The Young Sharpshooter at Antietam

by Everett T. Tomlinson

Noel breathlessly watched his companion, at the same time seeking to discover whether the descent of Dennis was known to any one below. The young soldier had no conception of the minutes that passed, but it seemed to him a long time before the young Irishman at last disappeared from sight, evidently having successfully gained the ground.

Without hesitating longer, Noel instantly prepared to follow. As he seized the extended branch his hands for a moment slipped, and it was only with difficulty that he retained his hold and prevented himself from falling to the ground. The branch creaked ominously and the alarm of the young soldier was increased by his fear that it would fail to sustain him. Noel was strong and nimble, however, and soon secured a firmer grip, and convinced that his departure from the building as yet had not been discovered, he rapidly made his way to the ground, and then without delaying a moment ran swiftly in the direction of the barn.

All the time he was fearful of a shot from the guard in or about the house. Perhaps fear gave him additional speed. At all events, in a brief time he gained the shelter he was seeking, and at once, keeping well within the lee of the barn, peered anxiously at the place from which he had fled.

The noise of the storm was the only sound to be heard. The faint light that was shining from the window of the hall where the guard had been stationed was the only bright spot in the midst of the surrounding darkness. There were no indications of pursuit and no sound which indicated that his flight had become known.

But where was Dennis? For the first time Noel became aware that he and his friend had not made any plans as to their meeting in case both were successful in escaping from the house.

Eagerly the boy looked all about him, but there was no sign of his friendly comrade. For a moment Noel was undecided. Should he remain where he was and wait the possible coming of Dennis? Or should he at once depart from the place, now that he had succeeded in gaining the shelter of the barn, and strive to make his way as best he might to the road which joined the one that led through the swamp?

Noel Curtis was too highly wrought up to hesitate long. Safely making his way toward the opposite side of the barn, he then started swiftly in the direction in which the longed-for road was to be found. He had only a faint recollection of the direction, however, and the night was too dark to enable him to discover any familiar signs.

Before he had fled twenty yards he was drenched with the downpour. That fact, however, was of minor consequence, and in his eagerness, although he frequently was slipping and sliding as his feet failed to gain a firm foothold in the slippery mud, it was not long before Noel found himself at the place he was seeking. He had believed that no guard would be stationed there in such a night. Not only was the storm so violent as to make it well-nigh impossible for a man and his horse to remain outside, but the darkness would enable any Northern soldiers who might have crossed the corduroy road to escape the vision of the waiting Confederate.

Noel's surprise and pleasure were great when he discovered that the road over which he was running was a plank road. When he had fled about one hundred yards, almost breathless he halted to discover whether or not there were any signs of pursuit.

Convinced that his escape as yet was unknown, the lad seated himself on a plank in a small bridge and donned the shoes which he had been carrying about his neck. Then he resumed his flight through the driving storm.