The Bewitched Cat Of The Catskills

The Bewitched Cat Of The Catskills

In the early days of our country many tales of witchcraft originated in the Catskill Mountain area of New York State.

For example, take the story about the cats of Spook Woods. Spook Woods deserved its name, for everyone knew that it was full of mystery. In fact, it was said that even dull witted cattle who wandered into the woods would suddenly rush away in panic at what they had encountered. Certainly horses often balked at taking the road which ran through Spook Woods. The local people usually managed to go through Spook Woods only in broad daylight and preferably with company.

A farmhand named Williams, the story goes, had been hired to work on a farm on the other side of the woods from his home. Williams had heard tales of Spook Woods, as who up that way hadn’t? But he was big, rugged and ordinarily fearless man who paid little attention to the tales of witches, spooks and supernatural happenings in the deep shadows.

However, one winter night as he returned home through the woods on foot, he did feel a certain uneasiness. Perhaps it was because of the full moon which cast odd shadows along the side of the dirt road, he reassured himself. But as he reached the center of the wooded stretch, he realized that one shadow was hurrying along ahead of him. This shadow was more than a trick of the moonlight, for it was moving quickly over the snow along the roadside.

As he hurried to pass it, he saw to his astonishment that the shadow was made by two cats who were dragging an obviously dead cat between them. What a strange way for animals to act, he thought, as he quickened his steps to pass them. Then, to his increasing horror, one of them called him by name. Startled as he was, he wouldn’t---he couldn’t---stop. The terrified man began to run, desperately anxious to get out of the woods as fast as possible.

The cats, slowed down by their burden, could not match his speed, but just as he was leaving the thick woods for the open country beyond, one of them screeched in a loud, clear and almost human voice, “Mr. Williams, oh, Mr. Williams, when you get home tell Molly Meyers that she can come home now, Old man Hawkins is dead.”

Terribly shaken by his experience, Mr. Williams raced on to the security of his home, but when he reached its warm, friendly atmosphere he hesitated to tell his harrowing experience. Later in the evening, when his family was sitting around the fireplace, he half jokingly told about it, and finally repeated the odd message one of the cats had cried out after him.

To everyone’s astonishment, the old white cat lying by the hearth sprang her feet, and without once looking back, leaped up the chimney right over the burning logs and was never seen again. Had Molly Meyers at last gone home?

Strangely Enough, by C. B. Colby, 1959, Sterling Publishing Co., pg. 80-81

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