At a distance of a half mile, Tom could see a little farmhouse, and he hastily decided that the young lieutenant must be carried there. The building was on the border of the plain and on the side opposite to the place where the struggle was going on.
There would be danger in the attempt to carry him across the field, but thinking only of his friend, Tom said hastily, "We must carry him to that farmhouse yonder, Nathan. I don't know who lives there, but whoever does won't refuse to receive a wounded man, I know. You take hold of his feet, and I'll lift the head and shoulders, and we'll get him there somehow. Come, Nathan, we mustn't delay a minute."
"Have it thine own way, Friend Thomas," replied Nathan, as he stooped and grasped the legs of the wounded officer.
Tom gently lifted the head of the young lieutenant at the same time, and carefully across the field the two men began to move with their burden. Their progress necessarily was slow, and the lad's fears were not allayed by the evident alarm of his companion. Nathan repeatedly glanced behind him, and several times Tom was compelled to speak sharply to recall the frightened man to their present task. The shouts and reports of the guns were increasing, and Tom's strongest desire was to avoid attracting the attention of any of the combatants.
They had safely passed beyond the orchard, and he was just beginning to hope that their efforts would be successful, when suddenly Nathan's hat was lifted from his head and the sound of a whistling musket-ball was heard as it passed above them.
For a moment, the startled Nathan looked down at his hat, and as he perceived the hole in it which the bullet had made, he instantly dropped his burden, and turning sharply about, started in a swift run across the field.
"Come back, Nathan! Come back! Don't leave me here!" pleaded Tom; but Nathan did not heed the call.
His pace was a marvelous one for a man of his years, and as he bent low over the ground, as if to avoid other bullets which might be coming toward him, and sped swiftly forward, under other circumstances Tom might have felt inclined to laugh at the ludicrous sight the fleeing man of peace presented. But as it was he felt much more inclined to cry than to laugh, and, as he realized his own helplessness, he knew not what to do. If he had been alone he might have followed Nathan and gained a place of safety, but, as he glanced down upon the suffering man, who now lay stretched upon the ground, his whole soul rebelled against the thought of deserting his friend in a time like that.
What could he do? The desperate lad looked about him hoping to discover some one whom he might summon to his aid. In the distance he could see the bands of struggling soldiers, and their shouts and shots could be clearly heard. But they were all intent upon their own contest, and there was no one who would hear or heed him if he should call.
He could not abandon his friend—that much at least was certain; and at last he determined to do his utmost to carry the helpless, wounded man himself. Placing his arms beneath the shoulders of the unconscious lieutenant, and striving to rest the head against his own body, he started slowly on, dragging the man with him. His progress was necessarily slow, and he was compelled to stop frequently, both for his own sake and that of his friend. Still, on and on he persistently made his way. The intense heat of the day, his constant fear that life would depart from the body he was dragging forward, the sound of the battle behind him, all combined to increase his troubles; but not for a moment did he think of abandoning his efforts for his friend.