The Hartford herald. [volume] (Hartford, Ky.) 1875-1926, 1910-09-28
OF Scene When He Killed
His Wounded Wife
TO SAVE HER FROM TORTURE
Of Being Eaten by Wolves
Thrown Over 1000
Foot Precipice.
HUSBANDS TERRIBLE STORY

years ago James Mcdowell, then a
prospector in the Canadian North
west, shot his wife, who was mortal
! ly wounded and miles from help, to
save her from a worse death. For IL
years after he had been exonerated
by a jury of his fellowmen. his mind
was in such a condition that he did
not realize what he had done.
Two years ago, however, his brain
cleared, but the remembrance of that
awful experience has shattered his
nerves until he is now hardly more
than the wreck of a man.
Mcdowell is now living with old
friends in The Bronx. He is So years
old, six feet tall and a gaunt remind
er of what was once a physically per-
feet man.
The thought that he killed his
wife, despite tho fact that it was the
only course open to him, is with him
constantly and his sunken eyes tell
of wearisome days and sleepless
nights.
He is averse to talking of the ex-
perience of IA years ago, but tonight
consented to tell his story.
MY wife was Fanny Crawford, a
native of Alberta Province" he said.
Her father was John Crawford, who
had been a miner and a prospector
in California and Canada for years.
He and / had been close friends and
are yet. Fanny was only %, half my
age, when we were married.
II had a rich claim near Castle
Mountain, in which is the Columbian
extension of the Cascade Range, and
a few months after we were married
l decided to visit it. had been there
some time before and had cut a
rough trail to the claim.
} Fanny begged me to take her
with me- 1 demurred, as it was no
place for a woman, but she persisted
and | finally consented. We visited
! friends in Calgary for a few days
while | was purchasing supplies and
then started for the mine, a five
days journey by mules. We had
three mules, one for my wife, one
for myself and the third for a pack
animal, carrying provisions and tools
for building a cabin, as intended to
do some work on the claim.
The trails on Castle Mountain are
very narrow and steep, so much 50
that it is difficult for even a mule to
pass over them. On July 6, 1896, We
were going along one of these trails.
My wife was some yards ahead of me,
and l was lounging in the saddle half
asleep. 1t was about 10 o'clock in
the forenoon, and we had been riding
three hours.
Suddenly my wife's mule brayed
as if in pain, and looked up to see
him rearing on the very edge of
precipiee. l have always thought he
was stung by a hornet. | tried to
reach my wife's side, but before l
COulu uO 81, IhS muiO Piuh6SN wv
the precipice, carrying Fanny with
him.
81 threw myself on the ground and
peered over the edge. | could hear
the mules body crashing through
the trees and among the rocks to the
bottom, fully 1000 feet. / nearly
pitched over myself.
How long lay there | don't
know. Finally | got on my feet. The
trail was so narrow that my mule
could not turn around, and l was
forced to go higher up the mountain
until l could find place to descend.
at was almost IL hours later be-
/ fore found the carcass of the mule.
had eaten nothing for almost "a
hours, and was nearly insane from
grief, hunger and thirst. My cloth
ing and flesh were torn by the rocks
over which / had crawled, my skin
was almost blistered by the heat and
my eyes smarted so that l could
hardly see.
81 left the dead mule and crawled
on. Fifty yards away found a
shapeless mass lying among the
rocks. 1t was my wife, alive, but
mercifully unconscious. l think ev-
cry bone in her body must have been
broken. There was great cash on
her forehead, but she was breathing
family.
II mixed some brandy with water
from my canteen and forced 1t down
her throat. When she revived few
minutes later her suffering was in
tense. She begged me to shoot her
and end the agony.
There was not human being
within a hundred miles, SO far as 1
knew. The nearest medical help was
at Calgary, 100 miles away. 1t would