Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-04-26
In a Madman 5 Cave.

was riding leisurcly along over the
prairie one day, about three miles
southwest of Fort BerthoId, says a
writer in The st. Paul Pioneer Press,
when | saw, standing ahead of me
about two hundred yards, four In
dams. thought nothing of it, and
turned my head to look at deer that
was bounding in fright over a distant
hill. When 1 looked in the direction
in which I had seen the Indians there
was blank. Where could they have
gone? There was no butte behind
which they could possibly have hidden,
and not a gully was to be seen in
which they could have crept. [ Hooked
in every direction, and suddenly as
they disappeared they appeared again,
though for the life of me | could not
have told where they emerged from.
They arose as if they had sprung out
Of the ground, as did the soldiers that
grew from the dragons teeth which
Jason soWed.
went up to the band. They hap
pened to be tribe with whom | could
converse without difficulty, and asked
them where they had been while I was
looking. They pointed in reply to a
fiat stone that looked as much as any
thing like the side or end of massive
piece of sandstone. There was a crack
in the stone, il was true, but it was of
such a nature as to excite no suspicion.
One of the party pressed against the
stone, and it fell inward. It afforded
an opening large enough for a man to
creep through without any trouble. /
was invited to follow the leader of
the gang. [ dismounted, and, hand
ING the pony was riding to one of the
Indians, entered the strange retreat.
1t was q queer cave cut out of the hill.
There was a bench on which a man
could get a good nights rest if he were
sleepy, a number of holes cut in the
wall overhead looking like pigeon
holes, and, although there was a grimy
look to the walls, it was not an I'M
comfortable abode. There was heap
of bones in one corner, which | after
ward learned were the remains of
many feast of the owner of the hole
in the ground.
A Mandan Indian, who, unfortun-
ately for his piece of mind and social
standing, lost his scalp in battle sew
eral decades ago, constructed this
home here. He was disgraced by the
loss of his scalp, and never more could
live with his tribe or abide with his
squaw or little ones. Determined to
make as much as possible of what of
life he had remaining to him he hewed
place out Of the earth where he was
free from molestation. Here he lived
in mt
cure against billiards. and equally
protected against the heat of summer.
This unique specimen of 4 fast-dying
race was something of an artist.
Around on the rock of his lonely
abode he had carved a number of the
most primitive-appearing designs.
could not learn from my guide whether
or not it was probable that the artist
was accustomed to drinking the pc
culiar brand of whisky that years ago
the white man traded to the redskins
for pelts, but it was strange fact that
the artistic skill displayed appeared to
run to snakes. Representations of
snakes IN all attitudes adorned the
walls. In some cases they were re-
presented as swallowing a man, and
now a huge crawling monster would
have an expiring buffalo within its
coils. There were a dozen well-pre-
served impressions of snakes, all of
which represented monsters, and not
the small, harmless reptiles that are
found in this region.
My guide informed me that the
scalpless man depended for his artistic
ideas upon a legend of a huge serpent
that existed in this region, and which
legend has fed upon peculiar under
ground passage, tortuous and sinuous
in the extreme. which is pointed TO by
the natives rs being the former home
of a bad spirit in serpent form.