Andersonville — Volume 3 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 163 pages of information about Andersonville — Volume 3.

Andersonville — Volume 3 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 163 pages of information about Andersonville — Volume 3.

“The one that gets the longest one goes first.”

Harvey reached forth and drew the longer one.

We made a tour of reconnaissance.  Everything seemed as usual, and wonderfully calm compared with the tumult in our minds.  The Hospital guards were pacing their beats lazily; those on the Stockade were drawling listlessly the first “call around” of the evening: 

“Post numbah foah!  Half-past seven o’clock! and a-l-l’s we-l-ll!”

Inside the Stockade was a Babel of sounds, above all of which rose the melody of religious and patriotic songs, sung in various parts of the camp.  From the headquarters came the shouts and laughter of the Rebel officers having a little “frolic” in the cool of the evening.  The groans of the sick around us were gradually hushing, as the abatement of the terrible heat let all but the worst cases sink into a brief slumber, from which they awoke before midnight to renew their outcries.  But those in the Gangrene wards seemed to be denied even this scanty blessing.  Apparently they never slept, for their shrieks never ceased.  A multitude of whip-poor-wills in the woods around us began their usual dismal cry, which had never seemed so unearthly and full of dreadful presages as now.

It was, now quite dark, and we stole noiselessly down to the Creek and reconnoitered.  We listened.  The guard was not pacing his beat, as we could not hear his footsteps.  A large, ill-shapen lump against the trunk of one of the trees on the bank showed that he was leaning there resting himself.  We watched him for several minutes, but he did not move, and the thought shot into our minds that he might be asleep; but it seemed impossible:  it was too early in the evening.

Now, if ever, was the opportunity.  Harney squeezed my hand, stepped noiselessly into the Creek, laid himself gently down into the filthy water, and while my heart was beating so that I was certain it could be heard some distance from me, began making toward the fence.  He passed under easily, and I raised my eyes toward the guard, while on my strained ear fell the soft plashing made by Harvey as he pulled himself cautiously forward.  It seemed as if the sentinel must hear this; he could not help it, and every second I expected to see the black lump address itself to motion, and the musket flash out fiendishly.  But he did not; the lump remained motionless; the musket silent.

When I thought that Harvey had gained a sufficient distance I followed.  It seemed as if the disgusting water would smother me as I laid myself down into it, and such was my agitation that it appeared almost impossible that I should escape making such a noise as would attract the guard’s notice.  Catching hold of the roots and limbs at the side of the stream, I pulled myself slowly along, and as noiselessly as possible.

I passed under the fence without difficulty, and was outside, and within fifteen feet of the guard.  I had lain down into the creek upon my right side, that my face might be toward the guard, and I could watch him closely all the time.

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Andersonville — Volume 3 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.