However, since their discovery their numbers have
greatly diminished and steadily continue to decrease, as if it
were also to be their fate to become extinct like the ancient
cliff dwellers.
The Moqui Pueblos are well protected by natural barriers upon all
sides except towards the south. Perched upon their high mesas
the people have been safe from every attack of an enemy, but
their fields and flocks in the valley below were defenseless.
The top of the several mesas can only be reached by ascending
steep and difficult trails which are hard to climb but easy to
defend. The paths on the mesas have been cut deep into the hard
rock, which were worn by the soft tread of moccasined feet during
centuries of travel, numbering, perhaps, several times the four
hundred years that are known to history.
The houses are built of stone and mortar, and rise in terraces
from one to five stories high, back from a street or court to a
sheer wall. Some of the remodeled and newly built houses have
modern doors and windows. The upper stories are reached from the
outside by ladders and stone stairways built into the walls. The
rooms are smoothly plastered and whitewashed and the houses are
kept tidy and clean, but the streets are dirty and unsanitary.
In these sky cities the Moquis live a retired life that is well
suited to their quiet dispositions, love of home life and
tireless industry. The men are kind, the women virtuous and the
children obedient. Indeed, the children are unusually well
behaved. They seldom quarrel or cry, and a spoiled child cannot
be found among them. The Moquis love peace, and never fight
among themselves. If a dispute occurs it is submitted to a peace
council of old men, whose decision is final and obeyed without a
murmur.
They are shy and suspicious of strangers, but if addressed by the
magic word lolomi, their reserve is instantly gone. It is the
open sesame to their hearts and homes, and after that the house
contains nothing too good to bestow upon the welcome guest. They
are true children of nature, and have not yet become corrupted by
the vices of white civilization. The worst thing they do is that
the men smoke tobacco.
Their industries are few, but afford sufficient income to provide
for their modest needs. They are primarily tillers of the soil,
and as agriculturists succeed under circumstances that would
wholly baffle and discourage an eastern farmer. Several years
ago a man was sent out from Washington to teach the Moquis
agriculture, but before a year had passed the teacher had to buy
corn from the Indians. They make baskets and pottery, weave
cloth and dress skins for their own use and to barter in trade
with their neighbors.
