140 THE TATU. 
At the head of Potter Valley there is a singular knoll of red earth 
which the Tatu believe to have furnished the material for the creation of the 
original coyote-man. They mix this red earth into their acorn bread, and 
employ it for painting their bodies on divers mystic occasions. I supposed 
at first that the mixing of this red earth in their bread was a ceremonial per- 
formance, but seeing it afterward done by other tribes I came to the con- 
clusion that the Indians spoke truthfully in saying that they did it merely 
to make the bread sweet, and make it go further. They have quarried out 
immense quantities of it from the knoll for these purposes. I visited it 
myself, and found that my worthy host spoke truly in saying that they have . 
taken out ‘hundreds of tons”. At any rate, I will venture the suggestion 
that they must have been living in the valley a thousand years, in order to 
have quarried out this quantity of earth for yeast and cosmetics alone. 
They are remarkable for their timidity. My host, Mr. Carner, related 
how a full-grown, vigorous Tatu in his employ was once frightened to 
death in broad daylight by a belligerent turkey-cock. The poor fellow had 
never seen that species of fowl before, when one day as he was walking 
through the yard the gobbler, being greatly blown out and enlarged in 
appearance, made a furious dash at him, and so frighte.ed him that he 
straightway took to his bed and expired in two days. Another one of the 
same tribe unwittingly trod in a bear-trap when hunting one day with a 
companion, whereupon he dropped all in a heap upon the ground, helpless 
and lifeless, with unspeakable terror, and died in his tracks in half an hour, 
though a subsequent examination revealed the fact that the steel trap had 
inflicted no mortal injury on him, and that he undoubtedly perished from 
fright. His comrade, instead of unclamping the trap, fled for his dear life, 
believing it was the devil they had encountered. 
Mr. Carner, himself a Christian who had labored zealously for their 
conversion, said he had often seen them engage in wordy quarrels, bicker- 
ing, and jangling, and jabbering strange, voluble oaths, until almost the 
whole village was involved, and until his own patience was entirely gone, 
but never once advance to blows. His Saxon blood once got the better of 
his religion, his indignation waxed hot, and he offered them clubs, and told 
them either to fight or be silent, but they did neither the one nor the other. 
