CHAPTER II
THE COMPANY OF THE NOBLE SEVEN
As we were dismounting, the cries, "Hello, Jack!" "How do, Dale?""Hello, old Smoke!" in the heartiest of tones, made me see that mycousin was a favorite with the men grouped about the door. Jack simplynodded in reply and then presented me in due form. "My tenderfoot cousinfrom the effete," he said, with a flourish. I was surprised at the graceof the bows made me by these roughly-dressed, wild-looking fellows. Imight have been in a London drawing-room. I was put at my ease at onceby the kindliness of their greeting, for, upon Jack's introduction,I was admitted at once into their circle, which, to a tenderfoot, wasusually closed.
What a hardy-looking lot they were! Brown, spare, sinewy and hard asnails, they appeared like soldiers back from a hard campaign. They movedand spoke with an easy, careless air of almost lazy indifference,but their eyes had a trick of looking straight out at you, cool andfearless, and you felt they were fit and ready.
That night I was initiated into the Company of the Noble Seven--but ofthe ceremony I regret to say I retain but an indistinct memory; for theydrank as they rode, hard and long, and it was only Jack's care that gotme safely home that night.
The Company of the Noble Seven was the dominant social force in the SwanCreek country. Indeed, it was the only social force Swan Creek knew.Originally consisting of seven young fellows of the best blood ofBritain, "banded together for purposes of mutual improvement and socialenjoyment," it had changed its character during the years, but notits name. First, its membership was extended to include "approvedcolonials," such as Jack Dale and "others of kindred spirit," underwhich head, I suppose, the two cowboys from the Ashley Ranch, Hi Keadaland "Bronco" Bill--no one knew and no one asked his other name--wereadmitted. Then its purposes gradually limited themselves to those of asocial nature, chiefly in the line of poker-playing and whisky-drinking.Well born and delicately bred in that atmosphere of culture mingled witha sturdy common sense and a certain high chivalry which surrounds thestately homes of Britain, these young lads, freed from the restraintsof custom and surrounding, soon shed all that was superficial in theirmake-up and stood forth in the naked simplicity of their native manhood.The West discovered and revealed the man in them, sometimes to theirhonor, often to their shame. The Chief of the Company was the Hon. FredAshley, of the Ashley Ranch, sometime of Ashley Court, England--a big,good-natured man with a magnificent physique, a good income from home,and a beautiful wife, the Lady Charlotte, daughter of a noble Englishfamily. At the Ashley Ranch the traditions of Ashley Court werepreserved as far as possible. The Hon. Fred appeared at the wolf-huntsin riding-breeches and top boots, with hunting crop and English saddle,while in all the appointments of the house the customs of the Englishhome were observed. It was characteristic, however, of western life thathis two cowboys, Hi Kendal and Bronco Bill, felt themselves quite hissocial equals, though in the presence of his beautiful, stately wifethey confessed that they "rather weakened." Ashley was a thoroughly goodfellow, well up to his work as a cattle-man, and too much of a gentlemanto feel, much less assert, any superiority of station. He had thelargest ranch in the country and was one of the few men making money.
Ashley's chief friend, or, at least, most frequent companion, was a manwhom they called "The Duke." No one knew his name, but every one saidhe was "the son of a lord," and certainly from his style and bearinghe might be the son of almost anything that was high enough in rank. Hedrew "a remittance," but, as that was paid through Ashley, no one knewwhence it came nor how much it was. He was a perfect picture of a man,and in all western virtues was easily first. He could rope a steer,bunch cattle, play poker or drink whisky to the admiration of hisfriends and the confusion of his foes, of whom he had a few; while as to"bronco busting," the virtue par excellence of western cattle-men, evenBronco Bill was heard to acknowledge that "he wasn't in it with theDook, for it was his opinion that he could ride anythin' that had legsin under it, even if it was a blanked centipede." And this, coming fromone who made a profession of "bronco busting," was unquestionably highpraise. The Duke lived alone, except when he deigned to pay a visitto some lonely rancher who, for the marvellous charm of his talk, wasdelighted to have him as guest, even at the expense of the loss of a fewgames at poker. He made a friend of no one, though some men could tellof times when he stood between them and their last dollar, exacting onlythe promise that no mention should be made of his deed. He had an easy,lazy manner and a slow cynical smile that rarely left his face, and theonly sign of deepening passion in him was a little broadening of hissmile. Old Latour, who kept the Stopping Place, told me how once TheDuke had broken into a gentle laugh. A French half-breed freighter onhis way north had entered into a game of poker with The Duke, with theresult that his six months' pay stood in a little heap at his enemy'sleft hand. The enraged freighter accused his smiling opponent of being acheat, and was proceeding to demolish him with one mighty blow. ButThe Duke, still smiling, and without moving from his chair, caught thedescending fist, slowly crushed the fingers open, and steadily drew theFrenchman to his knees, gripping him so cruelly in the meantime that hewas forced to cry aloud in agony for mercy. Then it was that The Dukebroke into a light laugh and, touching the kneeling Frenchman on hischeek with his finger-tips, said: "Look here, my man, you shouldn'tplay the game till you know how to do it and with whom you play." Then,handing him back the money, he added: "I want money, but not yours."Then, as he sat looking at the unfortunate wretch dividing his attentionbetween his money and his bleeding fingers, he once more broke into agentle laugh that was not good to hear.
The Duke was by all odds the most striking figure in the Company ofthe Noble Seven, and his word went farther than that of any other.His shadow was Bruce, an Edinburgh University man, metaphysical,argumentative, persistent, devoted to The Duke. Indeed, his chiefambition was to attain to The Duke's high and lordly manner; but,inasmuch as he was rather squat in figure and had an open, good-naturedface and a Scotch voice of the hard and rasping kind, his attempts atimitation were not conspicuously successful. Every mail that reachedSwan Creek brought him a letter from home. At first, after I had gotto know him, he would give me now and then a letter to read, but as thetone became more and more anxious he ceased to let me read them, and Iwas glad enough of this. How he could read those letters and go the paceof the Noble Seven I could not see. Poor Bruce! He had good impulses, agenerous heart, but the "Permit" nights and the hunts and the "roundups"and the poker and all the wild excesses of the Company were more than hecould stand.
Then there were the two Hill brothers, the younger, Bertie, afair-haired, bright-faced youngster, none too able to look afterhimself, but much inclined to follies of all degrees and sorts. Buthe was warm-hearted and devoted to his big brother, Humphrey, called"Hump," who had taken to ranching mainly with the idea of looking afterhis younger brother. And no easy matter that was, for every one likedthe lad and in consequence helped him down.
In addition to these there were two others of the original seven, but byforce of circumstances they were prevented from any more than a nominalconnection with the Company. Blake, a typical wild Irishman, had joinedthe police at the Fort, and Gifford had got married and, as Bill said,"was roped tighter'n a steer."
The Noble Company, with the cowboys that helped on the range and two orthree farmers that lived nearer the Fort, composed the settlers of theSwan Creek country. A strange medley of people of all ranks and nations,but while among them there were the evil-hearted and evil-living, still,for the Noble Company I will say that never have I fallen in with menbraver, truer, or of warmer heart. Vices they had, all too apparent anddeadly, but they were due rather to the circumstances of their livesthan to the native tendencies of their hearts. Throughout that summerand the winter following I lived among them, camping on the range withthem and sleeping in their shacks, bunching cattle in summer and huntingwolves in winter, nor did I, for I was no wiser than they, refuse mypart on "Permit" nights; but through all not a man of them ever failedto be tr
ue to his standard of honor in the duties of comradeship andbrotherhood.