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CAPTURE OF ALBERT JOHNSON There in that far-north country lived a trapper thought insane. Some of his redskin neighbors to the pólice sent a complaint. Two redcoats of the Mounties, who are known for their fame, Went north to find the trouble. On this trapper was put the blame. They journeyed out to his cabin. No harm was meant, you know. But the trapper with his six-gun, he laid a Mountie low. 'Twas then that the trouble started, and as the story goes forth, It was the greatest manhunt in the hist'ry of the north. For weeks and weeks they trailed him through the snow and the bitter cold, And the hardships that he endured we folks will never know. Once when they had him surrounded while trailing him through the snow, He laid another deadly shot, laid another Mountie low. Still on and on they trailed him. This trapper he knew his game. He'd backtrack on his trailers, this man they thought insane. Now the chances of his escape for the trapper they were too slim. They hunted him by day. They hunted him by night. This manhunt they must win. Then just in the evening twilight, he was climbing up a hill. This trapper sighted his trailers, aimed another shot to kill. Down deep in the snow for shelter, the bullets were flying low. He aimed another deadly shot, laid another Mountie low. The rest of them heard the shooting. They quickly joined the lead; And under a hail of bullets his riddled body dropped dead. Now the greatest of the manhunts are [sic] ended in the history of that northern land, But we'll give credit to the Mountie. They always get their man. As recorded by Montana Slim (Wilf Carter) @Canada filename[ ALBJOHNS HHS Feb07 |
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