looked alike, it was deemed
unlikely that John Johnson would have expensive gold fillings, and decades later DNA testing
would debunk this theory. It seemed like the Mad Trapper would fade
into history. The story had been notorious in its time,
but soon the only remnant in the area would be on a tributary of the Rat River, now named
for the late Constable Edgar Millen. The story generated a good number of books
speculating on the identity of Albert Johnson, including a Nova Scotia claiming he might
have been their relative Owen Johnson. And of course, Hollywood eventually came calling. A number of songs and three films based on
the story were released - most controversially the 1981 Charles Bronson film Death Hunt - which
angered many Canadians who knew of the story by changing Johnson to a sympathetic antihero,
Millen to an aged drunk who wanted to hunt him down at all costs, and Wop May to a renegade
pilot who irresponsibly shot his own men. But almost seventy years after the manhunt,
the story of the Mad Trapper had one more surprise. It was 2009 when the mystery was dug up again
- literally. A television program had arranged for Albert
Johnson’s body to be exhumed so DNA samples could be taken. The Discovery Channel exhumed the body in
2007 and compared his DNA with samples from all the most popular suspects, including Norwegian
draft-dodger Sigvald Pedersen Haaskjold, who had emerged as a suspect decades later. The program aired the reveals of the DNA tests
one by one - and every single one showed the same thing. None of the DNA tests matched, proving that
the true identity of Albert Johnson was none of them. In fact, he wasn’t Canadian at all, with
the isotopes in his teeth showing that he was either from the American midwest or Scandinavia. More than seventy years after the manhunt,
the Mad Trapper of Rat River was still doing what he did best - leaving his pursuers puzzled
and without answers. For more on current manhunts, check out “Scariest
Criminals on US Marshals’ Most Wanted List” or check out this video instead.
