AN ADVERTISEMENT

                                                                                      I was fifteen years of age in the year 1823. I was living in the city of Uniontown Pennsylvania. My mother and Father had only two months prior unexpectedly taken ill and died, leaving me all alone. I had no place to go but the streets, which is where I lived for two months in filth and poverty. I was a wretched little boy, taking to swiping food and candy when I could, and even occasionally clothes. I did not know what I was to do with my life. Then unexpectedly one day my life changed.  It was June 3rd, and I was walking around town looking for food, when I happened upon a paper stuck to the wall of a building. I looked upon it, and was filled with great interest. It ran thus:

        Looking for men willing to travel to the unknown lands west

        Apply to 1231 Brickston street for more details.

        This short advertisement would set me off on the journey of a lifetime. But of course, I did not know this then. I took the paper from the wall, looked closer at the address, and then stuffed it in my pocket and hurried off to Brickston street.

        I came to a small white building a few minutes later, and stood in the stone pathway which led to the doorway. I looked down at myself, at my dirty clothes and grimy skin, and I thought for sure that I would be laughed at and thrown off the premises. My mood was darkened. But I soon got a hold of myself and was determined to see this through. I marched down the pathway, up the front steps and to the door. I knocked loudly, and waited. About ten seconds later the door was opened and I laid my eyes on Thomas Stevenson. He was a large burly man with a large black beard and two keen gray eyes. His hands were covered in calluses and numerous scars. I immediately took a disliking to him. There was just something about his whole character that threw me off. He took one look at me and sneered.

        “Who are you, and do you want?”

        I stood petrified before him, and it was a few seconds before I could stammer out a response.

        “My name’s David sir, David Stacks.”

        Mr. Stevenson continued glaring at me, and then I realized that I had not answered the second part of his question. I reached into my pocket and unfolded the piece of paper.

        “I’m here about the advertisement, about going west.”

        Mr. Stevenson looked down at the paper, and then ushered me into the door. 

        I soon found myself in a small cluttered office. On the walls hung animal pelts, various rifles, and on the mantle above the fireplace there was the skull of a cougar. Mr. Stevenson took the seat behind his desk and I took the one in front. For a minute or so we sat in silence, while he looked me over. Finally, he spoke.

        “So, Mr. Stacks, what makes you want to go west?”

        “Well sir, I can’t rightly say. I guess it’s just because I want to see new places, see something other than brick buildings. I guess it’s because I want to get out of this place, there’s nothing here for me.”

        “But you’re young, what would your parents have to say about this? We only need one more person for this journey and we don’t have room for anymore.”

        “Well sir, that doesn’t present a problem. My parents are dead.”

        Mr. Stevenson looked at me, and for a moment I thought I saw pity in his eyes.

        “That’s unfortunate,” he said, and then fell silent for about a minute, before resuming speaking. “Mr. Stacks, if you were to go on this journey, what services could you provide to us?”

        “What do you mean?”

        “Well, can you hunt, and most importantly can you ride a horse?”

        At this question, I froze. I did know how to ride, but of the other things I had no clue. My father was never much of a hunter, and I didn’t even know how to load a gun. But I knew that if I told him these things, that he would say something like “Well thank you for your time, but I’m afraid you’re not the right person for us, so sorry.” And I was determined to go on this journey. So, I lied and told him that I knew how to do all those things. He nodded and then once more was silent.

        “Might I ask sir, what is the purpose of this journey,” I said after he had been silent for over a minute now.

        He looked up at me annoyed, I could tell that I broke his train of thought. But he answered all the same.

        “Well Mr. Stacks, I am employed by a Mr. James White. He’s a businessman, and he came to me over two years ago saying that he and some friends of his wished to travel west and settle down. Create their own town, he said. There were over two hundred people who wished to go along. He told me that I would be paid handsomely if I agreed, and so I did. I helped organize everything, and I was given control to hire anyone who I saw fit to help in this journey.’

“The preparations took about half a year, and when they were done, he and his friends were to set off west. At least that was what was supposed to happen. But unfortunately, unforeseen circumstances arose concerning Mr. White’s business that he was trying to sell and he was forced to remain behind for a little while longer while the others set off. The journey took about a year, but they got there. So now Mr. WHite has gotten everything in order, and now wishes to go west. So, I have put together a little group to help see him west safely. For this journey I have chosen four people to come along and keep him and his family safe, and now I am looking for the fifth member of our little company.”

He finished and sighed.

“Am I going with you,” I asked timidly.

Mr. Stevenson furrowed his brow and nodded.

“Yes, I have chosen you to come, if only for the fact that Mr. White wishes for a younger man to come along so as to entertain his children a little I suppose, he wasn’t entirely clear on that point. Seeing as you are the only young man to apply for this journey, we’ll take you. I’ll be frank with you. I don’t think that you’ll be good for us.”

At his words I was both excited and happy, and angry and dissatisfied. My dislike for Mr. Stevenson grew. Still, I was going on the journey. My heart pounded with excitement.

“You’ll report back here in a week’s time, at ten am sharp, and we’ll be off. You will be provided with suitable clothes,” he said glancing down at mine. “And you’ll receive your arms. Don’t be late or we’ll not hesitate to leave without you. Now be off.”

I left the building with a skip in my step, and a song in my heart. I could not wait to leave this town behind, with all it’s bad memories and sour atmosphere. I was ready for an adventure.