--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Thurber, Taylor collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 27 number: 9 published: 1924-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Taylor Thurber, “Waters of the Ticaboo,” *Improvement Era 27, no. 9 (July 1924)*: 828–834." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2709unse 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: improvementera2709unse start_page: 828 end_page: 834 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1924-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2709unse publication_year: 1924 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 1924, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Waters of the Ticaboo WATERS OF THE TICABOO By Taylor Thurber In the afternoon of a late Indian summer's day, Kanarra had gone into the Ticaboo to look over his fish traps. The softening blue haze of the still air carried in it peace. The dry odor of the pines was mingled with the fragrance of ripening berries that grew along the shallow stream. He sat down on the trunk of a large tree which had fallen across the Ticaboo and looked steadily into the water and watched the easy movements of the ever moving trout and how quickly they darted into shady places at his approach. He saw also, without knowing why, the reflection of himself as the waters flowed silently at his feet. He smiled as he watched his mir- rored form lengthen when he stood upright. A breeze whipped into the canyon, rippling the water and the image was gone. The slant- ing rays of the afternoon sun came pouring through the notch of rim-rock at the canyon's top, being reflected on the opposite side of the canyon in a crash of coloring, grey yellow, and red. Kanarra was of the Timpanodes. He was tall, with round, sloping shoulders and well muscled back. His face was Indian, firm but suggestive of something lost. As you studied the curl of his lip and watched his thoughtful, steady black eyes, you wondered if some- where in the recess of his mind he was not reviewing faces and mem- ories of mighty-ancestral hunters and hunting grounds, teeming with all manner of wild-game life. In his ears were fastened rings of smooth, yellow gold. On each side of his head hung heavy braids of black hair held firmly with wraps of beaded buckskin. Kanarra stepped down from the log and removed, the fish from his trap. He strung them on a forked willow and started for the lower traps down the stream. He walked slowly, singing in low voice a plain- tive hunting song. His time was measured in moons and snows, not in hours or distance. Pavanti was the daughter of the chief medicine-man of the Kenoshas. She was gathering wild berries and saw some choice ones on the Timpanodes' side of the Ticaboo and crossed over to get them. She heard the song, and thinking it might come from a Timpanode crouched low in the grass amongst the bushes. Pavanti was somewhat tall and slender. Climbing the mountains and running through the forest had given her body strength and beauty. She had acquired grace of movement as she had danced back and forth in rythmic time, watching the swaying of the tree tops. Her music came from the wind as it raced through the forest and broke over the mountain and was swept into the ledges and caves of the canyon. WATERS OF TICABOO 829 Her face was smooth, terminating in a graceful curve at her chin. Her dark, copper-tinted skin reflected health — youth. Her eyes were large and black. Her glossy ha'ir, parted in the middle, hung in two heavy braids behind her ears, each braid held firmly in place by a wide silver ring, ornamented with turquoise settings. Pavanti listened, her ears straining. Again she heard the song. It came nearer and nearer. Alarm seized her when she realized some- one was approaching; that she had crossed to the opposite side of the stream, thereby breaking a tribal law, and that her punishment, if caught, would be banishment from her tribe. She crouched low among the bushes. She must not be seen. The quick eye of Kanarra sighted the unnatural movement of the bush. He hastily placed the arrow to his bow and stepped cautiously towards the bush thinking to startle some wild animal. Pavanti hugged closely to the ground and from under her arm watched nervously his movements, his eye and the arrow. Each step he came nearer, she saw the bow tighten. He was ready to shoot the thing that moved. Sensing the danger, she screamed and arose quickly to her feet. Her face turned singularly pale and her whole body trembled. Suddenly she turned and faced him squarely, haughtily; her dark eyes flashed defiance at his in- trusion. Astonishment, then fierce anger seized Kanarra. Who was she that would break a sacred treaty? Who was she that dared place a foot on forbidden ground? Did she not know that law had made the waters of the Ticaboo the dividing line between the tribes? Did she not know this law was old when the trees of the Ticaboo were still young? Who should live that would despoil law? These were his thoughts as they stood facing each other. No word was spoken. Her eyes snapped a challenge. Kanarra's hands did not release the tension on the bow. Impulsively Pavanti drew from her foot a blue moccasin and flung it at his feet to emphasize her disdain. Half turning and looking over her shoulder, she gave him a taunting smile, — saying, "I am Pavanti," and quickly recrossed the stream, and darted out through the trees. Kanarra stood still and watched her out of sight. "Pavanti, Pavanti," he softly said. "She is beautiful like the mountain rose, she runs gracefully like the fawn," and he looked the way she had gone. He picked up the moccasin. It was covered with blue beads of fine workmanship. Would he place the moccasin against the tree and shoot his arrow into it or would he — "Pavanti; — Pavanti," he whispered, and looked again the way she had gone. "She is like the eagle that sails into the canyon from the mountain top, then flies swiftly to the crag and is lost. She is like sunlight when it first comes in the springtime." He cut a branch from the wild berry bush, sharpened the end and drove it into the thick bark of a pine tree. To this he tied the 830 IMPROVEMENT ERA blue moccasin. From his girdle he untied a small buckskin sack and dropped it into the moccasin. He ate some berries which had fallen from her hand and departed swiftly" into the shadows of the dim trail through the notch to his home. The last hard climb brought him to the top of the rim rock, Here he sat a moment to rest. He looked up and saw the evening star — his star, and in the silence he fancied it was she, for uncon- sciously he whispered the name — "Pavanti." Kanarra's instinct had told him that she would return for the moccasin. He would go into the Ticaboo again and he would keep secret her trespass. The following day he secreted himself on the canyon side to watch. He listened to the chattering squirrels and saw they were busy gathering their winter's supply of acorns. He looked out through the notch and observed a column of blue smoke which went straight, far into the sky. This, he knew, was from the camps of the Timpanodes. To the left and below him he could see the smoke from the tepees of the Kenoshas. Would she come — would he again see his vision of loveliness? After a while he saw her — she began to run from tree to tree, looking ahead and then back as though fearful of being seen. She reached the stream and looked cautiously about. Finally she saw the moccasin hanging to the tree. She crossed the stream and removed it, and ran quickly back to her own side of the Ticaboo, where she examined it closely. She knew and looked for the Indian sign of hate, but instead of an arrow found jewels and pretty stones in the moccasin. The necklace was of garnets and turquoise, the rings of bright silver. These she placed on her neck and fingers and called softly to the winds to sing in the tree tops that she might dance. In her ecstasy she had not noticed her watcher's approach. Turning around as she danced, she saw him and started to run. "Pavanti, Pavanti," he called gently, "You are like the white flowers that grow far up the Ticaboo. — I am Kanarra — son of the Timpanodes — may I come?" His heart beat wildly as be asked the question. She held up the hand on which she had placed the rings and beckoned him over. He hesitated. His life had been one of obe- dience to the law — no one of his clan knew how old it was. Its break- ing, he knew, would, if it be found out, call for swift punishment or the return to tribal war. He knew also, the exactness and cruelty of Indian punishment when inflicted on a transgressor. Would he cross the Ticaboo? Again she smiled and bade him come. The soft moonlight was sifting down through the moving branches of the trees, casting weird and ever-changing shadows at their feet. They stood there gazing at each other, when out of the silent night came the faint call, "Pavanti!" WATERS OF TICABOO 831 "It is my mother — Kanarra must now hurry — go quick!" she said. He picked a sego lily and placed it in her hair, then took her hand gently and said, "When Pavanti sees the burning pine tree far down the canyon, she will know that Kanarra is coming." "He will come again — soon," she whispered. "When the pine tree is burning," he answered. He watched her as she went quickly away. The days followed swiftly and Kanarra had set his fish traps near the head waters of the stream. He observed some beaver dams, very old, which in the long ago, had turned the water from their natural channel into the Ticaboo. He remembered the treaty of the tribes and that it said, — "The waters of the canyon shall be the dividing place." He examined the beaver dams closely. Kanarra was away from his camp very much. This was noticed by his chief who sent spies to watch him. When the sun had gone into his tepee after a long day's journey, Kanarra walked anxiously away from the camps. The spies followed and found him at his signal fire. They hid themselves in the rocks. The quick ear of Kanarra heard and when the blaze leaped high in the air he saw them. In surprise and anger he summoned them to him. "Are the Timpanodes not at peace? For what does my brothers follow me?" asked Kanarra. "Will Kanarra tell his brothers why he is burning the pine tree?" they asked. "That the clouds may have light to travel when the sun has gone to sleep." he answered. "Why does Kanarra go into the Ticaboo when it is night?" they asked. "That he might be early at his fish traps," he answered as he dashed away into the darkness of the canyon. They were quick to follow and saw, as the clouds passed over the moon's face, the Indian girl as she came running through the trees to meet him. They saw also that he had boldly crossed the stream and was trespassing the forbidden ground of the Kenoshas. The spies returned and the news of a broken law brought quick response from the Timpanodes chief. The warriors were sent to capture Kanarra. They found him at his traps. His hands were tied with thongs and he was brought before the chief. "It is said Kanarra," spoke the chief, "that the old law, which for so long has kept peace between the Timpanodes and the Kenoshas, has been broken and by a Timpanode — is it so?" Kanarra did not answer. The chief became very angry and demanded that he tell the name of the maiden whom he had met in the Ticaboo. 83 2 IMPROVEMENT ERA Kanarra smiled in defiance but said nothing. "Let the ants punish him," cried the angry chief. They bound his legs and threw his body across a hill of sting ing ants. Runners were sent to the Kenoshas to tell them of the broken law and asking them to gather at once at the Ticaboo and witness the banishment of the breaker. Kanarra's torture from the stinging ants was fast driving him mad. His thought was of Pavanti and in his delirium he imagined she stood before him and in a pleading voice he called her name. They quickly rescued him from the ant bed and taunted him by repeating the name "Pavanti." Soon the tribes were at the river where there was much excitement, low mutterings and angry looks. Pavanti was questioned and grilled but would say nothing. The Timpanode chief had Kanarra brought where all could see him. His hands were bound, his face and body bore the unsightly marks of the angry ants. He suffered, yet he was unafraid. The chief slipped his blanket from his shoulders to his left arm and with his right he motioned them all to silence and addressed them thus; "The eagle flies high and watches for its prey — the dove sees his shadow and flutters into the bramble to escape. The eagle knows but one law — the law that slays — the dove has learned the law of peace. In the long ago before they learned the law, the Timpanodes and the Kenoshas were like the eagle, they did hunt each other to kill. When the waters of the Ticaboo became the dividing place there was law and long have we been as the dove. There shall be no Timpanode found with one of your people, nor shall a Kenoshas ever come unto us. My people shall be my people — your people must ever remain strangers to us. Kanarra — whom you see — a Timpanode, has broken the covenant of our fathers and like an unwanted dog, he shall this day be driven away, forever." The speech was no sooner ended than the Kenoshas, on their side, gathered into circles and began to shout and dance. The Tim- panodes gathered about Kanarra to sing their songs of scorn. There was a fearless expression on the face of Kanarra, as he looked straight across to Pavanti. She returned a wistful smile as he caught the bright gleam of a dagger in her hand. He knew what it meant. Suddenly he sprang to the top of a rock, jutting over the river's edge, and with mighty force broke the thongs which bound his hands and addressed himself thus; — "Law is strong like a wolf — love is strong like a bear. Kanarra knows the law but he loves Pavanti. Pavanti is fair like a mountain rose. Kanarra has broken a law because his love for Pavanti is stronger than law. The Timpanodes and the Kenoshas hate. Pavanti and Kanarra love. Hate is like a poison weed, to eat and die; love is like sweet berries, to eat and live. WATERS OF TICABOO 83 3 Kanarra is not a dog because he loves and he will curse the eagle thai slays the dove; he will curse the wolf that kills the lamb; he will curse the gods that laugh when there is hate, — and if in three days these waters are not dried up, he will curse the thing that causes our hate — he will curse the Ticaboo." While he was yet speaking a blinding flash of lightning silenced them. This was followed by the deafening peal of thunder, which echoed and re-echoed through the canyon. Immediately a great cloud came rolling over the rim-rock and misty darkness enveloped the whole scene. Pavanti's eyes had never left her lover. She ran frantically to him and threw her arms about his neck. "Come, Kanarra — come quick — while there is darkness we can escape — let us go now together" — she said anxiously. Kanarra quickly placed his arms about her and drew her close, saying, "No, Pavanti, I go, but I come in three days, then when the stars shine I shall listen for your song, by the tree where the moccasin hangs." When the cloud lifted Kanarra was gone. The deafening peals of thunder had thrown the tribesmen into a frenzied stupor. When they had recovered they found their captive had escaped. Soon there was much talk and much excitement in the camps. They tried to remember and repeat all words he had spoken. Pavanti knew not where he had gone but that he would return in three days, she knew — had he not said it? As if speeding before a pack of hungry wolves, Kanarra ran out through the forest, along the rough trails that led to the beaver dams. He gathered poles to be used as spikes and heavy timbers for battering rams. With these he proceeded to undermine and tear out the age- old dams. All night and the following day he worked without ceasing. At last he was able to remove a great log that ran length- wise into the dam and he saw the waters come splashing through and go roaring down their ancient course. Soon there would be no water in the Ticaboo. He had won. In two days the Indians observed that the waters were fast re- ceding. The chief of the Kenoshas came excitedly to the Ticaboo where on the opposite side he saw the chief of the Timpanodes watr*- ing, perplexed and sullen, the diminishing stream. "Will the Timpanode chief explain this strange thing? M> people murmur that Kanarra should escape and fear that some great evil will come upon us." "Peace, O Chief, the Timpanode will speak — Kanarra has gone to fight the fierce monster that brought all hate to the tribes. He has already wounded the beast and it is fleeing before him, as the waters of the Ticaboo are diminishing. Did he not, because of his great love for Pavanti, curse the wild monster of hate. Did you not see 834 IMPROVEMENT ERA his eyes, how like fire they were when he spoke and his voice, — did it not utter strong truth? Did he not curse the Ticaboo — is it not so — is he not a prophet?" The Timpanode waited for a reply. The two mighty men of the tribes stood facing each other. Finally the Kenoshas answered, as he looked at the dry bed of the stream, "Kanarra is a prophet." As soon as these words were spoken, the Timpanode crossed over to where the Kenoshas was standing and slowly removed his great war bonnet from his head and laid it at his feet. Turning to his people he said, — "Let there be prepared a great feast for Kanarra, such as has never been given before by the Tim- panodes. Bring presents of your finest skins of both antelope and the bear, as also of your finest jewels, to Pavanti. Say to her that where she chooses there will the Timpanodes place the prophet's tepee. My counselors, I send to the Kenoshas that they may partake with us. All you, my people, will remember to war no more. Let my strong men go quickly and bring many love flowers from the desert, Kanarra will soon return." Both tribes were now very busy in making preparations for the prophet's return. Wood was gathered into great piles — the hunters returned with much venison. The sun was now slumbering in his couch of richness and rest, and the gathering shades of night were silently closing about. Pavanti was anxiously watching for her lover — he would return — were his last words to her. The time was to her long, too long. The barking of the dogs broke in upon the stillness of the night. Runners were sent to investigate the cause. Lying on a stone in the canyon they found a man unconscious. It was Kanarra! Pavanti gave him hot drinks and washed his pale, tired face. Soon he opened his eyes and beheld her great happiness. "Pavanti, my Pavanti," he murmured. In my dream I saw the great mountains ■ — they change not. As are the mountains, so is my love for you." Songs filled the air and the light from many fires filled the canyon. "Come this way, Kanarra," she said, "for now we two go to- gether and there shall be clouds no more" — as she led him to the tepee where the blue moccasin hung. "To you of the Kenoshas and of the Timpanodes, look!" he said, "this shall ever be the home of Pavanti," and he tenderly slipped his gaily colored blanket around her shoulders. "Into the tepee of Kanarra, Pavanti and love will go. Hate cannot enter for he and not Kanarra is banished from the Ticaboo." Washington, D. C.