The story of this Indian did not convince the friar that what he heard about the grandeur of these seven cities was all true, and he decided not to believe anything until he had seen it for himself, or had at least received additional proof. The friar did not start immediately for the seven cities, as the negro had advised him to do, but waited until he could see the Indians who had been summoned from the seacoast. These told him about pearls, which were found near their homes. Some “painted” Indians, living to the eastward, having their faces, chests, and arms tattooed or decorated with pigments, who were perhaps the Pima or Sobaipuri Indians, also visited him while he was staying at Vacapa and gave him an extended account of the seven cities, very similar to that of the Indian sent by Estevan. p357

XLI. Map of the World by Ptolemy, 1548 [◊]

Friar Marcos started on the second day following Pascua Florida, or Easter, which came on April 6, 1539. He expected to find Estevan waiting at the village where he had first heard about the cities. A second cross, as big as the first, had been received from the negro, and the messengers who brought this gave a fuller and much more specific account of the cities, agreeing in every respect with what had previously been related. When the friar reached the village where the negro had obtained the first information about the cities, he secured many new details. He was told that it was thirty days’ journey from this village to the city of Cibola, which was the first of the seven. Not one person alone, but many, described the houses very particularly and showed him the way in which they were built, just as the messengers had done. Besides these seven cities, he learned that there were other kingdoms, called Marata, Acus, and Totonteac. The linguistic students, and especially Mr Frank Hamilton Cushing, have identified the first of these with Matyata or Makyata, a cluster of pueblos about the salt lakes southeast of Zuñi, which were in ruins when Alvarado saw them in 1540, although they appeared to have been despoiled not very long before. Acus is the Acoma pueblo and Totonteac was in all probability the province of Tusayan, northwestward from Zuñi. The friar asked these people why they went so far away from their homes, and was told that they went to get turquoises and cow skins, besides other valuable things, of all of which he saw a considerable store in the village.

Friar Marcos tried to find out how these Indians bartered for the things they brought from the northern country, but all he could understand was that “with the sweat and service of their persons they went to the first city, which is called Cibola, and that they labored there by digging the earth and other services, and that for what they did they received turquoises and the skins of cows, such as those people had.” We now know, whatever Friar Marcos may have thought, that they doubtless obtained their turquoises by digging them out of the rocky ground in which they are still found in New Mexico, and this may easily have seemed to them perspiring labor. It is not clear just how they obtained the buffalo skins, although it was doubtless by barter. The friar noticed fine turquoises suspended in the ears and noses of many of the people whom he saw,[27] and he was again informed that the principal doorways of Cibola were ceremonially ornamented with designs made of these stones. Mr Cushing has since learned, through tradition, that this was their custom. The dress of these people of Cibola, including the belts of turquoises about the waist, as it was described to the friar, seemed to him to resemble that of the Bohemians, or gypsies. The cow skins, some of which were given to him, were tanned and finished so well that he thought it was evident that they had been prepared by men who were skilled in this work. p358

At this point in his narrative Friar Marcos first uses the word pueblo, village, in referring to the seven cities, a point which would be of some interest if only we could be sure that the report was written from notes made as he went along. He certainly implies that he kept some such record when he speaks of taking down the statements of the Indian who first told him about the seven cities. It looks as if the additional details which he was obtaining gradually dimmed his vision of cities comparable to those into which he had seen Pizarro gather the golden ransom of Atahualpa.

Friar Marcos had not heard from Estevan since leaving Vacapa, but the natives told him that the negro was advancing toward Cibola, and that he had been gone four or five days. The friar started at once to follow the negro, who had proceeded up Sonora valley, as Mr Bandelier traces the route. Estevan had planted several large crosses along the way, and soon began to send messengers to the friar, urging the latter to hasten, and promising to wait for him at the edge of the wilderness which lay between them and the country of Cibola. The friar followed as fast as he could, although constantly hindered by the natives, who were always ready to verify the stories he had already heard concerning Cibola. They pressed him to accept their offers of turquoises and of cow skins in spite of his persistent refusals. At one village, the lord of the place and his two brothers greeted the friar, having collars of turquoises about their necks, while the rest of the people were all encaconados, as they called it, with turquoises, which hung from their ears and noses. Here they supplied their visitor with deer, rabbits, and quail, besides a great abundance of corn and piñon seed. They also continued to offer him turquoises, skins, fine gourds, and other things which they valued. The Sobaipuri Indians, who were a branch of the Papago, among whom the friar was now traveling, according to Bandelier, seemed to be as well acquainted with Cibola as the natives of New Spain were with Mexico, or those of Peru with Cuzco. They had visited the place many times, and whatever they possessed which was made with any skill or neatness had been brought, so they told him, from that country.

Soon after he encountered these people, the friar met a native of Cibola. He was a well-favored man, rather old, and appeared to be much more intelligent than the natives of this valley or those of any of the districts through which the friar had passed in the course of his march. This man reported that the lord of Cibola lived and had his seat of government in one of the seven cities called Ahacus, and that he appointed men in the other cities who ruled for him. Ahacus is readily identified with Hawikuh, one of the present ruins near K’iapkwainakwin, or Ojo Caliente, about 15 miles southwest of Zuñi. On questioning this man closely, the friar learned that Cibola—by which, as Bandelier and Cushing maintain, the Indian meant the whole range occupied by the Zuñi people—was a large city, in which a great many p359 people dwelt and which had streets and open squares or plazas. In some parts of it there were very large houses, which were ten stories high, and the leading men met together in these on certain days of the year. Possibly this is one of the rare references in the accounts of these early visits to Zuñi, to the ceremonials of the Pueblo Indians, which have been studied and described with so much care by later visitors, notably by Mrs M. C. Stevenson and by Dr J. Walter Fewkes of the Hemenway Southwestern Archeological Expedition.

This native of Cibola verified all the reports which the friar had already heard. Marata, he said, had been greatly reduced by the lord of Cibola during recent wars. Totonteac was a much larger and richer place, while Acus was an independent kingdom and province. The strange thing about all these reports is not that they are true, and that we can identify them by what is now known concerning these Indians, but the hard thing to understand is how the Spanish friar could have comprehended so well what the natives must have tried to tell him. When one considers the difficulties of language, with all its technicalities, and of radically different conceptions of every phase of life and of thought, the result must be an increased confidence in the common sense and the inherent intelligence of mankind.

On his way up this valley of Sonora, Friar Marcos heard that the seacoast turned toward the west. Realizing the importance of this point, he says that he “went in search of it and saw clearly that it turns to the west in 35 degrees.” He was at the time between 31 and 3112 degrees north, just opposite the head of the Gulf of California. If Bandelier’s identification of the friar’s route is accepted—and it has a great deal more in its favor than any other that can be proposed with any due regard to the topography of the country—Friar Marcos was then near the head of San Pedro valley, distant 200 miles in a direct line from the coast, across a rough and barren country. Although the Franciscan superior testified to Marcos’ proficiency in the arts of the sea, the friar’s calculation was 312 degrees out of the way, at a latitude where the usual error in the contemporary accounts of expeditions is on the average a degree and a half. The direction of the coast line does change almost due west of where the friar then was, and he may have gone to some point among the mountains from which he could satisfy himself that the report of the Indians was reliable. There is a week or ten days, during this part of the journey, for which his narrative gives no specific reckoning. He traveled rather slowly at times, making frequent stops, so that the side trip is not necessary to fill this gap. The point is a curious one; but, in the absence of any details, it is hardly likely that the friar did more than secure from other Indians stories confirming what he had already been told.