Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-09-22

keep bit to starboard, as there was
big coral bowlder right in front of the
spot they were steering for.
Aye, aye!' answered the man steer
ing, and he did as told him. In an
other minute or two the boat shot up On
the beach, and we crowded round them.
Stand back, please, says the
officer, speaking in a curious, hurried
kind of way, and then saw that he
had pistol in his left hand, and that the
men with him looked white and scared,
and seemed to take no notice of u.s.
1.-TWO of the men jumped out, and
then we saw that there was another
person in the boat-a woman. She was
sitting on the bottom boards, lying
against the stern sheets, and seemed to
be either asleep or dead. The officer
helping them. they lifted her up and
out Of the boat and carried her ashore.
Then the officer turns to me, and 1 saw
that though he tried to speak quietly he
was in furry over something
What's all this?' I said. What's
the matter? What have you got this
pistol in your hand for, and what is
the matter with this woman
He put the pistol out of sight pretty
quick, and then, speaking SO rapidly I
could hardly follow him, said that the
lady was the captains wife, and she
had been taken i'll very suddenly, and
her husband, seeing my house SO close
to, had determined to send her ashore
and see if anything could DO done for
her.
"'That's - queer I said. why
didn't he come with her himself? Look
here-I don't believe all this How did
he know, even though the house is here,
that white man lives in it? And want
to have look at the woman's face. She
might be dead for all l know.
BY this time my wife and one Of
Rotau's wives had gone up to the wom-
an, and I saw that, although she wasn't
dead, she looked very like 1T, for her
eyes were closed, and she seemed quite
unconscious of all that was going OH.
She was young-about % or so-and
was rather pretty.
"'Please take her to your house, ,
says the officer, and as soon as we
have towed the ship out CT danger the
captain will come ashore and see you.
"'Hold on!' says I, and I grabbed
him by the arm. do you mean to say
you're going off in this fashion without
telling me anything further? Who are
you anyway? What is the ship s uame?'
"He hesitated just second and then
said: The Inca Prince, Captain Brough-
ton. But can't stay to talk now. The
captain himself will tell you about it in
the morning.
"And then, before could stop MIN,
he jumped back out Of my reach into
the boat, and the four sailors, two of
whom were niggers Of some sort, showed
off, and away they went again.
"Well, we carried the woman up to
the house and placed her in chair,
and the moment my wife took off the
wooden wrapper that covered her head
and shoulders she cried out that there
was blood running down her neck. And
it didn't take me long to discover that
the woman was dying from u bullet
wound in the back Of her head.
"We did all that we possibly could
for the poor thing, but she never re-
gained consciousness, and toward sun.
rise she died quietly. There was moth
ing about her clothing to show who she
was, but she wore rings such as would
belong to woman of some position.
That she had been murdered I could not
doubt, and perhaps some day, even after
all these years, the crime may come to
light"
But what became Of the ship" asked
the mate of the Indiana.
"Out of sight by s o'clock in the
morning. As soon as I saw what was
the matter with the woman I knew that
we need not expect to see any one from
the ship back again"
IT wonder what the true story of that
woman's death was?" said Packenham
thoughtfully as he looked toward the
place where she was buried.
"Heaven only knows" answered the
old trader. whether it was mutiny
and her husband was murdered, or
whether the officer who came ashore
with her was the captain himself and
her husband as we'll cannot tell. Any
way, I have since learned that there
never was ship named the Inca Prince
I've told the story to every shipmaster
I've met since that night, and it was
written about a good deal in the Eng
lish and American newspapers. Then
the affair was forgotten, and, like many
another such thing, the secret may
never come out. London Chronicle.
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