188 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



work is nothing but a travesty on life in Canada. Any author, 

 any illustrator, any playwright, any scenario writer, any actor 

 or any director who depicts Canadian wilderness hfe in that 

 way is either an ignoramus or a shameless humbug. And to 

 add strength to my statement I shall quote the experience of a 

 gentleman who was the first City Clerk, Treasurer, Assessor, 

 and Tax Collector of Dawson City — Mr. E. Ward Smith: 



POLICE AND GUNMEN 



"The Mounted Police generally received word in advance 

 when any particularly bad character was headed for the 

 Yukon, and in all such cases he was met when he slipped off the 

 boat. I remember particularly one case of the kind, as I 

 happened to be on hand when the American gunman landed. 

 He was a quiet enough looking individual and had no weapons 

 of any kind in sight, but a close scrutiny revealed the fact that 

 he had a particularly evil eye in his sandy-freckled face. One 

 of the Mounties picked him out unerringly and tapped him on 

 the shoulder. 



'"Gat Gardiner.^' he asked. 



"'No,' said the newcomer. 'My name is Davidson.' 



'* 'I happen to know you as Gat Gardiner,' insisted the police- 

 man. 'Got any weapons on you.*^' 



"'Leave go of me,' flared the so-called Davidson, all the 

 veneer of civihty gone. 'You got nothing on me. Let go, I 

 say!' 



"'I've got something on you,' declared the policeman, haul- 

 ing a revolver from the hip pocket of the man. 'Carrying con- 

 cealed weapons is against the law on this side the hne. Back 

 on the boat, you, and don't you dare put foot ashore or I'll have 

 you in jail. You go back the way you came.' 



"And Gardiner went. I saw him leaning over the rail when 

 the boat started on the return trip and he shook his fist at the 



