"Our men," the General said on another occasion, "would always follow wherever their officers led--I know this to have been the case with mine, and have also seen it in other instances." And as Putnam's record had long since proved that he always led, and asked no man to approach nearer the foe than he himself was willing to go, the soldiers were enthusiastic for "Old Wolf Put," the fighter, though lukewarm in their feelings toward the commander. They did not admire the methods Putnam employed to keep them out of mischief--these raw and undisciplined militia, accustomed to do as they liked and to take orders from no man--for he kept them actively employed all the time. "It is better to dig a ditch every morning, and fill it up at evening, than to have the men idle," said Old Put, and though the men grumbled the results soon showed that he was right. What they also needed more than anything else was confidence, and, in order to inspire that, he paraded some two thousand of them through Charlestown over the hills soon to become world-famous, and right in sight of the enemy. He did this several times, and on one occasion took with him his son Daniel, who wrote of it afterward: "I felt proud to be numbered among what I then thought to be a mighty host destined for some great enterprise." Daniel was then only fifteen years of age, yet he performed a man's work, proving himself worthy of his parentage, and was his father's aide-de-camp and companion. During the progress of the battle at Bunker Hill he acted as the guard and defender of a British refugee's wife and family, and stoutly did his duty, boy that he was. Perhaps the highest tribute paid to Putnam's prowess was the offer of his old-time friend and comrade, General Gage, the British commander-in-chief, to pay him a large sum of money, and secure him a major-generalcy in the British army, if he would desert the "rebel" cause and come over to that of the King. Putnam spurned this offer, of course, as did sturdy Colonel Stark, another comrade of the Indian wars, and several others. He was all the more active, if possible, in seeking out the enemy's weak points and in attempts to reduce his supplies. An opportunity offered, some time in the last week of May, both to annoy the enemy and gain substantial recompense for a somewhat hazardous adventure. Several hundred sheep and cattle were in pasture on Hog and Noddles islands (the latter now East Boston), and as it was feared that the British might secure them before the Colonials did, a small force was sent to drive them to the mainland. It was sent by Putnam, whose great and burning desire for a "brush" with the enemy was now about to be gratified, and as a party of marines on guard over the live-stock fired on the Americans, Putnam hastened to their rescue with a larger force.