Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1913-10-01
KATE CEDARS' VOW
WOman'S Strange and Inhuman
Threat Worked Out in Land
of Big Horn.
BY COL. WILLIAM F. CODY.


been my companion and faithful fol-
lower on the plains, and on more
than one occasion had witnessed his
superhuman courage in hand-to-hand
conflicts with the Indians and border
roughs. But he was as sensitive as
a girl and as sympathetic, while he
was as superstitious as an Indian He
saw signs that he accepted as warn
ings and messages in about every
thing, and by these he was so strong
ly Influenced that to sway him was an
utter impossibility.
He told me once that there was only
one thing on earth that he feared.
This was his meeting with Kate Ce-
dars, woman whom he had formerly
known in Denver, and whom he had
deserted. But he had done this in
no underhand way. He had frankly
told her of his resolve, and the reason
he deemed separation better
AS he turned to leave her, she ex-
claimed: II have but one wish to live
for, and that is to cut off your ears!
That will be my revenge; mark my
words!"
Such an idle speech as this coming
from a woman should scarcely have
any influence over the average man.
But from the day Kate Cedars, in
her anger, expressed it as her desire,
poor Bill had never been the same
fellow. More than once he had told
me that he had seen the woman, not
alone in the dreams that had visited
him in his sleep, but in those that
had come to him in the daytime, and
that at these periods she looked fully
capable of gratifying her desire.
Strange that man who had faced
death in thousand different ways,
and who otherwise did not know the
meaning of fear, should be so singu-
larly impressed by the impassioned ut
terance Of a thoroughly INSCRIPTIONS
woman. However, knew this to be
the case. Bill had repeatedly told me
that though he felt that he would die
with his boots on, he was equally GER
tain that at that period his ears would
now since he left the woman, and
hoped that she and her inhuman wish
had passed from his mind forever.
1t was in the memorable summer of
'76, soon after the Custer massacre, I
had joined Cooks command and had
gone up to the Yellowstone. Terry had
a command in the field, also Gibbon.
The Indians had split up and scat
tered, and there seemed to be little
chance Of a fight.
! While encamped on the Yellowstone,
Crook was anxious to get important
dispatches to Gibbon, who was about
$50 miles away. l volunteered to be
the bearer, but was forced to abandon
the undertaking to my pard Bill He
came to me and said that he had a
presentiment, and that he absolutely
must carry the dispatches. Seeing that
he was thoroughly in earnest, l gave
way to him.
This journey was beset with danger.
Every foot of the country was being
watched by the Indians, who had look
outs on all high points. Every move
ment Of ours was known to them. 1t
could only be accomplished, if accom-
plished at all, by riding in the night,
and hiding in the bush and chaparral
during the day. Bill started without
giving me any hint respecting the ma
ture of the presentiment.
Five days later, while camping on
the Powder river, a courier from
Gibbons command rode up to me
and said:
Bill Hickman is badly off at our
camp and wants to see you
What's the NATTER" l asked, with
sincere concern.
The Indians must have jumped him
in the canyon" was the reply.
He is badly hacked up, and he can't
live"
DO you return?" 1 asked.
AS soon as l can get a fresh
mount" was the answer.
Il will be ready" was my reply.
With the exception of one little
brush with a small party Of In
dams, we reacheu Gibbons camp on
the third day without adventure.
went at once to the tent used as a
hospital.
Poor Bill was in bed. The small
portion Of his face that was exposed
looked emaciated and strange. 1t was
as white as the dry bed of an alkali
lake, and there was a peculiarly indie,
scribable expression in the eyes. His
throat was encircled with heavy ban
dages, and these were bound across
his head, covering his ears. The hand
he extended was cold, and he trem-
bled. l had been warned by the sur
geons not to permit him to talk He
motioned me to sit beside him on the
bed.
Il told you," he began in a feeble
voice, that l had a presentiment.
heard a voice that l did not recognize
say plainly: Bill, you carry those
dispatches tomorrow heard this dis
tinctly three times, and naturally
thought it would be good medicine
for me. Had l recognized the voice,