Not far from the Canadian border in northwest Maine lies Big Bog, just west of Fifth St. John Pond.
The bog stretches and winds for miles, broken only by Big Bog Brook, a serpentine waterway once used by the Great Northern Paper Company to sluice logs southward.
In early September, while visiting the bog and the nearby campsite with my friend Mark Cain, we were struck by the solitude and the expansiveness of it all.
Strolling about the campsite, a memorial stone set prominently overlooking the brook caught my eye. Then it dawned on me: ‘Big Bog Brook! This is where those two Maine game wardens mysteriously disappeared in the fall of 1922.’
I had heard the story in bits and pieces a number of times, but when I chose Big Bog Brook as our moose scouting destination, I hadn’t put two and two together.
The stone in the wardens’ honor reads: ‘This spot marks the location where Maine game wardens David F. Brown and Mertley E. Johnson died in the line of duty, end of watch Nov. 15, 1922. Gone but not forgotten.’
It may sound melodramatic, but when you gaze at the stone and try to imagine that time and era of fish and wildlife law enforcement, Big Bog seems to take on a persona.
You know it holds a secret about what really happened to these two men. The temptation is to ask, ‘You were there, flowing freely like you are today. What happened? What do you know?’
The two wardens set out on foot in early November to check on beaver poachers at Big Bog.
Their families were told to expect them back by Thanksgiving. Neither of the two men was ever seen alive again.
Their destination had been Big Bog, which was a trapping hotspot for American and Canadian beaver trappers. In those days, beaver pelts were highly valued and so the stakes were high and market killing of wildlife was not uncommon.
According to modern-day Game Warden Kale O’Leary, who has researched this story thoroughly, the search turned up nothing. But then in the spring of 1923, the bodies of Brown and Johnson were found in the water under the ice at Big Bog.
The autopsy, which ruled the cause of death as presumed drowning, showed no water in the lungs of the deceased. Both men were physically fit, and the brook’s depth never exceeded four feet. The idea that they had both drowned simply didn’t add up. What’s more, a long rifle and a revolver belonging to the missing wardens were never found.
Suspicion of foul play led to an exhaustive investigation. Suspects included two Canadian trappers from Quebec, the Rodrigue brothers, who had been trapping in the bog and camping in the area around the time of the wardens’ disappearance. Reports indicated that one of the brothers had quit and crossed back into Canada before the trapping season ended.
Of course, mysteries like this always give rise to stories. Trappers familiar with the area believed the Rodrigue brothers had set a trap — not for beavers, but for wardens Johnson and Brown. According to O’Leary, one report suggested that the poachers had rigged a footbridge to drop as the wardens crossed Big Bog Brook.
Odds are Big Bog will never reveal its secret; yet, sometimes, with the passing of time, hints of the truth manage to slip out
You wonder: Is there a descendant of the brothers who has heard the real story passed down through family lore? Or could it have been another beaver poacher altogether who was responsible for the deaths of the two men?
Over the years, many other Maine Game Wardens, apart from Brown and Johnson, have lost their lives in the line of duty while safeguarding Maine’s fish and wildlife. We owe them all a debt of gratitude.
