Tristan gave me a single despairing look then squared his shoulders and
marched straight to his brother's room. I followed close on his heels.
Siegfried was worse. His face was red with fever and his eyes burned
deeply in their sockets. He didn't move when Tristan walked over to the
foot of the bed.
"Well, how did you get on?" The whisper was barely audible.
"Oh fine, the cow was on her feet when we left. But there's just one
thing I had a bit of a bump with the car."
Siegfried had been wheezing stertorously and staring at the ceiling but
the breathing stopped as if it had been switched off. There was an eerie
silence then from the completely motionless figure two strangled words
escaped. "What happened ."
"Wasn't my fault. Chap tried to overtake a lorry and didn't make it.
Caught one side of the Rover."
Again the silence and again the whisper.
"Much damage."
"Front and rear wings pretty well mangled, I'm afraid - and both doors
torn off the left side."
As if operated by a powerful spring, Siegfried came bolt upright in the
bed. It was startlingly like a corpse coming to life and the effect was
heightened by the coils of Thermogene which had burst loose and trailed
in shroud-like garlands from the haggard head. The mouth opened wide in
a completely soundless scream.
"You bloody fool! You're sacked."
He crashed back on to the pillow as though the mechanism had gone into
reverse and lay very still. We watched him for a few moments in some
anxiety, but when we heard the breathing restart we tiptoed from the
room.
On the landing Tristan blew out his cheeks and drew a Woodbine from its
packet. "A tricky little situation, Jim, but you know what I always
say." He struck a match and pulled the smoke down blissfully. "Things
usually turn out better than you expect."
Chapter Nine.
A lot of the Dales farms were anonymous and it was a help to find this
one so plainly identified. "Heston Grange' it said on the gate in bold
black capitals.
I got out of the car and undid the latch. It was a good gate, too, and
swung easily on its hinges instead of having to be dragged round with a
shoulder under ~ the top spar. The farmhouse lay below me, massive,
grey-stoned, with a pair I of bow windows which some prosperous
Victorian had added to the original structure.
It stood on a flat, green neck of land in a loop of the river and the
lushness of the grass and the quiet fertility of the surrounding fields
contrasted sharply with the stark hills behind. Towering oaks and
beeches sheltered the house and a thick pine wood covered the lower
slopes of the fell.
I walked round the buildings shouting as I always did, because some
people considered it a subtle insult to go to the house and ask if the
farmer was in. Good farmers are indoors only at meal times. But my
shouts drew no reply, so I went over and knocked at the door set deep
among the weathered stones.
A voice answered "Come in," and I opened the door into a huge,
stone-flagged kitchen with hams and sides of bacon hanging from hooks in
the ceiling. A dark girl in a check blouse and green linen slacks was
kneading dough in a bowl. She looked up and smiled.
"Sorry I couldn't let you in. I've got my hands full." She held up her
arms, floury-white to the elbow.
"That's all right. My name is Herriot. I've come to see a calf. It's
lame, I understand."
"Yes, we think he's broken his leg. Probably got his foot in a hole when
he was running about. If you don't mind waiting a minute, I'll come with
you. My father and the men are in the fields. I'm Helen Alderson, by the
way."
She washed and dried her arms and pulled on a pair of short wellingtons.
"Take over this bread will you, Meg," she said to an old woman who came
through from an inner room. "I have to show Mr. Herriot the calf."
Outside, she turned to me and laughed. "We've got a bit of a walk, I'm
afraid. He's in one of the top buildings. Look, you can just see it up
there." She pointed to a squat, stone barn, high on the fell-side. I
knew all about these top buildings; l they were scattered all over the
high country and I got a lot of healthy exercise I going round them.
They were used for storing hay and other things and as shelters for the
animals on the hill pastures.
I looked at the girl for a few seconds. "Oh, that's all right, I don't
mind. I don't mind in the least."
We went over the field to a narrow bridge spanning the river, and,
following her across, I was struck by a thought; this new fashion of
women wearing slacks might be a bit revolutionary but there was a lot to
be said for it. The path led upward through the pine wood and here the
sunshine was broken up into islands of brightness among the dark trunks,
the sound of the river grew faint and we walked softly on a thick carpet
of pine needles. It was cool in the wood and silent except when a bird
call echoed through the trees.
Ten minutes of hard walking brought us out again into the hot sun on the
open moor and the path curved steeper still round a series of rocky
outcrops. I was beginning to puff, but the girl kept up a brisk pace,
swinging along with easy strides. I was glad when we reached the level
ground on the top and the barn came in sight again.
When I opened the half door I could hardly see my patient in the dark
interior which was heavy with the fragrance of hay piled nearly to the
roof. He looked very small and sorry for himself with his dangling
foreleg which trailed uselessly along the strewed floor as he tried to
walk.
"Will you hold his head while I examine him, please?" I said.
The girl caught the calf expertly, one hand under its chin, the other
holding an ear. As I felt my way over the leg the little creature stood
trembling, his face a picture of woe.
"Well, your diagnosis was correct. Clean fracture of the radius and
ulna, but there's very little displacement so it should do well with a
plaster on it." I opened my bag, took out some plaster bandages then
filled a bucket with water from a near-by spring. I soaked one of the
bandages and applied it to the leg, following it with a second and a
third till the limb was encased in a rapidly hardening i .11
white sheath from elbow to foot.
"We'll just wait a couple of minutes till it hardens, then we can let
him go." I kept tapping the plaster till I was satisfied it was set like
stone. "All right," I said finally. "He can go now."
The girl released the head and the little animal trotted away. "Look."
she cried. "He's putting his weight on it already! And doesn't he look a
lot happier!" I smiled. I felt I had really done something. The calf
felt no pain now that the broken ends of the bone were immobilised; and
the fear which always demoralises a hurt animal had magically vanished.
"Yes," I said. "He certainly has perked up quickly." My words were
almost drowned by a tremendous bellow and the patch of blue above the
>
half door was suddenly obscured by a large shaggy head. Two great liquid
eyes stared down anxiously at the little calf and it answered with a
high-pitched bawl. Soon a deafening duet was in progress.
"That's his mother," the girl shouted above the din. "Poor old thing,
she's been hanging about here all morning wondering what we've done with
her calf. She hates being separated from him."
I straightened up and drew the bolt on the door. "Well she can come in
now."
The big cow almost knocked me down as she rushed past me. Then she
started a careful, sniffing inspection of her calf, pushing him around
with her muzzle and making muffled lowing noises deep in her throat.
The little creature submitted happily to all the fuss and when it was
over and his mother was finally satisfied, he limped round to her udder
and began to suck heartily.
"Soon got his appetite back," I said and we both laughed.
I threw the empty tins into my bag and closed it. "He'll have to keep
the plaster on for a month, so if you'll give me a ring then I'll come
back and take it off. Just keep an eye on him and make sure his leg
doesn't get sore round the top of the bandage."
As we left the barn the sunshine and the sweet warm air met us like a
high wave. I turned and looked across the valley to the soaring green
heights, smooth, enormous, hazy in the noon heat. Beneath my feet the
grassy slopes fell away steeply to where the river glimmered among the
trees.
"It's wonderful up here," I said. "Just look at that gorge over there.
And that great hill - I suppose you could call it a mountain." I pointed
at a giant which heaved its heather-mottled shoulders high above the
others.
"That's Heskit Fell - nearly two and a half thousand feet. And that's
Eddleton just beyond, and Wedder Fell on the other side and Colver and
Sennor." The names with their wild, Nordic ring fell easily from her
tongue; she spoke of them like old friends and I could sense the
affection in her voice.
We sat down on the warm grass of the hillside, a soft breeze pulled at
the heads of the moorland flowers, somewhere a curlew cried. Darrowby
and Skeldale House and veterinary practice seemed a thousand miles away.
"You're lucky to live here," I said. "But I don't think you need me to
tell you that."
"No, I love this country. There's nowhere else quite like it." She
paused and looked slowly around her. "I'm glad it appeals to you too - a
lot of people find it too bare and wild. It almost seems to frighten
them."
I laughed. "Yes, I know, but as far as I'm concerned I can't help
feeling sorry for all the thousands of vets who don't work in the
Yorkshire Dales."
I began to talk about my work, then almost without knowing, I was going
back over my student days, telling her of the good times, the friends I
had made and our hopes and aspirations.
I surprised myself with my flow of talk - I wasn't much of a chatterbox
usually - and I felt I must be boring my companion. But she sat quietly
looking over the valley, her arms around her green-clad legs, nodding at
times as though she understood. And she laughed in all the right places.
I wondered too, at the silly feeling that I would like to forget all
about the rest of the day's duty and stay up here on this sunny
hillside. It came to me that it had been a long time since I had sat
down and talked to a girl of my own age. I had almost forgotten what it
was like.
I didn't hurry back down the path and through the scented pine wood but
it seemed no time at all before we were walking across the wooden bridge
and over the field to the farm.
I turned with my hand on the car door. "Well, I'll see you in a month."
It sounded like an awful long time.
The girl smiled. "Thank you for what you've done." As I started the
engine she waved and went into the house.
"Helen Alderson?" Siegfried said later over lunch. "Of course I know
her. Lovely girl."
Tristan, across the table, made no comment, but he laid down his knife
and fork, raised his eyes reverently to the ceiling and gave a long, low
whistle. Then he started to eat again.
Siegfried went on. "Oh yes, I know her very well. And I admire her. Her
mother died a few years ago and she runs the whole place. Cooks and
looks after her father and a younger brother and sister." He spooned
some mashed potatoes on to his plate. "Any men friends? Oh, half the
young bloods in the district are chasing her but she doesn't seem to be
going steady with any of them. Choosy sort, I think."
,, i Chapter Ten.
It was when I was plodding up Mr. Kay's field for the ninth time that it
began to occur to me that this wasn't going to be my day. For some time
now I had been an LVI, the important owner of a little certificate
informing whosoever it may concern that James Herriot MRCVS was a Local
Veterinary Inspector of the Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries. It
meant that I was involved in a lot of routine work like clinical
examinations and tuberculin testing. It also highlighted something which
I had been suspecting for some time - the Dales farmers' attitude to
time was different from my own.
It had been all right when I was calling on them to see a sick animal;
they were usually around waiting for me and the beast would be confined
in some building when I arrived. It was very different, however, when I
sent them a card saying I was coming to inspect their dairy cows or test
their herd. It stated quite clearly on the card that the animals must be
assembled indoors and that I would be there at a certain time and I
planned my day accordingly; fifteen minutes or so for a clinical and
anything up to several hours for a test depending on the size of the
herd. If I was kept waiting for ten minutes at every clinical while they
got the cows in from the field it meant simply that after six visits I
was running an hour late.
So when I drove up to Mr. Kay's farm for a tuberculin test and found his
cows tied up in their stalls I breathed a sigh of relief. We were
through them in no time at all and I thought I was having a wonderful
start to the day when the farmer said he had only half a dozen young
heifers to do to complete the job. It was when I left the buildings and
saw the group of shaggy roans and reds grazing contentedly at the far
end of a large field that I felt the old foreboding.
"I thought you'd have them inside, Mr. Kay," I said apprehensively.
Mr. Kay tapped out his pipe on to his palm, mixed the sodden dottle with
a few strands of villainous looking twist and crammed it back into the
bowl. "Nay, nay," he said, puffing appreciatively, "Ah didn't like to
put them in on a grand 'ot day like this. We'll drive them up to that
little house." He pointed to a tumbledown grey-stone barn at the summit
of the long, steeply sloping pasture and blew out a cloud of choking
smoke. twon't take many minutes."
At his last sentence a cold hand clutched at me. I'd heard these r />
dreadful words so many times before. But maybe it would be all right
this time. We made our way to the bottom of the field and got behind the
heifers.
"Cush, cush!" cried Mr. Kay.
"Cush, cush!" I added encouragingly, slapping my hands against my
thighs.
The heifers stopped pulling the grass and regarded us with mild
interest, their jaws moving lazily, then in response to further cries
they began to meander casually up the hill. We managed to coax them up
to the door of the barn but there they stopped. The leader put her head
inside for a moment then turned suddenly and made a dash down the hill.
The others followed suit immediately and though we danced about and
waved our arms they ran past us as if we weren't there. I looked
thoughtfully at the young beasts thundering down the slope, their tails
high, kicking up their heels like mustangs; they were enjoying this new
game.
Down the hill once more and again the slow wheedling up to the door and
again the sudden breakaway. This time one of them tried it on her own
and as I galloped vainly to and fro trying to turn her the others
charged with glee through the gap and down the slope again.
It was a long, steep hill and as I trudged up for the third time with
the sun blazing on my back I began to regret being so conscientious
about my clothes; in the instructions to the new LVI's the Ministry had
been explicit that they expected us to be properly attired to carry out
our duties. I had taken it to heart and rigged myself out in the
required uniform but I realised now that a long oilskin coat and
wellingtons was not an ideal outfit for the job in hand. The sweat was
trickling into my eyes and my shirt was beginning to cling to me.
When, for the third time, I saw the retreating backs careering joyously
down the hill, I thought it was time to do something about it.
"Just a minute," I called to the farmer, "I'm getting a bit warm."
I took off the coat, rolled it up and placed it on the grass well away
from the barn. And as I made a neat pile of my syringe, the box of
tuberculin, my calipers, scissors, notebook and pencil, the thought kept
intruding that I was being cheated in some way. After all, Ministry work
was easy - any practitioner would tell you that. You didn't have to get
up in the middle of the night, you had nice set hours and you never
really had to exert yourself. In fact it was money for old rope - a
pleasant relaxation from the real thing. I wiped my streaming brow and
stood for a few seconds panting gently - this just wasn't fair.
We started again and at the fourth visit to the barn I thought we had
won because all but one of the heifers strolled casually inside. But
that last one just wouldn't have it. We cushed imploringly, waved and
even got near enough to poke at its rump but it stood in the entrance
regarding the interior with deep suspicion. Then the heads of its mates
began to reappear in the doorway and I knew we had lost again; despite
my frantic dancing and shouting they wandered out one by one before
joining again in their happy downhill dash. This time I found myself
galloping down after them in an agony of frustration.
We had another few tries during which the heifers introduced touches of
variation by sometimes breaking away half way up the hill or
occasionally trotting round the back of the barn and peeping at us coyly
from behind the old stones before frisking to the bottom again.
After the eighth descent I looked appealingly at Mr. Kay who was
relighting his pipe calmly and didn't appear to be troubled in any way.
My time schedule was in tatters but I don't think he had noticed that we
had been going on like this for about forty minutes.