hold religious meetings in caves in the vicinity of their settlements. On being asked to decipher an hieroglyphical inscription some fifteen miles southeast from their villages, a copy of which was shown them, they appeared unable to do so, replying, "No sabe." The belief is well entertained, however, that they were acquainted with the inscription, and knew its hidden meaning, since there were found in the house of one of the chiefs figures carved in wood which corresponded exactly to some of those employed in the inscription. If these were designed as objects of worship, no profound veneration was manifested for them, since they were readily parted with for a trifling quantity of tobacco.
The exact date at which this singular people settled in Northeastern Arizona, and built their habitations on massive rocks, whose foundations are far beneath the level of the sandy plain which surrounds them, is a question still enveloped in mystery. Taking into consideration the fact that the space between the several villages on one of the mesas is solid rock, and that across this space a path has been worn by human feet to a depth of several inches, and remembering that the shoes of the people who have trod out this stony pathway have been of the softest leather, it is not unreasonable to assume that at least a thousand years have elapsed since this tribe first made its appearance in this bleak and uninviting section of the Western World.
While our visit to the Moquis resulted in much valuable information concerning this remnant of a race fast disappearing from the face of the earth, we were otherwise well repaid for the hardships we had encountered in reaching this isolated spot, and shall not soon forget the pleasant hours spent in the company of these half-civilized beings. As evening drew near, sitting on the tops of the lofty mesas, our fevered brows were gently fanned by cooling breezes, which soon caused us to forget the tropical heat of the day, while our eyes were feasted by a sunset seldom equaled in grandeur and sublimity. The sinking sun produced a golden hue around the summits of the far-distant Sierra de San Francisco, while its light, reflected along the horizon, transformed the sky into an ocean of blood. It was long after nightfall ere wearied nature sought repose; but, at last, we retired to rest, with naught but rock for our pillow, and with no roof above us save the blue canopy of Nature, which seemed more than ever fretted with twinkling stars.
