bull in the vain hope that I might frighten him back whence he came; and
the only thing that kept me there was the knowledge that every inch he
scrambled out was taking me further from Mr$ Hodgson's glorious supper.
I stood my ground until the snorting, bellowing creature was two thirds
over, hanging grotesquely with the top of the door digging deep into his
abdomen, then with a final plunge he was into the yard and I ran for
cover. But the bull was not bent on mischief; he took one look at the
open gate into the field and thundered through it like an express train.
From behind a stack of milk churns I watched sadly as he curveted
joyously over the grass, revelling in his new found freedom. Bucking and
kicking, tail in the air he headed for the far horizon where the wide
pasture dipped to a beck which wandered along the floor of a shallow
depression. And as he disappeared over the brow of the hill the last
hope of my spareribs went with him.
"It'll tek us an hour to catch that bugger,' grunted Ernest gloomily.
I looked at my watch. Half past six. The bitter injustice of the whole
thing overwhelmed me and I set up a wail of lamentation.
"Yes, dammit, and I've got an appointment in Darrowby at seven o'clock!'
I stamped over the cobbles for a moment or two then swung round on old
Ted. "I'll never make it now ... I'll have to ring my wife .. . have you
got a phone?'
Ted's drawl was lazier than ever. "Nay, we 'aven't got no phone. Ah
don't believe in them things.' He fished out a tobacco tin from his
pocket, unscrewed the lid and produced a battered timepiece which he
scrutinised without haste. "Any road, there's nowt to stop ye bein' back
i' Darrowby by seven.'
"But .. . but .. . that's impossible .. . and I can't keep these people
waiting .. . I must get to a phone.'
"Doan't get s'flustered, young man.' The old man's long face creased
into a soothing smile. "Ah tell ye you won't be late.'
I waved my arms around. "But he's just said it'll take an hour to catch
that bull!'
"Fiddlesticks! Ernest allus talks like that ... miserable Ah'll get bull
in i' five minutes.'
"Five minutes! That's ridiculous! I'll .. . I'll drive down the road to
the nearest phone box while you're catching him.'
"You'll do nowt of t'sort, lad.' Ted pointed to a stone water trough
against the wall. "Go and sit thissen down and think of summat else .
.. ah'll only be five minutes.'
Wearily I sank on to the rough surface and buried my face in my hands.
When I looked up the old man was coming out of the byre and in front of
him ambled a venerable cow. By the number of rings on the long curving
horns she must have been well into her teens; the gaunt pelvic bones
stood out like a hatstand and underneath her a pendulous udder almost
touched the ground.
"Get out there awd lass,' Ted said and the old cow trotted into the
field, her udder swinging gently at each step. I watched her until she
had disappeared over the hill, then turned to see Ted throwing cattle
cake into a bucket.
He strolled through the gate and as I gazed uncomprehendingly he began
to beat the bucket with a stick. At the same time he raised his voice in
a reedy tenor and called out across the long stretch of green.
"Cush, cush!' he cried. "Cush, pet, cush!'
Almost immediately the cow reappeared over the brow and just behind her
the bull. I looked with wonder as Ted banged on his bucket and the cow
broke into a stiff gallop with my patient close by her side. When she
reached the old man she plunged her head in among the cake while the
bull, though he was as big as she, pushed his nose underneath her and
seized one of her teats in his great mouth. It was an absurd sight but
she didn't seem to mind as the big animal, almost on his knees, sucked
away placidly.
In fact it was like a soothing potion because when the cow was led
inside he followed; and he made no complaint as I slipped the ring in
his nose and fastened it with the screw which mercifully had survived
inside Herbert's cap.
"Quarter to seven!' I panted happily as I jumped into the driving seat.
"I'll get there in time now.' I could see Helen and me standing on the
Hodgson's step and the door opening and the heavenly scent of the
spareribs and onions drifting out from the kitchen.
I looked again at the scarecrow figure with that hat brim drooping over
the calm eyes. "You did a wonderful job there, Mr Buckle. I wouldn't
have believed it if I hadn't seen it. It was amazing how that bull
followed the cow in like that.'
The old man smiled and I had a sudden surging impression of the wisdom
in that quiet mind.
"There's nowt amazint about it, lad, it's most nat'ral thing in "'world.
That's is mother ~
Chapter Thirty-two.
I slowed down and gazed along the farm lane. That was Tristan's car
parked against the byre and inside, behind that green door, he was
calving a cow. Because Tristan's student days were over. He was a fully
fledged veterinary surgeon now and the great world of animal doctoring
with all its realities stretched ahead.
Not for long, though, because like many others he was bound for the army
and would leave soon after myself. But it wouldn't be so bad for Tristan
because at least he would be doing his own job. When Siegfried and I had
volunteered for service there had been no need for our profession in the
army so we had gone into RAF aircrew which was the only branch open to
our 'reserved occupation'. But when it came to Tristan's turn the
fighting had escalated in the far east and they were crying out for vets
to doctor the horses, mules, cattle, camels.
The timing suggested that the Gods were looking after him as usual. In
fact I think the Gods love people like Tristan who sway effortlessly
before the winds of fate and spring back with a smile, looking on life
always with blithe optimism. Anyway it seemed natural and inevitable
that whereas Siegfried and I as second class aircraftmen pounded the
parade ground for weary hours Captain Tristan Farnon sailed off to the
war in style.
But in the meantime I was glad of his help. After my departure he would
run things with the aid of an assistant, then, when he left, the
practice would be in the hands of two strangers till we returned. It
seemed strange but everything was impermanent at that time.
I drew up and looked thoughtfully at the car. This was Mark Dowson's
place and when I had rung the surgery from out in the country Helen told
me about this calving. I didn't want to butt in and fuss but I couldn't
help wondering how Tristan was getting on, because Mr Dowson was a dour,
taciturn character who wouldn't hesitate to come down on a young man if
things went wrong.
Still, I hadn't anything to worry about because since he qualified
Tristan was doing fine. The farmers had always liked him during his
sporadic visits as a student but now that he was on the job regularly
the good reports were coming in thick and fast.
"I'll tell the, that young feller does work! Doesn't spare 'himself,' or
"Ah've never seen a lad put his 'eart and soul into his job like this
'un.' And one man drew me to one side and muttered, "He meks some queer
noises but he does try. I think he'd kill 'isself afore he'd give up.'
That last remark made me think. Tristan's forte was certainly not brute
effort and I had been a bit bewildered at some of the comments till I
began to remember some of my experiences with him in his student days.
He had always applied his acute intelligence to any situation in his own
particular way and the way he reacted to the little accidents of country
practice led me to believe he was operating a system.
the first time I saw this in action was when he was standing by the side
of ;~watching me pulling milk from a teat. Without warning the animal
swung so~ ~brought an unyielding cloven hoof down on his foot. This is a
common and fairly agonising experience and before the days of
steel-tipped wellingtons I have frequently had the skin removed from my
toes in neat parchment-like rolls. When it happened to me I was inclined
to hop around and swear a bit and my performance was usually greeted
with appreciative laughter from the farmers. Tristan, however, handled
it differently.
He gasped, leaned with bowed head against the cow's pelvic bone for a
moment then opened his mouth wide and emitted a long groan. Then, as the
cowman and I stared at him, he reeled over the cobbles dragging a
damaged limb uselessly behind him. Arrived at the far wall he collapsed
against it, face on the stone, still moaning pitifully.
Thoroughly alarmed, I rushed to his aid. This must be a fracture and
already my mind was busy with plans to get him to hospital with all
possible speed. But he revived rapidly and when we left the byre ten
minutes later he was tripping along with no trace of a limp. And I did
notice one thing; nobody had laughed at him, he had received only
sympathy and commiseration.
This sort of thing happened on other places. He sustained a few mild
kicks, he was crushed between cows, he met with many of the discomforts
which are part of our life and he reacted in the same histrionic way.
And how it paid off! To a man, the farmers exhibited the deepest concern
when he went into his act and there was something more; it actually
improved his image. I was pleased about that because impressing
Yorkshire farmers isn't the easiest task and if Tristan's method worked
it was all right with me.
But I smiled to myself as I sat outside the farm. I couldn't see Mr
Dowson being affected by any sign of suffering. I had had my knocks
there in the past and he obviously hadn't cared a damn.
On an impulse I drove down the lane and walked into the byre. Tristan
stripped off and soaped, was just inserting an arm into a large red cow
while the farmer, pipe in hand, was holding the tail. My colleague
greeted me with a pleasant smile but Mr Dowson just nodded curtly.
"What have you got, Triss?' I asked.
"Both legs back,' he replied. "And they're a long way in. Look at the
length of her pelvis.'
I knew what he meant. It wasn't a difficult presentation but it could be
uncomfortable in these long cows. I leaned back against the wall; I
might as well see how he fared.
He braced himself and reached as far forward as he could, and just then
the cow's flanks bulged as she strained hard against him. This is never
very nice; the powerful contractions of the uterus squeeze the arm
relentlessly between calf and pelvis and you have to grit your teeth
till it passes off.
Tristan, however, went a little further.
"Ooh! Aah! Ouch!' he cried. Then as the animal still kept up the
pressure he went into a gasping groan. When she finally relaxed he stood
there quite motionless for a few seconds, his head hanging down as
though the experience had drained him of all his strength.
The farmer drew on his pipe and regarded him impassively. Throughout the
years I had known Mr Dowson I had never seen any particular emotion
portrayed in those hard eyes and craggy features. In fact it had always
seemed to me that I could have dropped down dead in front of him and he
wouldn't even blink.
My colleague continued his struggle and the cow, entering into the
spirit of the game, fought back with a will. Some animals will stand
quietly and submit to all kinds of internal interference but this was a
strainer; every movement of the arm within her was answered by a violent
expulsive effort. I had been through it a hundred times and I could
almost feel the grinding pressure on the wrist, the helpless numbing of
the fingers.
Tristan showed what he thought about it all by a series of heartrending
sounds. His repertoire was truly astounding and he ranged from long
harrowing moans through shrill squeals to an almost tearful whimpering.
At first Mr Dowson appeared oblivious to the whole business, puffing
smoke, glancing occasionally through the byre door, scratching at the
bristle on his chin. But as the minutes passed his eyes were dragged
more and more to the suffering creature before him until his whole
attention was riveted on the young man.
And in truth he was worth watching because Tristan added to his vocal
performance an extraordinary display of facial contortions. He sucked in
his cheeks, rolled his eyes, twisted his lips, did everything in fact
but wiggle his ears. And there was no doubt he was getting through to Mr
Dowson. As the noises and grimaces became more extravagant the farmer
showed signs of growing uneasiness; he darted anxious glances at my
colleague and occasionally his pipe trembled violently. Like me, he
clearly thought some dreadful climax was at hand.
As if trying to bring matters to a head the cow started to build up to a
supreme effort. She straddled her legs wide, grunted deeply and went
into a prolonged heave. As her back arched Tristan opened his mouth wide
in a soundless protest then little panting cries began to escape him.
This, I thought, was his most effective ploy yet; a long drawn "Aah .. .
aah .. . aah .. .' creeping gradually up the scale and building
increasing tension in his audience. My toes were curling with
apprehension when, with superb timing, he released a sudden piercing
scream.
That was when Mr Dowson cracked. His pipe had almost wobbled from his
mouth but now he stuffed it into his pocket and rushed to Tristan's
side.
"Ista all right, young man?'he enquired hoarsely.
My colleague, his face a mask of anguish did not reply.
The farmer tried again. "Wil~ -' ~ cup o' tea?' For a moment Tristan,
eyes closed, he nodded dumbly. Mr D^-vre and within minutes returned 'ce
my head to dispel the feeling e hard-bitten farmer feeding the ~ ~ ~ ~
c:~ head in a horny hand. Tristan s ~ ~c~ ~, -~ ~ ~;cious with pain but
submitting j: ~, cr ~ ~ ~ ~j 0~ -calf's legs and as he tdopped doing .~
~ ~$ ~ ~ ~ ~ '. `-~other long gulp of tea. After student bu t; ti ~OS2,
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ leg and the calf itself soon in thick and e -o ~i ~ ,- ~ ~od ~
~ `;
Chapter Thirty-three.
r Tristan collapsed on his rds a pile of hay, prepared "Get in 'ere and
wisp this to "'house, lad, and have xed disbelievingly as my the aid of
several stiff nt like this and a wave th adopting Tristan's ~ .
It was strange, but somehow the labels on the calves' backs made them
look even more pathetic, the auction mart labels stuck roughly with
paste on the hairy rumps, stressing the little creatures' role as
helpless merchandise.
As I lifted one sodden tail and inserted the thermometer a thin whitish
diarrhoea trickled from the rectum and streamed down the thighs and
hocks.
"It's the old story, I'm afraid Mr Clark,' I said.
The farmer shrugged and dug his thumbs under his braces. In the blue
overalls and peaked porter's cap he always wore he didn't look much like
a farmer and for that matter this place did not greatly resemble a farm;
the calves were in a converted railway wagon and all around lay a weird
conglomeration of rusting agricultural implements, pieces of derelict
cars, broken chairs. "Aye, it's a beggar isn't it? I wish I didn't have
to buy calves in markets but you can't always find 'em on t'farms when
you want them. This lot looked all right when I got them two days
since.'
"I'm sure they did.' I looked at the five calves, arch-backed,
trembling, miserable. "But they've had a tough time and it's showing
now. Taken from their mothers at a week old, carted for miles in a
draughty wagon, standing for most of the day at the mart then the final
journey here on a cold afternoon. They didn't have a chance.'
"Well ah gave them a good bellyful of milk as soon as they came. They
looked a bit starved and ah thought it would warm them up.'
"Yes, you'd think it would, Mr Clark, but really their stomachs weren't
in a fit state to accept rich food like that when they were cold and
tired. Next time if I were you I'd just give them a drink of warm water
with maybe a little glucose and make them comfortable till next day.'
"White scour' they called it. It killed countless thousands of calves
every year and the name always sent a chill through me because the
mortality rate was depressingly high.
I gave each of them a shot of E cold antiserum. Most authorities said it
did no good and I was inclined to agree with them. Then I rummaged in my
car boot and produced a packet of our astringent powders of chalk, opium
and catechu.
"Here, give them one of these three times a day, Mr Clark,' I said. I
tried to sound cheerful but I'm sure my tone lacked conviction.
Whiskered veterinary surgeons in top hats and tail coats had been
prescribing chalk, opium and catechu a hundred years ago and though it
might have been helpful in mild diarrhoea it was almost useless against
the lethal bacterial enteritis of white scour. It was a waste of time
just trying to dry up the diarrhoea; what was wanted was a drug which
would knock out the vicious bugs which caused it, but there wasn't such
a thing around.
However there was one thing which we vets of those days used to do which
is sometimes neglected since the arrival of the modern drugs; we
attended to the comfort and nursing of the animals. The farmer and I
wrapped each calf in a big sack which went right round its body and was
fastened with binder twine round the ribs, in front of the brisket and
under the tail. Then I fussed round the shed, plugging up draught holes,
putting up a screen of straw bales between the calves and the door.
Before I left I took a last look at them; there was no doubt they were
warm and sheltered now. They would need every bit of help with only my
Vet in Harness Page 24
