John M. Henderson, William Lee Henderson

(On the same census page as Fremont in 1910, William Henderson is a ranch manager, 60 born in Pennsylvania, and Emma 52 Indiana have step-daughter Jessie Brown, 28. proprietor of a millinery store)

W.L. Henderson had married Emma Brown on August 21, 1890, performed by L.L. Kneeland, Baptist Minister of Sterling.
Emma claimed a quarter in section 24, 7N 51W in 1891. She was born in Indiana as Emma Diffendarfer.


George E. 1839-1915 and Elizabeth J. 1851-1934 are buried in Sterling

In 1870 Titusville, Pennsylvania William Henderson is 54, Mary B. 50, Milton P. 24, W.Lee 20, Ellie 17, Ida q14, John M. 12.

1890 Sterling "Hon. Wm. M. Henderson and wife, of Titusville, Pa., father and mother of J. M. and Lee Henderson, are in the city visiting their sons.  They are well pleased with Colorado."  -



1892 "State Auditor and Mrs. John Henderson arrived in Greeley Saturday and visited with City Clerk and Mrs. M.P. Henderson over the 'fourth'."

1899 " John M. Henderson, formerly of Sterling, was a Julesburg visitor Tuesday.  He owns land south of Sedgwick."

According to William M. Henderson's obituary in a May 1900 Titusville, Pennsylvania, newspaper, probably the Titusville Herald, William was elected to various Titusville municipal boards, including the school board and was appointed and then elected city treasurer.87 "Besides his children Mrs. Frederick Feezer, of Greeley, Col.; John M. Henderson, Milton and Lee Henderson, of Sterling, Col.; deceased is survived by one brother, Joseph C. Henderson, of Oil Creek township [Crawford County]; two sisters, Mrs. David White, Forestville, N.Y., and Mrs. Sarah Andre of near Pleasantville. His daughter, Dr. Ida Henderson, preceded him to the grave five years ago and his wife three years ago."

In 1885 Hastings, Nebraska, Henry 45 and Mary 44 Shedd have Addie 17, Fanny 15, Clara 19, and Charley 9.  - Clara is a teacher.


In 1900 Titusville, Pennsylvania, John M. born Feb 1858 is a broker and Clara S. a court reporter born April 1866 Illinois have been married ten years.  Cousin Ida B. Henderson April 1876, cousin is with them.

Mary Shedd, born Aug 1839 in New York, is in Chicago in 1900, and son Charles F. June 1876 Illinois, a telegrapher, is with her.

Mary born Aug 24 1839 in New York, died in Chicago Oct 20, 1913, to be buried in Jackson, Michigan. 17594476  Father was Clark Hall, mother a Johnson.

 In 1880, John was living with his parents; enumerated as a bank teller. John M. was the Colorado state auditor from 1891-1893. In 1900, John and Clara and cousin Ida B. Henderson were living in Titusville, Pennsylvania, where John was listed as a broker and Clara as a court stenographer. By 1910, John and Clara had moved to Chicago, Illinois, where John M. was enumerated as "Secretary Consulting."  John and Clara were still in Chicago in 1930, where John was still active, being listed as a bookkeeper of a print supply business. An important Henderson genealogy source was John M. Henderson’s 1940 letter to Margaret (Williams) Robb (#228)—see “Introduction”. When living in Chicago, John M. Henderson had access to major Chicago libraries.

Consists of a brief essay written by John M. Henderson, an early day pioneer in Logan County, Colorado, in which he describes his time working on the JB Ranch, a buffalo hunt conducted by unidentified Indians, and his life in the cattle industry in the region.

John M. 1858-1956 and Clara (Shedd) Henderson 1966-1940 are buried in Graceland Cemetery, Chicago.

1900 Sterling "Lee Henderson loaded two double-deck cars of sheep last night for shipment to So. Omaha."

"Lee Henderson and family have entertained Mr. H.'s brother, Milt, who stopped off here for a brief visit en-route from Chicago to his home at Greeley."

William (Lee) Henderson in 1900 Sterling is a stock raiser, born June 1850 in Pennsylvania, with Emma March 1858 Indiana. They have John L. July 1880 Indiana, a railroad brakeman.

William claimed a quarter in 15, 7N 51W in 1891, and another in 14, 7N 51W in 1911.
>> My grandmother, Pearl Lucille HENDERSON, daughter of William Lee HENDERSON
>> and Rosland Virginia CLARK. My grandmother Pearl HENDERSON and her
>> brother John HENDERSON lived with a governess in Vinton, Benton Co., Iowa
>> in 1888, parents were divorced and Rosland was from Wappelo, Lousia Co.,
>> Iowa.
>> William Lee Henderson was from Sterling, Colorado and his family from Oil
>> Creek Twp., Crawford Co., PA. He had a brother John M HENDERSON who lived in
>> Denver, CO and was a controller at a large corp. in Chicago 1940's.
>> Do you know any thing about this branch of HENDERSON"S?
>> Thanks,
>> Diana of Borrego Springs, CA


Part 1.
Diary written by W.Lee Henderson
(His first trip to the ranch on the Platte
River,near what is now Sterling, Colorado, age 22)
Wednesday Oct 16th 1872
Got in from Greeley with Brushes team last night. Smith (cousin) and I started down the river this morning at ten oclock. It would do one good to see our load. Mart (brother Milton) shot a wild goose this morning just after we started. We will have goose to live on for a meal or two.
We have some bacon but I told Mart I wouldn't eat a bit of it. So I am all right for a day or two. Well we didn't stop for dinner as we crossed a shorter cut over the prairie of eighteen miles and in that time there was no place we could get water. We filled one tea pot before we left the river with water, but the horses was pretty dry before we got through. We camped near Fort Morgan on the river. First night I ever camped out without any cover. We boiled potatoes, cooked some bread in a bake kettle made some tea and fried some goose, but it didn't get cooked enough and it was tough, thats nothing after supper went to bed, made our bed under the wagon slept bully all night. Got up before sun rise and had to make a fire before Mart would get up. We left water in our water pail and there was ice froze in it a quarter of an inch thick. But day times it is so hot that we have to ride with our coats off, but as soon as the sun goes down it gets cold awful fast. Well we got breakfast we did, fried potatoes, boiled goose, tea and I shot a prairie chicken before breakfast, while I was after the horses. We picketed them out with a seventy five foot picket rope. So they can pasture a good deal. Pulled out about eight going to make Bruce Johnsons twenty five miles right through buffalo country. Didn't see a buffalo until we got within about three miles of Johnsons and then we saw a drove of seventy. They are the gol darndest looking things I ever saw. When they run they lope along like I don't know what. Their legs are shorter than a cow. When the move thay have their head down and thair tail stuck straight up with a curl on the end. Well when we got down within a mile of Johnsons we saw eight bulls coming on the lope from the river to the bluffs they would have to go across the road ahead of us, so we started up and trotted along and got up within a hundred yards of the bulls and stopped. They was going for all they was worth Mart up and whales away and down went the bull. I jumps out with Mits revolver and runs over within twelve feet of him and let him have a load right in the forhead. The ball glanced off and went whizing over the prarie never fazed the head, but before I could shoot again, the bull got up and took after me. Oh you aught to see me run. (He drew a sketch showing the bull and himself yelling "Oh Mart shoot him", then Mart in the wagon saying "Hurry up run or he will catch you.") The bull chased me clear to the wagon. Mart shot it in the fore sholder and soon as he learned to use one leg he could navagate pretty good. As soon as I clum the wagon he turned and skinned out for the bluffs. We didn't want that one. Glad to let it get away, you bet. Well we stayed all night at Johnsons cooked some bread in his stove for it would be the only chance to cook grub in a stove until we get one of our own. We arrived at
our destination after dark a little went right to bed. Under the wagon.


Part 2. Diary of William Lee Henderson. Now in Sterling Colorado,
Colorado. 1872

Got up Saturday morning and viewed my home for the first time, like the looks of it pretty well. I think the range is splended for cattle. Saw a hay camp across the river just opposite our place. It belongs to Curtis. I saw him up the river and he wanted some bolts for his mowing machine. So Mart and I got them and along about noon we went over took off our boots & pants and waded over found three splended fellows, got our dinner with them. Came back over the river in the afternoon cleaned our camp and went out on the bluffs to kill a buffalo and sure enough we did we both shot . I shot three buck shot out out of my shot gun & Mart shot the ballad riffle. There wasn't but one hole in the side of the buffalo, so Mart claimed the shot. I told him he could have it. It might have been me. Well we had to skin it and by that time it was sun down and a mile & a half in the bluffs. We went down and unloaded the wagon hitched up and started for our meat dark as thunder,
no moon. We drove out until we thought we was about far enough and stoped & went to looking. I guess we looked for an hour and gave it up and was going back without it I drove back about two hundred yards and run right on to it so we put the hind quarters in the wagon tied the skin on behind
the wagon and started for the big dipper. Got back at half past nine to the camp. There is nothing to guide a person but the sun moon stars & wind here on the prairie when a person gets off in the bluffs. It takes lots of practice to travel in the bluffs. I must tell you what I done. Up to Brushes camp the other day I went out with Mit to circle the cattle. Mit stoped to get some cattle & I went on I got away out about twelve miles from the river and found about one hundred head of cattle so I starts them as I supposed towards the river. I was driving along as big as you please, happened to look around and here came Mit lickety cut he wanted to know where I was driving those cattle. I was driving right away from where I wanted to go. Sunday didn't get up until pretty late, got breakfast and about noon again we went over to Curtises got our dinner again, layed around and gassed until four o'clock and then we thought it was time for us to go home and told Curtises boys if they would come over we would give them one quarter of our buffalo. So they hitched up and
came over and got it. In the morning we started for Julesberg. Got a good early start this morning. The wind blew awful cold. Kept our over coats on all day. Good day to drive, drove about thirty five miles, slept with our clothes on for fear there might be some Indians around although we are passed the place where they cross the river. Got to Fort Sedgwick about three oclock, tuesday morning. There is lots of stuff left there, old stoves lots of them and wagons hubs gone. We commenced getting our load. We spent the afternoon viewing the remains they are worth seeing, only abandoned a year & a half ago and the walls are not very badley delapidated. Their drill room or gallery must have been nice the walls were all painted & covered with pictures I mean pictures painted on the
plaster. Next day commenced loading. Got three pieces 2 x 8 - 20 long one telegraph pole six pieces 2 x 10 - 12 long and a few boards two window frames one door frame nice ones. A stove that will do, not very good broken some, two axes one shovel, sythe & swath and a few other trinkets. just might - there was a big outfit of ox wagons & a drove of cattle from Kansas camped at the Fort they are bound for Montana they are going up the Platte right past our place. So Mart and I fixes up one of these great big government wagons or freight wagons that will hold up all six or eight yoke of oxen can pull and gave the outfit three dollars to haul it up fifty miles to our place.

> From Diana M. Cronhardt, great grandaughter of William Lee Henderson born
in Oil Creek Twp, Crawford Co., PA.

William Lee Henderson's Diary 1872 No.3

Cheap wagon just the thing to haul wood on by the way we have to haul our wood twenty five miles when we get to living down here. All ready to start in the morning for home. Got an early start made a good drive. Load isn't as heavy as we expected. Friday every thing goes along bully haven't had to unload yet for the sand. Got within ten miles of home we saw something about three miles ahead that looked very quear to us. We kept squinting and looking, the more we looked the more we wanted to
look. At last we got near enough to see horses feeding and see five of something we stoped. Indians sure, five lodges or tepes seven indians usually in a lodge five times seven is thirty five, heaps Indians. No other way but what we would have to go right past their lodges. So on we goes. Got within a quarter of a mile of them we saw four or five indians run out and larriette a horse a piece. When we saw them catching horses we thought well maybe you will be in the same fix some time yourself and then you may know how we felt but there wasn't but two that started towards us. They came just as fast as their horses could run came up within speaking distance and says how and made a motion for us to stop and shake hands. We did then one of them pulled an old newspaper out from
under his blanket and unfolded it and gave us a written pass from an Indian agent stating that these indians ment no harm, give them somthing to eat use them well, but above all things give them no spirits of any kind but the worst of it was the paper was dated sixty one. (1861) It was an old pass or else the agent was awful careless in making it out. It was Red Child that had the paper one of the chiefs. When we read the paper, the chief says "good" and took the paper and put it away and then he wanted something to eat and then swap pony for two pistols. We didn't have any to swap just then just as he was going away he said, "Heap Sioux" and pointed up the road. We thought that that was somthing quear but on we went and soon found out what it meant there was a place ahead where the bluffs run in most to the river and as soon as we got around the point we did see heap Sioux sure enough for in the next bottom there was seventy five lodges and about four hundred ponys. Nice thing to be in the road well we got past those five lodges all right but seventy five was more than we bargained for. Now you bet we hatched up some quear things. We pictured that those five lodges was a blind to get us to go on and when we would get into the big town we would be gobbled shure. But we
had went too far to back out so on we went. Next chief that came out was Paunee Killer he to had a paper about the same thing in it as was in the other but the date was all right and signed by Washburn the agent at Laramy. While we was standing the indians was all over the wagon locking at every thing we had, some cold boiled potatoes in a kettle setting in the wagon. They would make motion with their hand to their mouth and then at the cold potatoes. I noded my head and you ought to see them go for them. Then I guess there was a dozen of them on the wagon and they all had a potatoe chawing away.It was a comical sight. We got out of that as soon as possible, came up to camp that night and crossed the river with the horses to Curtises camp thought the horses would be safer & we too.
Thus endith the lucky or unlucky Friday first Indians I have seen since I came out here & pretty heavy doce. Saturday morning we went over and got the wagon and our grub and had scarcely got across when the indians commenced chasing buffalo in every direction it was interesting to see them ride after them they are splended riders nice ponies. About one half of them went over on to the Republican river today. Sunday we hadn't got our breakfast when the Indians came in full force with the interpriter a half breed hired by the government at twelve hundred dollars a year. They stayed all the forenoon the were just right on the swap they would give anything for caps powder and led. I got a pair of mockisins for fifteen rifle balls a string of beads for a five cent box of matches & Mart traded his revolver for a smaller one and a buffalo robe very large one worth about fifteen dollars, his revolver that he traded wasn't worth over eight, but the idea was with the indian was to get a larger revolver to shoot buffalo with. We ask the interpreter if we could go down to the
camp. He said yes we come up to white mans camp you come down to ours nead not be afraid so after dinner there was five of us went down and went all through their lodges. The first lodge I went in they wanted to swap bow and six arrows and a revolver for Mits revolver that I had on my belt so I swaped and got a splendid scabbard all worked with beads and a bow and six nice arrows. As soon as I got out to the light I found that the barrel of the revolver was bursted then I was sold sure. Next lodge I went into they were playing cards. I guess there was a dozen setting all around in a circle and they had a large clay pipe great long stem so the pipe would reach the ground when the were smoking it. One indian would take a puff or two and then pass it to the next one. I came out before it got around where I was standing. The smoke kinacanic the smoke has a great deal better smell than tobacco. Next lodge I came to was a larger one than common. There was a real old indian and squaw they were both grey headed and two young indians & their squaws & two or three pappooses. When I went in the old squaw met me and shook hands and motioned me to the old man, he seemed awful tickled to have me shake hands with him, he was laying down. When I had shaken hands with the old man I went to the young squaws, they looked up as comical and laughed when they was shaking hands and then they would talk to each other and laugh. They were pretty for squaws. They were working at bead work of
some kind. I had that lap robe on my arm that father got for me and that was very showey. The squaws would take it and put it around each other with the collored side out and talk and blab about it. When they got through they gave it back all folded up nice and says "Good, nic" ny thing that is collored red takes first rate with them. Next lodge they were busy painting skins & strings they use dry paint they have yellow green and purple & all in the flour every lodge I went in before I got in
at the little cubby hole would be "how how" three or four times, have to crawl in on your hands and nees. One lodge I was coming out just as a big indian was coming in we cracked our heads togeather, it made me see stars you bet. The indian put his hand up to his head and laughed and grunted.
Next lodge there was a lot of young Indian squaws laughing & talking. Before I got farely in one young Indian says "Swap pistol" he came and took mine out of my belt and gave me his I examined his and found all that the matter was there was a catch gone that held the ram rod in place. He was looking at mine pretty soon he got through he says "swap" I held up one finger meaning I wanted one dollar to boot and pointed to the catch that was gone he shook his head. So I says "I swap", he was awful tickled,he didn't notice the barrel of the pistol of the pistol bit sharper than I did. So I have a better revolver for Mit than the one he gave me and bow and arrows besides the Indian value what I got at fifteen dollars in money. The way they say fifteen is they hold up both hands close them drop one and open the other. Their tents are made very quear they have a lot of long slim poles about fifteen in one lodge fastened togeather at the top andd the bottem spread out in a circle of about fifteen feet in diameter and then these poles are covered with canvas or taned buffalo skins all sowed togeather with sinew with the hair side in. Some have canvas that the government furnishes these tents run up to peak and on top some times there is a little pole stuck up with a flag or
streamer of some kind fastened to the top. I should think the tents are twenty feet high, just in the shape of a cone, right in the center of the lodge is a pole stuck up slanting and to the top a cord or piece of leather is fastened and to the other end a camp kittle hangs close to the ground and in that they cook buffalo meat or any thing they have to eat. All close to the canvas they have their beds and trinkets they lay in a circle with their feet to the fire. They have lots of blankets and clothes. They have coats & pants along that the card that has the size & number on isn't off yet they want to swap them for whisky but they didn't get a bit on the platte river. They wont wear anything that binds them or fits close such as pants they wont wear them no how, in their place they
cut blankets up and sow them up loose boy fashion and fasten it to a piece they have around their loins and throw a blanket or buffalo over their shoulders and then they are dressed. some of them wears flannel shirts that is isued to them but they would rather swap them than wear them. Brass or any thing thing that is of that nature takes well some of them have got large brass wire rope around their wrists and fingers a great many have porcupine quils all fastened togeather with strings and
they have them fastened to their breasts and then they have great strings of beads hanging around their necks. I got a string of them, ear rings of every description, great brass rings three inches in diameter and then right on top of the head they have a large brass button fastened in a braid of their hare that runs from the forehead clear back their own hair. They all have long black hair and instead of letting it hang loose they braid strips of red flanel around it and let it hang down over each shoulder. They paint their face with red and green paint and along where the hair parts on the top of the head they paint red. I dont think any one would mistake one for white man. Thus endith Sunday.

No.4 next

Sent by Diana M. Cronhardt, great grandaughter of W.Lee Henderson of Oil
Creek Twp, Crawford Co, PA.


Let us go back a few years and see what this section of Colorado looked like in the early seventies, shortly after the termination of the Civil War. It has not been so very long, and indeed, it is hard to realize that at this time this region was inhabited by only buffaloes, Indians and one or two white men.
It will be recalled that W.L.(Lee) Henderson was the second man to settle in what is now Logan County. He followed closely on the heels of "Uncle Billy" Hatfield, who has the distinction of being the first man to settle and own a piece of land here. No pioneer had more thrilling experiences on the Colorado plains than did Lee Henderson. He is now eighty-four years of age and lives at 630 Ocean Blvd., Huntington Beach, California, and tells some interesting happenings of the early days.
I was born on the 18th day of June 1850, and have just finished a happy contented and satisfied 84th year of my life that had its beginning at Titusville, Penn., nine years before Colonel Drake drilled the first oil well near our home in 1859. Two of my school mates were Ida Tarbel, noted writer, and John D. Archibald former president of the Standard Oil Co.
I graduated from High School, and from Eastman's National Business College at Poughkeepsie, New York. Here I enjoyed many thrills on the Hudson River "ice boats", also visiting the Vassar College girls, keeping in touch as to how they were getting along with their studies.
In the spring of 1872, I came to Greeley, Colo. and joined my brother Milt. Henderson, and M.H. Smith, a cousin, who had come west with the Greeley Colony. They had a bunch of cattle on the range at Freemont's Orchard and had arranged to put up wild hay along the river on land owned by J.B. Kempton. Kempton's wife was the daughter of Elbridge Gerry. It was at this home where I listened to many awe inspiring tales of Colorado's earliest history.
In the years of 1860 to 1870 when there were ever present bands of hostile Indians roving about, imagine the nervious strain on a mother left alone at an early settler's home while the husband was absent on business. Sometimes her imagination at night would cause her to take the children away from the home and hide them until morning for fear the Indians would set fire to the home.
(My grandmother, Pearl Henderson, told me this is what her mother, Rosalind Clark Henderson, did. She hid, with Pearl and John in the rushes along the Platte River.)
In the spring of 1873, the boys arranged with Jared L. Brush of Greeley to handle their cattle with his herd, and with his foreman, S.S. Kampton, we moved the cattle down the Platte River on the south side and located opposite where Illif now stands. We three boys selected homestead filings at Valley Station, opposite Sterling, that my brother was holding under a "squatter's" right before being seconized by the government survey. We built our home, improvements, corrals, etc. of wild grass sod found in low places along the river, and here we lived a ranch life which was filled with many interesting experiences. A few still remain in memory.
I remember we caught a little buffalo calf and raised it with our dairy cows. A band of renegade Indians saw it and killed it with arrows, and informed us it was "their cattle". We did not protest. You know they claimed all the buffalo as their property.
The boys were just as full of pranks in those days as they are now, whether you believe it or not. Right across the river from us lived Mrs. David Leavitt and pretty daughter Minnie. We were all quite friendly with the girls and her ---. One day they decided to take a trip to Greely, to be gone sometime. Minnie put her kitten in a sack and brought it over for us to care for it. While waiding the river the sack and cat fell into the channel. When it reached us it was not very pretty, but we promised to wash the "dough" out of its hair, and care for it until they returned from Greeley. The boys tired of their job. So one morning at the breakfast table one of the gang grabbed a Winchester rifle and the cat and said he was going to shoot it, not meaning to do so, however. We followed him out to see it done. He sat the cat on a little mound, shot, and missed. One of the boys 'guyed'him and said; "I can hit it." He took the gun and hit it, and when the girl and mother returned from Greeley they no longer numbered among their friends.
One of the saddest experiences for us was when Spenser Gunn, husband of the late Nannie Gunn, was thrown from his horse, resulting in his death. Mrs. Gunn was a fine woman, and was a real mother to all of the early cow boys. In 1876, Mrs. Gunn relates some amusing happenings in her writing as to what the settlers did, among them I find the James A. Gragg family, having about seven children, heard noises in the river one night, and thinking the Indians were close, hitched up their horses, gathered up the children, and started to a near neighbor. They had to cross the old railroad grade (which was later abandoned), and in bumping over the grade they lost one of the children and did not know it. He was too busy telling his wife "she should thank God she had so brave a husband to care for her." The lost child was plucky and ran after the wagon crying. The din and noise made by the wagon, the parents mistook the little fellow's cry for Indians and drove the faster. Needless to say, they later drove back for the child.
Our ranch at times would be a meeting place for twenty miles around for the young people to dance. There are four of the girls still living, but they do not dance now. Movie pictures were not necessary at that time for pleasure.
The fall of 1874 thousands of buffaloes on the south side of the river grazed all of the grass from the range, and we were obliged to move our herd to a better range.
During the winter of 1875-76 there was a three day blizzard from the northwest which drove the cattle from the Wyoming ranges to the river by the thousands, including the local range cattle. Many cattle fell from high broken banks walking out on the drifted snow; the same thing occurred where
the snow would drift over the running water at the river. Oh, it was terrible to see the dead cattle when the ice and snow melted in the spring. This same winter there was a steady cold wind for ten days and it drove the cattle from Denver ranges down the river, and as they trailed through the crusted snow
their hair was cut off by the ice. There they stood, refusing to move on account of the pain it would cause. The little calves that could not keep up were left helpless on the trail. In the spring, a number of the weak cattle would go to drink and their feet would get stuck in the deep mud holes and
would be unable to get out. We would rope them and tie the rope on to the horn of the saddle and pull them out, and if they could not then stand up, we ended their suffering either by shooting or cutting the spinal cord where the neck and head join with a long blade knife. It is unpleasant to write the conditions that existed on the open range.
Each spring-generally in June-after the green grass came and the cattle had shed the old hair so that the brands could be seen, the roundup would start with the camp wagons, meeting at a central point to bring stray cattle back to the home range. I was selected to go with the Nebraska roundup, given the right to gather many different brands belonging in Colorado. Before leaving my home camp wagon I unbuckled my cartridge belt with revolver and threw it into the grub wagon and told the cook to keep it until I came for it. The boys who were resting in the shade of the wagon, thought I was foolish and said, "You might need it." A couboy representing some Wyoming brands bunked with me. All went well with us as strangers in a strange land until we rounded up an isolated cow camp where there cows I was gathering.
My turn came to cut cattle from the herd and as I turned them out, the ranchman turned them back. I protested, and he called me every name but a nice one and told me to go and arm myself. I told him I was gathering cattle, and I got the cattle by appealing to the roundup boss. I told my trouble to my "Bunky", and he said, "I would have loaned you my gun." Not long after this, one morning I noticed Bunky and a cowboy ride away from us, arguing about something. I never knew the trouble. At the same moment they shot at each other, sitting on their horses. I saw Bunky fall and I rode up to him; as I raised his head, the man with the smoking revolver shouted, "Let him alone, I want to know if I got him." Bunky answered "Yes." As he rode away he said for me to take the man. When the roundup was over for the day, the boys rolled him up in his blanket and buried him. I took charge of his horse and saddle until a Wyoming sheriff came and took them. He ask me a few questions and said, "That is all of it.."
The large unbranded calves, not with their mothers, were called "mavericks" They were killed for meat on the roundup camps, and others would be branded the same brand for the benifit of the owner of range where found. The old saying: "If you want to eat your own meat, go to your neighbor's", there is nothing to it. The stockmen and owners of cattle respect their neighbor's brands almost entirely. However, I knew of one small owner that wanted more. He tied a branding iron to his saddle and when he saw an unbranded yearling, he would heat the iron in a chip fire, catch the yearling, tie it down and brand it. He branded thirteen in one season. Great droves of Texas cattle were driven north to Montana ranges; they would lose a few head of "dogies". We kept two steers with the bunch for a year and then shipped them with our stock to Chicago. I went with the shipment, and with the proceeds I purchased a gold link watch chain for each of us. I still have mine and the links are so worn that they separate, and it is now a "souvenir."
In those days we had no inspector to bother like they do now. The cattle were shipped to Chicago as there were no Omaha yards at that time. I made several trips in charge of the stock. The cattle were always fed and rested before reaching Chicago, and were always in nice condition when sold. We did
the best we could.
And now for the past ten years, wife and I have lived in California with environments that are restful and pleasant, watching the traffic go by on the ocean boulevard which is the longest in the world, extending from Vancouver on the north to Cape Horn on the south, and as evening comes we sit on the
sunporch and think the man is mad who never dreams of twilight splendor, for no artist yet has conquered such varigated streams that the sun's rays bestow upon the clouds.
Written and signed by an old timer-1872 to 1934 of Sterling, Colo.
Mr. W.L. Henderson now of California. Age 84 years.

Thank you.

WILLIAM  LEE HENDERSON(William3, Samuel2, James1); born 18 June 1850; married (first) Rosaline Virginia Clark, born circa 1856 in Iowa. William married (second) Emma [—?—], born March 1858 in Iowa. In 1880, William, Rose and family were in Greeley, Colorado, where William was enumerated as a stock raiser. In 1900 and 1910 William, second wife Emma and family were living in North Logan, Logan County, Colorado, where William was still in the stock raising business. In 1930, William and Emma and cousin Fred M. Smith, born circa 1899 in Colorado, were in Sterling, Logan County, Colorado.229
Also with William and Emma in 1900 and 1910 were three daughters of Emma and first husband [—?—] Brown: Ella Brown, born July 1880 in Indiana; Jessie L. Brown, born December 1881 in Indiana; and Arbo Brown, born February 1884 in Missouri.230
Children of William L. and first wife Rose:
  i.  Pearl Henderson; born circa 1877 in Colorado, married William Ernest Williams, born circa 1878 in Mississippi;231 their daughter Helen Margaret Williams, born circa 1905 in Ohio, married Donald A. Robb, born circa 1904 in Michigan,232 and had daughter Diana (Robb) Cronhardt, who found the will of James Henderson (#1), provided the maiden name of James Henderson's wife Sarah (Park), and generously shared photos and other Henderson information 


John eventually became a barber; the family lived in Ellis County, Kansas in 1920 and in Greeley, Colorado in 1930.
Children known from the federal censuses were
(a) Evelyn Henderson, born circa 1912 in Kansas.
(b) John G. Henderson, born (private) in Kansas.

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