at present, watching the cow-boys at their play. Saving Trampas,
there was scarce a face among them that had not in it something
very likable. Here were lusty horsemen ridden from the heat of
the sun, and the wet of the storm, to divert themselves awhile.
Youth untamed sat here for an idle moment, spending easily its
hard-earned wages. City saloons rose into my vision, and I
instantly preferred this Rocky Mountain place. More of death it
undoubtedly saw, but less of vice, than did its New York
equivalents.

And death is a thing much cleaner than vice. Moreover, it was by
no means vice that was written upon these wild and manly faces.
Even where baseness was visible, baseness was not uppermost.
Daring, laughter, endurance--these were what I saw upon the
countenances of the cow-boys. And this very first day of my
knowledge of them marks a date with me. For something about them,
and the idea of them, smote my American heart, and I have never
forgotten it, nor ever shall, as long as I live. In their flesh
our natural passions ran tumultuous; but often in their spirit
sat hidden a true nobility, and often beneath its unexpected
shining their figures took on heroic stature.

The dealer had styled the Virginian "a black-headed guy." This
did well enough as an unflattered portrait. Judge Henry's
trustworthy man, with whom I was to drive two hundred and
sixty-three miles, certainly had a very black head of hair. It
was the first thing to notice now, if one glanced generally at
the table where he sat at cards. But the eye came back to
him--drawn by that inexpressible something which had led the
dealer to speak so much at length about him.