The same honour fell to Trooper H. E. Ramsden in this fight, for carrying his brother out of danger in very similar circumstances. The list of those who figured in gallant actions of this kind, indeed, is a long one. There was Second-Lieutenant John Norwood (now a captain), of the 5th Dragoon Guards, who while in charge of a small patrol party outside Ladysmith, in October 1899, was nearly cornered by the Boers. In retiring one of the troopers fell, whereupon the lieutenant, galloping back, dismounted, lifted the wounded man on to his shoulder, and with his horse’s bridle over his arm walked back to rejoin his comrades. And there was Lieutenant Sir John Milbanke of the 10th Hussars, who saved the life of one of his men while out on a reconnaissance near Colesberg. The lieutenant himself was badly wounded with a ball in his thigh, but disregarding this, he went to the aid of the wounded man, who was exposed to the Boer fire, and successfully brought him out of range. Both these heroes gained the V.C., as, too, did Private Bisdee and Lieutenant Wylly, of the Tasmanian Imperial Bushmen, for gallantry of a like order. Having run into an ambuscade, the scouting party of which the Tasmanians were members had to get out of it as best they could. The Boers from their cover kept up a hot fire, and men and horses dropped quickly. Out of the eight in the party all but two were hit, and one of the officers had his horse shot beneath him. Seeing his predicament, Private Bisdee offered him a stirrup leather to hold on to, but the other was more badly wounded than he had supposed. Jumping off his horse, therefore, he put his officer into the saddle, and mounting behind him, galloped out of action. Lieutenant Wylly in his turn gave up his horse to a wounded private, afterwards taking up a position behind a rock, and using his rifle to good purpose to cover the retreat of the little party. It does one good to read of heroism such as this, for it helps to keep alive our faith in those fine qualities which have made Englishmen what they are. If we still find something inspiring in the records of the old sea-dogs, such as Benbow, who was carried on deck in a basket after he had lost his leg, so that he might continue to direct the fight, we may treasure in our memories with no less reverence the deeds of many humbler heroes. There is about them, too, often enough, a truly British touch of dare-devilry, cheek, pluck--call it what you will--that cannot but strike one’s imagination.