BOB.
-1L1ROB time immemorial every Fire Brigade dog has been named _I: Bob, and Bob of the London Salvage Corps was no exception to the thle. The story of his parentage and early puppyhood is a blank. All that is known is that about ten years ago he " turned up on his own" at Headquarters, an ungainly black puppy. The fact that he was black no doubt impressed the perhaps superstitious sea- faring minds of the kind-hearted firemen, whose new station had but lecently been opened after rebuilding, and Bob was made welcome. His conduct was found to be exemplary, and the course of a few weeks justified his promotion from an auxiliary to a recognized Position on the permanent strength of the station.
As the men said, " learning came very easy to Bob." He only bed to be shown what was wanted and he did it. Some dogs require infinite natience before they will leant to close doors and perform
ordinary canine tricks, but Bob had no difficulty in mastering much more trying tasks. As a puppy lie ascended and descended ladders. stamped out matches thrown down by careless smokers, and did many feats beyond the scope of his less intelligent canine brethren. He always appeared, however, when asked to perform any specific, trick before strangers, to be somewhat bored, and with the very good reason that he felt ho had a far more serious mission in life. Real fires were his job, ho seamed to say, and never was there a greater enthusiast than he.
Bob attended probably more fires than any other dog in the world. For ten years he was at practically every outbreak in the City of London, besides many in the suburbs. Ho was the means of giving the warning to turn out earlier than the official warning could be made, thus saving much valuable time. This gift he acquired and developed himself, as shall be explained. The nearest Fire Brigade station to the Salvage Headquarters is in Cannon Street, a distance of over a hundred and twenty-five yards separating the two premises, a couple of blocks of buildings intervening. Now when a street fire alarm is pulled in the City an electric bell is rung at the Cannon Street Station, and, the Headquarters in Southwark having been notified by telephone that such-and-such an alarm has been given, a similar message is sent to the Salvage Corps All this of course takes some few seconds. But Bob, with more acute hearing than his masters, could above the noise and din of City traffic always detect the first bell at Cannon Street. He knew then that there was business in hand. Consequently he would bark in a peculiar and characteristic tone, at the same time running from front to bre* of his station, so that the men always said: "Cannon Street bell has gone down," and hastened to prepare for their own bell to "go down" for a turn out. Many will remember having 89311 Bob running ahead of the Salvage Corps traps, cheerily barking as if urging the splendid horses on to greater speed. Upon arrival at the scene of the fire ho felt his place was with the men., and regardless of all danger he strove to fight the common enemy. Some readers may have seen hint at the conclusion of operations, pending the order to return, taking a brief rest, lying by the traps, soaked with water and covered with sawdust, with an air about him as if he said : " We have done all that can be done, and the enemy is overcome."
Though he was injured many times, he never abated his love of his calling. Sometimes the police would telephone that Bob had come in injured, for he was on visiting terms at all City polies stations, and knew where he could find friends. He seemed to dislike giving his own people any trouble lost he should interfere with the progress of their urgent duties, but the writer has seen him when knocked out by falling glass, one of the common risks, tenderly lifted into a ear and sent off to the veterinary surgeon. He thoroughly appreciated discipline, and when the men women parade he kept his place, near, but a few paces behind, the officer on duty. At 9 pan., when the roll was called, be was most zealous in his attendance, and signalled the order to dismiss with a bark of pleasure, as much as to say " That completes our day ; now for the night watch !"
Bob's knowledge of the City was extraordinary, as was his inti- macy with all that concerned the doings of the Corps. A few months ago there was anxiety at Headquarters because he had been missed shortly after roll-call on Saturday night, and early on Sunday morning a stranger brought in his nickel collar, much bloodstained, and reported having found it somewhere in the Caswell Road district. A trap was accordingly sent out to scour that area, because it was reasoned that if Bob had any breath left in his body he would answer to the sleigh bells on the horses' collars. Sure enough he did. It appeared he had been attacked by other dogs and severely mauled ; too weak to return to his station, he knew a man had been left on duty a few days before at the ruins of a fire somewhere near, and to that place he dragged himself.
The question will be asked, "What kind of a dog was he ?" Tim answer is that he was " a black dog." The writer once heard the point pressed further by an inquirer, certainly in a very civil tone and with no intent to cast any reflection upon the mystery of Bob's parentage, for that would never have been tolerated ; but the reply was that lie was " a proper Fire Station dog." For the information of those who do not go into the City of London, it may be said that he was about the build and weight of a full-sized Dalmatian, with short but very thick cost. He was always well groomed, but never- theless to pat him was like patting a horse that had been turned out at grass for some months. This parallel must have struck a well- meaning but foolish coachman attached to the Corps some years ago, to whom it occurred that the clipping machine might be tried with advantage. The man was " paid off " the same day. Every Saturday evening Bob was bathed, and although he submitted, it was believed he thoroughly disliked the ordeal ; yet be realized it was Part of the system in a place where everything is always spick and span, but *here on Sunday mornings particularly, as on board ship, the whole
place must be pervaded with odours of yesterday's soap, metal- polish, and spring cleaning. It must not be imagined that he dis- liked enter ; on the contrary, at many fires, in his tour of inspection he would swim through flooded basements or cellars. It was curious that he always preferred to drink direct from a running tap rather than from standing water. He would stand near and bark at a tap for some one to turn it cm. Perhaps he reckoned, with the strenuous life he led, it was saving time compared with the more leisurely ordinary dog-lapping.
But what service could a dog render at a firs'. Ti is somewhat difficult to answer, yet any member of the Corps could tell of some useful work, while the older men would say Bob was a first-rate hand to accompany one. In groping at night in a smoke-choked rambling building laden with merchandise, the intuitive knowledge of such a dog as to the position of staircases is a great asset, and, being nearer the floor line, a dog is less affected by the smoke and heat. Came, Bob, we most get out of this for a bit," would he said when the fire was momentarily getting the upper hand, and Bob would show a temporary line of retreat. If the truth could be known, there is little doubt but that more than one brave fellow owes his life to old Bob. Moreover, he guarded premises against looting by evil-disposed persons and watched the property of his owners the fire-fighters. Rats too were of course an abomination to him, and in a waterside fire the eats of the establishment would flee at the first alarm, leaving Bob to account for as many rats in an hour as a professional rat- catcher could secure in a week's work. But for him these posts would have merely shifted their habitation and continued their terrible ravages of the nation's food supply.
All firemen he loved, for all policemen he bad reflection, for all sailors, soldiers, postmen, and others in uniform he had respect, but more ordinary civilians he looked upon with contempt mingled with pity for their helplessness. To air raids he was absolutely indifferent, except that he knew from experience that fire occasionally followed and he must keep his oars on the alert for an alarm.
The 9th of October, 1917, was a sad day at all stations, for Head- quarters sent out the message that Bob had gone to his long and
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