Long known to historians of colonial New Mexico is the name of José López Naranjo. In the years after 1700, he played a key role in defending the province from hostile Indians.

Details of his career are thin, but the scraps of information we do have suggest that he was a multitalented individual.

The late Fray Angelico Chavez indicated that José's father was Domingo Naranjo, an Indian from Mexico, probably an Aztec or Tlaxcalan. The mother is not identified, but Fray Angelico said that records classify José as a lobo, or person of mixed ancestry.

Oddly, writers of history have usually identified Naranjo as a native of Santa Clara Pueblo, perhaps because that surname is not uncommon there. In fact, his residence as early as 1696 was in the newly established town of Santa Cruz de la Cañada, a short distance east of Santa Clara.

Not long ago, while visiting Belen, I met his direct descendant, Orlando A. Naranjo. He's an ardent genealogist and generously shared with me data from his family tree.

They way he expressed it, José López Naranjo was predominantly Indian, but "he led the life of a Spaniard among Spaniards." Dr. Rick Hendricks of Las Cruces has said of José Naranjo something similar. "He looked and acted the part (of a Spaniard)."

What we seem to have here is an Indian who successfully assimilated into Hispano culture. We know that happened fairly often in the 18th century. The remarkable thing in this case is the list of achievements compiled by José Naranjo.

In late March of 1704, he is listed as a capitán mayor de guerra, that is, war captain and chief of scouts for a body of 120 Pueblo auxiliaries, or Indian militia. They had been called up by Gov. Diego de Vargas to accompany his troops on an expedition against Apaches in the Sandia Mountains.

Naranjo with 30 Pueblos was detached and sent ahead to scout the Apache position. They fought a brief skirmish, but then withdrew upon receiving word that Vargas was seriously ill. The governor died at Bernalillo on April 8, 1704.

Thereafter, José Naranjo would play a similar role in at least five large-scale expeditions against hostile Indians. Rather quickly, the viceroy in Mexico City confirmed his formal appointment as capitán mayor de guerra, a measure of the value the central government placed on his service.

When in the field, Naranjo was called upon as a guide to select the travel routes and appeared always to know where water and grazing for the horses could be found.

Further, he was much in demand as an interpreter. Besides Spanish, he spoke several Pueblo languages and was said to be well-versed in the he Apache tongue. How he acquired these useful skills remains a mystery.

Withal Naranjo was illiterate, not then rare, even among army officers. Upon being summoned to Santa Fe in 1719 to give advice at a war council dealing with a proposal to punish raiding Utes, he did not sign the official copy of his testimony. Gov. Antonio Valverde certified that José did not know how.

The following year, the governor had alarming news that Frenchmen were on the Great Plains making alliances with the Indians and threatening New Mexico. He assembled an armed force and sent it out to investigate.

Lt. Gen. Pedro de Villasur commanded the troops that included 42 men from the Santa Fe presidio, 70 Pueblo Indian auxiliaries under Naranjo, three private citizens and an army chaplain, Fray Juan Minguez.

Another participant was Juan de Archibeque, a survivor of the ill-fated French colonizing venture under La Salle. He went along to serve as interpreter should any of his fellow countrymen be encountered.

Naranjo and Archibeque had served together on previous expeditions and were probably good friends.

This expedition struck out in a northeasterly direction. In a matter of weeks, it reached the Platte River in Nebraska.

Downstream, Villasur went into camp amid thick grass. Nearby was a village of Pawnees, rumored to have several Frenchmen in it, trading weapons to the Indians.

Near dawn, Naranjo's Pueblo sentinels were surprised as a whooping horde of Pawnee warriors rushed the encampment. Commander Villasur and José Naranjo were killed in the first wave. Then the leaderless army was engulfed and shattered. Archibeque and Father Minguez perished as did 33 presidial soldiers and 11 Pueblo allies. It was an out-and-out disaster.

When José López died on the banks of the far away Platte, he was approximately 44 years old. The hardy frontiersman left behind a wife, Catalina, and at least one son, José Antonio.

What he did not leave was a dictated memoir of his adventurous life, during which he gave loyal and unwavering support to the Spanish cause.

Historian Marc Simmons is author of numerous books on New Mexico and the Southwest. His column appears Saturdays.