to the fire from the hill。 The enemy had opened fire as soon as our advance
was pushed out。 With a glass one could distinguish the infantry pushing up
in lines； five or six in succession； the men being some yards apart。
Then came a long pause； broken only by the big guns。 At last we got the order
to advance just as the big guns of the enemy stopped their fire。
We advanced about four miles mostly up the slope； which is in all
about 1500 feet high； over a great deal of rough ground
and over a number of spruits。 The horses were put to their utmost
to draw the guns up the hills。 As we advanced we could see artillery
crawling in from both flanks； all converging to the main hill； while far away
the infantry and cavalry were beginning to crown the heights near us。
Then the field guns and the pompoms began to play。 As the field guns
came up to a broad plateau section after section came into action；
and we fired shrapnel and lyddite on the crests ahead and to the left。
Every now and then a rattle of Mausers and Metfords would tell us
that the infantry were at their work； but practically the battle was over。
From being an infantry attack as expected it was the gunners' day；
and the artillery seemed to do excellent work。
General Buller pushed up the hill as the guns were at work；
and afterwards General Hamilton； the one as grim as his pictures；
the other looking very happy。 The wind blew through us cold like ice
as we stood on the hill； as the artillery ceased fire the mist dropped over us
chilling us to the bone。 We were afraid we should have to spend the night
on the hill； but a welcome order came sending us back to camp；
a distance of five miles by the roads； as Buller would hold the hill；
and our force must march south。 Our front was over eight miles wide
and the objective 1500 feet higher than our camp； and over six miles away。
If the enemy had had the nerve to stand； the position could scarcely
have been taken； certainly not without the loss of thousands。
For this campaign he received the Queen's Medal with three clasps。
VI
Children and Animals
Through all his life； and through all his letters； dogs and children
followed him as shadows follow men。 To walk in the streets with him
was a slow procession。 Every dog and every child one met must be spoken to；
and each made answer。 Throughout the later letters the names
Bonfire and Bonneau occur continually。 Bonfire was his horse；
and Bonneau his dog。
This horse； an Irish hunter； was given to him by John L。 Todd。
It was wounded twice； and now lives in honourable retirement
at a secret place which need not be disclosed to the army authorities。
One officer who had visited the hospital writes of seeing him
going about the wards with Bonneau and a small French child following after。
In memory of his love for animals and children the following extracts
will serve：
You ask if the wee fellow has a name Mike； mostly； as a term of affection。
He has found a cupboard in one ward in which oakum is stored；
and he loves to steal in there and 〃pick oakum〃； amusing himself
as long as is permitted。 I hold that this indicates convict ancestry
to which Mike makes no defence。
The family is very well； even one…eyed Mike is able to go round the yard
in his dressing…gown； so to speak。 He is a queer pathetic little beast
and Madame has him 〃hospitalized〃 on the bottom shelf of the sideboard
in the living room； whence he comes down （six inches to the floor）
to greet me； and then gravely hirples back； the hind legs looking
very pathetic as he hops in。 But he is full of spirit and is doing very well。
As to the animals 〃those poor voiceless creatures；〃 say you。 I wish
you could hear them。 Bonneau and Mike are a perfect Dignity and Impudence；
and both vocal to a wonderful degree。 Mike's face is exactly like the terrier
in the old picture； and he sits up and gives his paw just like Bonneau；
and I never saw him have any instruction； and as for voice；
I wish you could hear Bonfire's 〃whicker〃 to me in the stable or elsewhere。
It is all but talk。 There is one ward door that he tries whenever we pass。
He turns his head around； looks into the door； and waits。
The Sisters in the ward have changed frequently； but all alike 〃fall for it〃；
as they say； and produce a biscuit or some such dainty which Bonfire takes
with much gravity and gentleness。 Should I chide him for being too eager
and give him my hand saying； 〃Gentle now；〃 he mumbles with his lips；
and licks with his tongue like a dog to show how gentle he can be
when he tries。 Truly a great boy is that same。 On this subject
I am like a doting grandmother； but forgive it。
I have a very deep affection for Bonfire； for we have been through
so much together； and some of it bad enough。 All the hard spots
to which one's memory turns the old fellow has shared；
though he says so little about it。
This love of animals was no vagrant mood。 Fifteen years before
in South Africa he wrote in his diary under date of September 11th； 1900：
I wish I could introduce you to the dogs of the force。 The genus dog here
is essentially sociable； and it is a great pleasure to have them about。
I think I have a personal acquaintance with them all。 There are our pups
Dolly； whom I always know by her one black and one white eyebrow；
Grit and Tory； two smaller gentlemen； about the size of a pound of butter
and fighters； one small white gentleman who rides on a horse； on the blanket；
Kitty； the monkey； also rides the off lead of the forge wagon。
There is a black almond…eyed person belonging to the Royal Scots；
who begins to twist as far as I can see her； and comes up in long curves；
extremely genially。 A small shaggy chap who belongs to the Royal Irish
stands upon his hind legs and spars with his front feet
and lots of others every one of them 〃a soldier and a man〃。
The Royal Scots have a monkey； Jenny； who goes around always trailing a sack
in her hand； into which she creeps if necessary to obtain shelter。
The other day old Jack； my horse； was bitten by his next neighbor；
he turned SLOWLY； eyed his opponent； shifted his rope so that he had
a little more room； turned very deliberately； and planted both heels
in the offender's stomach。 He will not be run upon。
From a time still further back comes a note in a like strain。
In 1898 he was house physician in a children's hospital at Mt。 Airy；
Maryland； when he wrote：
A kitten has taken up with a poor cripple dying of muscular atrophy
who cannot move。 It stays with him all the time； and sleeps most of the day
in his straw hat。 To…night I saw the kitten curled up under the bed…clothes。
It seems as if it were a gift of Providence that the little creature
should attach itself to the child who needs it most。
Of another child：
The day she died she called for me all day； deposed the nurse
who was sitting by her； and asked me to remain with her。
She had to be held up on account of lack of breath；
and I had a tiring hour of it before she died； but it seemed
to make her happier and was no great sacrifice。 Her friends arrived
twenty minutes too late。 It seems hard that Death will not wait
the poor fraction of an hour； but so it is。
And here are some letters to his nephews and nieces which reveal his attitude
both to children and to animals。
From Bonfire to Sergt。…Major Jack Kilgour
August 6th； 1916。
Did you ever have a sore hock？ I have one now； and Cruickshank puts bandages
on my leg。 He also washed my white socks for me。 I am glad you got
my picture。 My master is well； and the girls tell me I am looking well； too。
The ones I like best give me biscuits and sugar； and sometimes flowers。
One of them did not want to give me some mignonette the other day
because she said it would make me sick。 It did not make me sick。
Another one sends me bags of carrots。 If you don't know how to eat carrots；
tops and all； you had better learn； but I suppose you are just a boy；
and do not know how good oats are。
BONFIRE His * Mark。
* Here and later； this mark is that of a horse…shoe。 A。 L。； 1995。
From Bonfire to Sergt。…Major Jack Kilgour
October 1st； 1916。
Dear Jack；
Did you ever eat blackberries？ My master and I pick them every day
on the hedges。 I like twenty at a time。 My leg is better
but I have a lump on my tummy。 I went to see my doctor to…day；
and he says it is nothing at all。 I have another horse
staying in my stable now； he is black； and about half my size。
He does not keep me awake at night。 Yours truly；
BONFIRE His * Mark。
From Bonfire to Margaret Kilgour； Civilian
November 5th； 1916。
Dear Margaret：
This is Guy Fox Day！ I spell it that way because fox…hunting
was my occupation a long time ago before the war。 How are Sergt。…Major Jack
and Corporal David？ Ask Jack if he ever bites through his rope at night；
and gets into the oat…box。 And as for the Corporal； 〃I b