Not long afterwards there was a similar case, though it did not go so far. Eastern contractors and workmen, who had not been used to seeing war-paint, were naturally somewhat alarmed one day when a band of Indians rushed at them with the air of people who owned the earth and wished to hold it for themselves. Superintendent Shurtcliffe of the Mounted Police received an S. O. S. call on that particular occasion from a contractor who was getting out ties from a bush, and had been forced to leave “on the double quick” when a chief with the portentous name of “Front Man” swooped down on his tie gang with a band of yelling Indians. Shurtcliffe summoned “Front Man” and told him how dangerous a thing it was to interfere with the progress of work authorized by the Canadian Government. When Mr. “Front Man” heard that it was practically the Government he had been chasing, he was very penitent and promised the Mounted Police officer that he would behave himself in the future. Whereupon the contractor and his men, with a new appreciation of the men in scarlet and gold, went back to prosecute, unmolested, their peaceful and highly necessary tie business.

There was a famous riot case at the Beaver River in the mountains, early in 1885, where several hundreds of rough men, many of them reckless aliens, went on strike during construction, and were backed by lawless camp-followers at that temporary terminus. There were only some eight Mounted Police to keep order, although many of the navvies and the disorderly characters in the place were heavily armed. The police detachment, however, was commanded by that redoubtable officer, Superintendent Samuel B. Steele (later Major-General Sir S. B. Steele), with his second in command, Sergeant Fury, a short, heavy-set, quiet man who could be all that his name suggested if occasion required. When the strike was pending Steele told the strikers that he would not interfere in the question itself as the police never took sides, but he warned them that they must keep the peace and not commit any acts of violence or he would punish them to the full extent of the law.

A few days later Steele was down in bed with mountain fever, and one of his men, Constable Kerr, had gone to the town to get him some medicine.

When Kerr was coming back he saw a mob being incited by a well-known desperate character to make an attack on the barracks and to destroy the railway property. Kerr, though alone, promptly arrested the man, but he was overpowered by the mob and the prisoner rescued. Kerr reported to Fury, who in turn reported to Steele, who was in bed, as the strikers knew. Steele said, “It will never do to let the gang think they can play with us,” and sent Fury with one of the constables with orders to arrest the man. The arrest was made, but the two policemen were again overpowered and came back to report with their uniforms torn by the mob. The police were not “gunmen” and never used weapons unless as a last resort. The limit had been reached in this case, and Steele said to Fury, “Take three men and go back and shoot any one who interferes to prevent you making the arrest.” Fury went back with Constables Fane, Craig and Walters, while the other four constables guarded the barracks which were slated for attack. Johnston, a magistrate, was there to read the Riot Act, if necessary. In a few minutes there was a shot, and Johnston said “Some one in that gang has gone to kingdom come.” Steele leaped out of bed and went to the window. Craig and Walters were dragging the prisoner across the bridge over the Beaver, the desperado fighting like a demon and a scarlet woman following them with oaths and curses. Fury and Fane were in the rear, trying to hold back a mob of some three hundred men. Steele called on Johnston to come and read the Riot Act, and ignoring his own fevered condition, he grabbed a rifle and started running across the bridge calling the other men to follow. The mob could hardly believe their eyes when they saw Steele and shouted with oaths, “Even his deathbed does not scare him.” In the meantime the desperate prisoner was struggling fiercely with his captors, biting, kicking and shouting till they were on the bridge, when Walters lifted his powerful fist and struck him on the head, and, with Craig, dragged him like a rag into the barracks, where they left him and rushed back to help their comrades. Johnston read the Riot Act and Steele, rifle in hand, told the rioters that if he saw any man of them trying to reach for his gun he would shoot him. He told them to disperse and that if he saw more than ten of them together he would order his men to mow them down. And the little detachment of eight policemen stood there with magazines charged ready to carry out orders. The riot collapsed in five minutes, and the leaders of it were sentenced next day. The trouble never cropped up again. The roughs at the Beaver had tried the game of rioting with the wrong men. And cool, daring men like these were all along the line to keep the lawless in mind of the fact that lawlessness would not be tolerated for a moment in the Mounted Police country.

It is not unexpectedly, then, that we come across two special letters from builders of the great railway, expressing their thanks to the Mounted Police. The first is from Mr. (later Sir) William C. Van Horne, who was not given to saying gushing things. Here it is,

“January 1, 1883.

“Dear Sir:

“Our work of construction for the year 1882 has just closed, and I cannot permit the occasion to pass without acknowledging the obligations of the Company to the North-West Mounted Police, whose zeal and industry in preventing traffic in liquor and preserving order along the line of construction have contributed so much to the successful prosecution of the work. Indeed, without the assistance of the officers and men of the splendid force under your command it would have been impossible to have accomplished as much as we did. On no great work within my knowledge, where so many men have been employed, has such perfect order prevailed. On behalf of the Company and all their officers, I wish to return thanks and to acknowledge particularly our obligations to yourself and Major Walsh.

“I am, sir,

“Yours very truly,