A MOUNTAIN TRAGEDY.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XXII, Issue 7270, 7 March 1885, Page 2 (Supplement)

A MOUNTAIN TRAGEDY.

Tiik wind howled aud roared through the trees in Newlaud Gulch (saye the Denver News) as though ten thousand fiends had broken loose. Anon it would sink into a solemn and mournful dirge, then, as if a whole kingdom of furies had been let loose, the noise would be perfectly deafening. Everyone in the camp had "turned in" except the select poker party, who had a big game in the tent at " the forks." Six roughlooking miners sat around the table, intent as if their lives depended upon the various deals. At times the noiee without almost precluded conversation, and the betting was done chiefly by signs. Suddenly Bill Ahem, who sat opposite the entrance, and who waa dealing, happening to cast his eyes upward, saw a vision that saemed to transfix him in the midst of the deal. Noticing his action and fixed stare with which he gazed over their heads, the others turned quickly around, and there, at the opening stood a woman, young, and who would have been prepossessing but for her bedraggled state. Her hair was dishevelled and floating over her shoulders in a confused mass, and the water was pouring from her soaked garments in streams. Wildly and plsadingly she addressed them, "Oh, gentlemen, help please —my husband—he is dying down thegulch I" THE GAME STOPPED. Instantly the poker game was broken up, and those rough men, whose humane instincts were easily stirred, ran out into the darkness and the storm. Down the gulch went the woman, followed by the six men, crossing on a rocky ford below where the mad stream dashed and roared, threatening to carry them off their feet, to a level mesa beyond, across which she led them to a sharp bend in the creek, perhaps three-fourths of a mile below the camp. There, in the shelter of a scanty scrub-oak thicket, a man waa found lying, evidently dying. Carefully he was taken from the wet ground, and carried back over the slippery and perilous trail and taken into one of the more substantial tents, where he was laid on the floor and some blankets before a huce fire, which had been kindled purposely. It waa soon evident that his life was slowly but surely ebbing. Suddenly, and with an effort, he raised himself upon his elbow, staring around with eyes whose sight was already dimmed with the shadows of death, and reached out hi 3 hands in such a suppliant, pitiful manner, then in a voice husky and weak, he ejaculated, "Mary." Quickly going to him and taking his head in her lap, oh, so tenderly, ehe stroked his hair, already damp with the dew of death, and placing her ear to his mouth, listened to his laboured, whispered words with a world of affection and love in her face. A TOCCHiyo SCENE. The group in the tent at this moment was striking — in the foreground and immediately in the firelight the recumbent figure of the dying man ou the floor, with his head supported by the woman, and the flickering light from the blazing logs playing fantastically on the two central figures ; in the background, partly shrouded by the gloom, were the group of miners standing with their hats off, in respectful attitude, awaiting the presence of the angel of death who wa3 hovering near. An ominous rattle in the throat, a convulsive gasp, and all was over. Oh, what a helpless, pitiful look cams over the face of the woman as she glanced at the pitying faces around her, aud then buried her head iu her hands. Looking up shortly with a tear-stained face, she said, ia a voice sad but sweet, "Gentlemen, I thank you for your kindness to me more than I can say. This is my husband. We were on our way to Denver in the stage, but the high water made the ford impasiable, and as ho waa very ill and they told ue of this camp, we started iu the darkness and the storm, bat had not gone far before he became exhausted and sank down on the trail, and I hastened here for assistance. We have just coaie from the east for his health, which has been bad for some time, thinking be would get relief in this milder climate, but it is all over now." Again bowing her head, she wept bitterly for a time. Then Bill Ahern, knowing that something should be done, but scarcely realising what, touched her on the arm and said, "Bsgparding, misses; the boys here want to do something for you, but don't know how. We thought as you would rather be alone like, and maybe we had better take the body to another tent." " No, no," said the woman, throwing her arm? aronnd the liody, "I must stay with him." Then, in an apologetic voice, "Excuse me, but lam nesrly wild with grief. I would rather stay with him this one night"—this in an imploring tone.

DIED OF A BROKEX HEAKT. The men got their heads together, aud finally concluded to give up the tent to the woman and her dead for the night. Announcing this to her, they silently tiled out into the darkness, back to where they had been playing, but that game was not resamod. They taked over the incident until the grey light of dawn. The rain having ceased, the sun shortly afterward came irarching over the hill in magnificent splendour. Soon the whole camp was awake, and smoke from the numerous fires indicated that the morning meal was in preparation. Ahem and the rest waited until the sun was high in the heavens for some sign of life from the tent, but none came. They had cooked a breakftst for the lonely mourner, but hesitated to disturb her. Finally—the morning being pretty far advanced—it was resolved that Ahern should be the spokesman in tendering their hospitality. Going to the opening be pushed back the flies, and found the woman iu exactly the same position as they had left her the preceding night. Speaking to her he received uo answer, aud goiugcloser, thinking she had fallen asleep, he shook her, gently at first, then more strongly ; she never moved. Becoming alarmed he raised her head, and to Us horror eaw that she, too, was dead. As there was no outward apparent cause, they concluded that she had died of a broken heart. On a beautiful little plateau overlooking the gulch, in a bed of pr&irie lilies, wild roses, and honeysuckles, they dug two graves side by tide, and, placing boards at their head, placed on them, in rude characters, "Strangers, died June 30, 1569," and despite every etfort, no information of the unfortunate pair, as to who they were, or where they ame from, was ever obtained.