TALES OF NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LIV, Issue 233, 30 March 1912, Page 9

TALES OF NORTH-WEST MOUNTED POLICE

INTERESTING INCIDENTS. During my Canadian tour, says & writer in the Empire Magazine, I endea' , vored to find some written records of the tasks of these "Riders of the Plains," None exist; but out on the prairie they speak of that ancient Scottish police—the Black Watch. Perhaps the befit : that story of the last Indian rebellion . when the redskins came out on the warpath. Not satisfied with their antics on Canadian soil they marched across the border to the States. Uncle Sam got very much alarmed and despatched an army corps with guns to surround and march them off again. They reachefl "The Line." Then the American officer sent for a similar Canadian force to escort the warriors to ther reservations. "All right," was the laconic reply. Next morning there was seen coming over the plairi a solitary trooper. ' "Where's the force?" enquired the American officer riding up to the ted jacket. "I guess I'm the force," said he, somewhat wryly, "the sergeant's gone for drink." j "What? Only two of yotlt" ejaculated the officer, fearful of their lives. "Yes, and I reckon that's one too many for this- job. Come on, you red devilsl" he said, waving his hand. The Indians started up with glee, and, following this / solitary horesman, went peacefully baclc to their homes. Only a brave man could have done this, yet this brave man was mighty sore • ,! of his skin, for he knew that his jacket : : ■■>! was the sign of that power sometimes ■ described as the iron hand in the velvet glove.' This tradition has been achieved • = through feats that seem like fiction. A. sergeant has been known to ride into a camp of bloodthirsty Sioux, the bravest of Indians even" when drunk with tha blood of slaughter, and, armed and fan- ; J atical as they were, to have arrested the > chief and dragged him out from their midst. Yet no one dared to ruffle s hair of his head! Supremely impudent! Supremely daring 1 Yet if you called him brave, he would probably send you to I '■ *' ' Hades. In the detachment that came over for j;the Coronation was an Irish Corporal whose deeds shall pass to history. A big, raw-boned, fearless man with a mighty fist and voluble curse; one who could plug his man- through his jacket' pooket, and in a tussle crack his ribs at the first embrace. ; There was trouble in a mining camp . :i i near the border—a lot of American ■c' "toughs" lording the saloons with their I v ' guns. "Mick" was Bent down to put - things right. Only Mick—not a detach- , , ment. Think of it! They waited for - 7 his coming, stretched a barbed wire ' " > across the road, then lay low. Unconscious of his. danger, the corporal was 1 •> ambling on the road. Out jumped three , ' - scoundrels. Murder they meant till that thick fist shot out, and sent the first man low. Out again and the next was down. But the'third man didn't wait. "He hooked it," as they say out West. 1 ''t "Come on, ye darned skunks, get up!" ■ . 1 ; said Mick, kicking their treacheron* bodies., Rising, he made them march in 'i front, then, mounting his horse again," made a triumphal entry into the town. "This police chap's got to be 'fixed,'" - was tjje' judgment in the low saloon. ■ ! ' : They brought the news to Mick. > "Oi'll fix the divils," he said, taking •». up a big cudgel and marching down. Looking through the . window, he saw the rascals in deep confab. Each had a ' gun at his hip. Undaunted, he flung the door widely open, and, smashing his '< M big cudgel on their table, shouted, - "Up every man of yez, or Oi'll brain ye." ■, ; They rose with the sweat of death on' *. j, their brows. . •'

"Down wid yer guns," was the next command. They could not get rid of .'j them quick enough, i "Now, ye dhirty rascals, if I foind yez i: " here agin, Oi'll kil ye. Out ye go." , v „ And out they went. They were never • ' « seen again, for they crossed the border next daj'. l ,'i. "4". . _