The scenes of daring and of strife in those exciting days of battle and the talks with the wounded men could not but make a deep impression on such a thoughtful boy as William Van Orsdel. He saw what men were given power to accomplish when they held their lives as nothing in the struggle for the things which they believed to be right. The memory of those stirring days with the acts of sacrifice and of heroism which he had witnessed made him long for the time when as a man he could engage in such deeds of action and of daring as those of the soldiers. With the thoughtfulness which marked his quiet days on the farm and in the country school, he now began to look forward to some life task that would call for hardship and adventure and would make his life of the largest service to those in need. There was a dauntlessness in William which was partly due to the fact that he had pioneer ancestry. His great-grandfather came over from Holland to New Jersey with the early settlers. His grandfather settled in Pennsylvania about the time of the Revolution, and William’s father was born there. His mother came from England, and in the little farmhouse near Gettysburg, William was born on March 20, 1848. Hard work and heavy responsibilities fell to the boy early in life, for when he was but fourteen years old, his father died. He then had the care of his mother and sister and the management of the farm. Two strenuous years followed; then his mother died and the children were separated and taken into the homes of relatives. William was now cared for by an aunt, whose farm was close to Gettysburg. The change made it possible for him to attend a better school and he was proud to become a student of Hunterstown Academy. Eagerly did he grasp this opportunity to prepare himself to render the greatest service in whatever life-work should open before him. CHAPTER II EXPLORERS OF A CONTINENTAL PURCHASE AS William pored over his big geography in the firelight of his Pennsylvania home, that great stretch of territory vaguely called the “Northwest” filled his mind with interesting visions of possible adventures. Another name given to it by his elders, and by the books, was the “Great American Desert,” and the boy could never hear enough of the tales that came out of it. He always wanted to learn more about the Indians, with their strange beliefs and customs, and about the great brown herds of buffalo that roamed over the plains, and that were being slaughtered wantonly by white man and red man alike. He day-dreamed of Indian camps, of the long wagon-trains of venturesome pioneers, of swift, pony express riders, and of the hardy hunters of wild animals in the mountains. “When I am old enough, I am going west,” said the boy to his friends. “I shall come back to Pennsylvania to live, but I am going to see the land of Lewis and Clark first.”