--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Mason, Paul collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 23 number: 11 published: 1920-09 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Mason, Paul, "Social Leadership," *Improvement Era* 23, no. 11 (September 1920): 1008–1011.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera23011unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera23011unse start_page: 1008 end_page: 1011 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1920-09) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera23011unse publication_year: 1920 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1920, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Social Leadership Tsianina By Douglas Brian Two horsemen rode wearily on amid the blackness of the foreboding storm. The wind tugged at the manes of the ponies as they plodded along with heads bowed as in submission to the power of the coming tempest. Lightning flashed and the huge raindrops hissed as they fell upon the hot sand. Clouds of dust whirled before the wind as if trying to escape the flood which seemed so imminent. Two riders sat with eyes and thoughts far distant from each other. One sat with eyes alert and watchful for the shelter which he knew lay in the looming rocks ahead, while the other sat with eyes fixed on the desert, on the sand that seemed to pass beneath their feet; sat with drooping shoulders al'so; sat appalled amid the fury of the storm. Soon the horsemen stopped before the mouth of a darksome cavern. Dismounting, they led their weary horses into the shelter of the rocks and sat watching the mighty deluge before them through the opening. Presently the man of the downcast eyes and weary look was speaking to the other, and his voice was slow and soft and weary, and seemed as if 'twas meant to tell uncanny tales. "I can't stand this lightnin', man; it alius sets me thinkin', which is somethin' that'll drive me mad some day." Back he slumped against his saddle, which was lying on the ground, and his eyes flashed fire from the blazing anguish of his soul. "Seems to me this storm is passin' over," was the blunt, prosaic answer that he got. But the weary one kept speaking. "Alius brings me back to old Virginny 'mong the green hills, in the days when I was young. Makes me think about the time a storm was ragin' this way an' I was huddled up beside the fire in a cabin in the hills. The wind was shriekin' an' groanin' like as if it was bein' tortured, an' every few minutes a crack o' thunder 'ud fairly split the earth. "Well, sir, my back was to the door so I don't know just how it all happened, but all of a sudden the door crashed open an' I thought the whole storm was comin' in on top o' me. The light went out, an' it was some seconds before I could git the door shut an' a lamp burning agin. "Bein' a little nervous, I went right back to the fire place TSIANINA v 1013 an' tried to amuse myself by watchin' the sparks dance around as they was drawed up by the wind. After a while, durin' a lull in the storm, I thought I could hear somebody breathin' over by the door. "I was only a kid, an' I was gettin' some scared, an' did not dare to look around. A few minutes later I heard a soft foot an' somethin' as sounded like the door latch bein' lifted. I guess it was more curiosity than bravery caused me to do it, but I fairly jumped to that door!" A loud clap of thunder coming at this time, caused even our prosaic listener to pull his hat down closer over his eyes, and snuggle down by his saddle. "Well, sir, who should be standin' there ready to spring like a panther, but a little Indian girl. I could hardly believe my eyes, but there she stood, drippin' with rain, hair sodden down on 'er shoulders and one moccasin gone. Said she'd run from a heap bad man as 'ud been follerin' 'er." After the storm died down she went back to 'er camp an' I used to meet 'er in most unexpected places, and we'd run together over the hills an' chase squirrels an' all that sort of thing. "Sometimes, when I was alone in my cabin, I'd git to thinkin' about 'er, an' that Indian girl was as captivatin' as any American beauty you ever saw. "My folks had been dead for a long time, ail' I didn't know exactly what to think about the matter o' marryin' an Indian, so I asked Squire Cain, a man that lived in a big house down in the valley. "He told me it'd be awful to marry an Indian. Said it'd be a disgrace to my father's name, an' my children 'ud hate me for it. 'E said the Indians come from the Japs or somethin' like that, and that they was naturally heathens. "After that I tried to forgit the little girl, Tsianina was 'er name, but it was as if I'd have to have 'er some day. I couldn't endure thinkin' anything else. — — "But one day I'll never forget the day I come home an' found a chap waitin' to see me. Said 'e was a missionary, an' wanted to talk to me about religion. I wasn't much on religion, but before the evenin' was far along 'e had me askin' questions a mile a minute. "I asked 'im about Tsianina, and 'e read to me out of a book. Told me it was a book a boy prophet got out of a hill or somethin'. I didn't take much stock in that, but when 'e got started to read, it filled my soul plumb full o' hope. " 'E called the Indians Lamanites an' told me how they d come from good Christian people, an' how they'd went through lots o' hardships an' sufferin' to serve God. "Ri 1014 IMPROVEMENT ERA graced only in the minds o' such men as Mr. Cain, an' that as soon as mornin' came I could go to git the girl as 'ud make me happier than a world o' queens an' finery. "I could hardly wait for daylight, an' then I rushed out o' the cabin an' just about flew across the hills to 'er camp. "Goodness, man! I've wished more than once I'd dropped dead before I got there. Old Quanto, 'er father, met me at the door o' the teepee; old Quanto had more principle about 'im than half the preachers in America. I could see by 'is eye that there was somethin' wrong, an' finally 'e told me she was dyin'. "My head seemed to whirl off in space, an' everything went black for a while. Finally I rushed in an' saw 'er jist a few minutes before she died; saw 'er layin' there with 'er body mangled an' tore almost to pieces. "Thev told me how a ravin' devil had trapped 'er on a cliff an 'how she'd jumped to the rocks below to save 'er honor. 'Er last words was beggin' me to punish the hound as had ruined our lives. "I guess I'd gone mad if it hadn't 'a' been for that young missionary chap a-comin' back. 'E told me how she'd been in a spirit world ages before she come here. Asked me if I didn't think 'er friends there was grieved at losin' 'er,' knowin' she was to come down 'ere an' be tried by all sorts o' evils. 'E asked me if I didn't think they'd be happy at havin' 'er come back then, knowin' that she come out safely, even givin' 'er life to save 'er honor. 'E made me feel that my feelin's wasn't to be compared with those in the spirit world who'd knowed 'er for ages. Later 'e told me how as I could see 'er in the next world an' I was feelin' purty good about it when I got another hard blow. I'd worked a year to corner the one creature my soul thirbted to kill. At last I had lured him to a meetin' in the woods. Only a half a mile away 'e was waitin' for me where I could go an' relieve some o'the achin' in my heart. I could hardly wait to get to where 'e was. I sat by the fire, for it Was storming violent like, and pictured in my mind the way it'd be. "I'd go up to the meetin' place as cool as a cucumber, talk to 'im awhile, an' then come around to the story of mydusky sweetheart. Then I'd give 'im a chance for 'is life, which 'ud do him no good, 'cause I was too well prepared. I'd wait for the minute to come, draw my long, sharp knife an' —A loud rap come at my door. opened it an' the missionary come in. I I — — was afraid e'd stay too long I wanted to get away and I could hardly wait for the time. I talked to 'im of Tsianina, asked 'im what I'd have to do to git 'er in the other world, an' 'e told me many things, three of them I remember: 'Thou shalt not kill,' 'Love thy neighbor as thyself,' 'Return good for evil.' "I asked frantic questions about these things, and a feelin' came over me that what 'e said was true. Long I looked into TSIANINA 1015 the fire, an' my head swam 'round arid 'round. I must fight him. I must kill the man who wrecked my life an' hers. Then I saw my Indian maiden, saw her image in the fire, an' the young man still was speaking of the glory of the gospel. Gods, man, how my head was whirling, how my fingers itched for vengeance 'Is ! there no such thing as vengeance?' said I to the young man, curtly. 'Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord' was his only reply. "Then I kept on comin' westward, comin' farther all the time, and a storm like this one, pardner, makes me think o' them old days when I was but a boy, an' often wonder if she saw me when that young man put me underneath the water; wonder if she's waitin' there to see me when I go beyond the veil." Two men came from out a cavern in the rocks above a desert. One was broad and stout, prosaic, but the other seemed to sink his shoulders in an attitude of waiting as they rode off in the sunshine's brilliant rays that stole with steady radiance through disassembled clouds. Silently they rode toward the skyline till the desert swallowed up their tiny forms. Ogden, Utah. The M. I. A. Cause (Sung at the conference-convention of the Raft River stake, Almo, on Saturday, July 31, 1920. Tune: "Marching through Georgia.") We love the cause of M. I. A. 'Tis nearest to our hearts. And best of all we hold most dear The spirit it imparts. And may the coming season's work Reach every true aim sought, As we march on to perfection. Chorus Hurrah! hurrah; the season's work is here! Hurrah! hurrah! the best of all the year! We'll speak good words to all who come, And reach for others near, And all move onward to perfection. From golden youth to silvered age. We welcome one and all To aid in building up the souls Of those who thrive or fall. We'll render service to our flag And enter learning's hall, As we move onward to perfection. Ida L. Belnap