Knoxville journal. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1874-1986, 1875-01-07

cities of this Territory and Arizona, who
lived in them, how strong these feeble
communities were once, how disaster
fell upon them, how of yore the Spaniards
conquered them, and how the Mexicans
defraud and prosecute them.
A penchant for the artistic has been
theirs since antiquity, and many basait
bluff is covered with the tracery OF the
stylus. Near Santa Fe is found one of
these picture galleries, long drawn out
for miles, teeming with hieroglyphIc
mysticism. Confusion and medley and
multitude of ornament fresco this cliff.
There are symbolic circles, squares and
fret-work, and symbols spiral and inter-
twined, entangled and interviewer like
monOgrams. Turtles, lizards, and all
manner of creeping things, real and
imaginary, are sKetched with the rude
hand and crude knowledge OF form
which characterize the tyro in drawing.
Snakes with sunfiower heads and volum-
nous tails wriggle and squirm through
this animated nightmare. There are
birds like pterodactyls, and beasts with
jaws of ichthyosaurus; ROSTERS, cOu-
chant, rampant and volant; frogs dane
the fOre-paws uplifted so beseechingly
that you can almost see the tears in
their eyes. Cold-blooded and repulsive
animals are predominant, although on
one slab an elk, with antlers proud and
erect, rules the scene. None of the figures
are handsome some of them look as if
the devil himself had sat for portrait,
and the artist was no flatterer, or else had
a spite at his majesty.
Upon the summit of Mount Taylor, or,
in Mexican phraseology, Mount San
Mateo, has been found the Indians
with trails climbing to it from all direc.
sembling throngs file up. In place of
deposit are miniature bows and arrows,
fragments Of wood and bits Of cloth and
stone, probably certificates with which
the different peoples tailed present"
Mount Taylor is known to be temple
and tabernacle of the Pueblo Indians,
where they go to worship the great
Montezuma, the prophet of the sun. TIC
him they are still loyal in their hearts,
and testify their devotion by the occa-
sional slaughter of priest.
All of these Indian towns are archi-
tecturally similar and of the same pat
tern as the Mexican plazas. The peoples
who live there differ only in cleanliness
of habit and costume of body. Laguna
bears the palm in civilization and friend
Illness to the Americans. This goodwill
may, perhaps, be traced to the benevO-
lent influence of the American teacher
there, whose home is constantly
thronged with his pupils of all ages, with
whom he is on the most pleasant and
affectionate terms. If all Indian agents
watched over their charges with care
as paternal and thoughtful we would be
shocked less often by news of Indian
outrages. The Governors and other
officials of the tribes are elected at
stated periods by the people from among
the people. They wear no badge of
office, nor do they encompass themselves
with the pomp and circumstance of
glory. When Cincinnatus was called to
honor ne left the pillow in the furrow;
when these are summoned to be rulers
they stick to the farm and the loom and
continue their vocations.
Millinery is at discount in this re
gion. Women wear nothing of head
dress except their wealth of hair, and
rustic costume which is very pictur
esque. Occasionally you see one at a
distance who appears to be covered with
an uncouth yellow plug hat, but it is
water-ja which she is carrying from
the well. In this habit of bare heads
they differ from their neighbors, the
Mexican danes, who, as If it were not
somberness enough to attire themselves
perpetually in black, muffle the head in
a shawl of the same color, and appear
to be the most circumspect and
pious females, retiring-penitential nuns,
while in fact they are quite the reverse.
The light and airy summer style for
gentlemen in the Pueblos consists of q
straw hat, long shirt and thin moccasins
Do the people of New York and Chi
cago realize that the shattered marble
of their palaces will one day be raked
over by the curious hand of some ex.
plorer from far and living country?
This is, indeed, an old, old land. In
one place the entire valley of river has
become deserted and depopulated
because the stream, by successive
foods, has washed the farms OF fertile
soil away There is a fallen castle of
stone whose grated windows hint of dun
geons and inquisitorial torrents Of
the massive masonry of that old fOrtI ess,
Pueblo Pintado, the Painted Palace, or
Pueblo Bonito, the Beautiful Palace, ris-
ing story over story, and spreading
through room and corridor and hall, in
all the amplitude of palace; of the
silent city high up on the mesa, between
the canons Of San Diego and Guadalupe,
whose former dwellings were defended
against the Spaniards by natural walls
1000 feet high; of the picture of st.
Guadalupe, painted by some unknown
artist In some unknown time, high up on
the vertical ledge of the mesa Of the
same name, portrait on whose holy
lineaments no other Caucasian has ever
been privileged to gaze, and of the dim
and dusky sanctuary, without window,
door or other aperture save narrow
hatchway in the roof, which is sacred to
the rites of Montezuma worship, on
whose altar the holy fire is perpetual
who now lives to tell the story of all