Page 3 of Vet in a Spin

a prickling at the back of my neck to think about it.

  I could hardly wait to get the injection into the sow and climbed

  eagerly into the pen. Gertrude didn't appreciate having a needle

  rammed into her thigh and she swung round on me with an explosive bark.

  But I got the ten cc in before ma king my escape "We just wait twenty

  minutes, then?" Will Hollin leaned on the rail and looked down

  anxiously at his pig. He was a hard-working small holder in his

  fifties and I knew this meant a lot to him.

  I was about to make a comforting reply when Gertrude popped out another

  pink, squirming piglet. The farmer leaned over and gently nudged the

  little creature towards the udder as the sow lay on her side, but as

  soon as the nose made contact with the teat the big pig was up in a

  flash, all growls and yellow teeth.

  He snatched the piglet away quickly and deposited it with the others in

  a tall cardboard box.

  "Well, you see how it is, Mr Herriot."

  "I certainly do. How many have you got in there now?"

  "There's six. And they're grand pigs, too."

  I peered into the box at the little animals. They all had the

  classical long bodied shape.

  "Yes, they are. And she looks as though she has a lot more in her

  yet."

  The farmer nodded and we waited.

  It seemed to take a long time for the twenty minutes to pass but

  finally I lifted a couple of piglets and clambered into the pen. I was

  about to put them to the sow when one of them squealed. Gertrude

  rushed across with a ferocious roar mouth gaping, and I leaped to

  safety with an agility which surprised me.

  "She don't look very sleepy," Mr Hollin said.

  "No . . . no . . . she doesn't, does she? Maybe we'd better wait a

  bit longer."

  We gave her another ten minutes and tried again with the same result. I

  injected a further ten cc of the Soothitt, then about an hour later a

  third one.

  By nine o'clock Gertrude had produced fifteen beautiful young pigs and

  had chased me and her family from the pen six times. She was, if

  anything, livelier and fiercer than when I started.

  "Well, she's cleansed," Mr Hollin said gloomily.

  "So it looks like she's finished."

  He gazed, sad-faced, into the box.

  "And now I've got fifteen pigs to rear without their mother's milk. I

  could lose all this lot."

  "Nay, nay." The voice came from the open doorway.

  "You won't lose 'em."

  I looked round. It was Grand ad Hollin, his puckish features set in

  their customary smile. He marched to the pen and poked Gertrude's ribs

  with his stick.

  She responded with a snarl and a malignant glare and the old man's

  smile grew broader.

  "Ah'll soon fettle the awd beggar," he said.

  'fettle her?" I shifted my feet uncomfortably.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why, she just wants quiet in', the knaws."

  I took a long breath.

  "Yes, Mr Hollin, that's exactly what I've been trying to do., "Aye, but

  you're not coin' it the right way, young man."

  I looked at him narrowly. The know-all with his liberal advice in a

  difficult situation is a familiar figure most veterinary surgeons have

  to tolerate, but in grand ad Hollin's case I didn't feel the usual

  irritation. I liked him. He was a 0"Ce man, the head of a fine

  family. Will was the eldest of his four sons and he had several farmer

  grandsons in the district.

  &` Anyway' I had failed miserably. I was in no position to be

  uppity.

  Vet in a Spzn "Well, I've given her the latest injection," I mumbled.

  He shook his head.

  "She don't want injections, she wants beer."

  "Eh ?"

  "Beer, young man. A drop o' good ale." He turned to his son.

  "Haste g.

  clean bucket, Will, lad?"

  "Aye, there's a new-scalded one in t'milk house."

  "Right, ah'll slip down to the pub. Won't be long." Grand ad swung on

  his heel and strode briskly into the night. He must have been around

  eighty, from the back he looked like a twenty-five-year-old upright,

  square-shouldered jaunty.

  Will Hollin and I didn't have much to say to each other. He was sullen

  with disappointment and I was awash with shame. It was a relief when

  Grand ad returned bearing an enamel bucket brimming with brown

  liquid.

  "By gaw," he chuckled.

  "You should've seen their faces down at t"Wago Horses. Reckon they've

  never heard of a two gallon order afore."

  I gaped at him.

  "You've got two gallons of beer?"

  "That's right, young man, and she'll need it all." He turned again to

  his I "She hasn't had a drink for a bit, has she, Will?" ~ "New I was

  goin' to give her some water when she'd finished piggin', b .

  haven't done it yet."

  Grand ad poised his bucket.

  "She'll be nice and thirsty, then." He leaned ~ the rail and sent a

  dark cascade frothing into the empty trough. .

  Gertrude ambled moodily across and sniffed at the st range fluid.

  After ~j hesitation she dipped her snout and tried a tentative swallow,

  and within seoq' the building echoed with a busy slobbering.

  "By heck, she likes it!" Will exclaimed.

  "She should," Grand ad murmured wistfully.

  "It's John Smith's best bit, It took a big sow a surprisingly short

  time to consume the two gallons when she had finished she licked out

  every corner of the trough before turning away. She showed no

  inclination to return to her straw bed but began to sa round the pen.

  Now and then she stopped at the trough to check that the' no more beer

  in it and from time to time she looked up at the three overhanging the

  timber walls.

  On one of these occasions I caught her eye and saw with a sense of

  dread that the previously baleful little orb now registered only a

  gentle benevolence In fact with a little effort I could have imagined

  she was smiling.

  As the minutes passed her perambulations became increasingly

  erratic."

  were times when she stumbled and almost fell and finally with an

  unmistakable hiccup she flopped on the straw and rolled on to her

  side.

  Grand ad regarded her expressionlessly for a few moments, whistling

  lessly, then he reached out again and pushed his stick against the

  fleshy but t' only response he received from the motionless animal was

  a soft `r ret ~ was stoned to the wide.

  ~_ an gestured towards the cardboard box.

  "Put the little 'uns in into the pen with a wriggling armful, then

  another, andes they didn't have to be told what to do. Fifteen rave

  noun
  ~%, to bring about with my modern veterinary skill, thbl It~o, +, ~;

  tiny stomachs with the life-giving fluid.

  I could dise~ ~
  morning along ale. I didn't feel great. ~ Mr Barge had been >, o~ `x

  of Soothitt phials and was beating an unol' -. NHollin called after

  me.

  Vet in a Spin ~come in and
have a cup o' coffee afore you go, Mr Her

  riot." His voice was friendly, with nothing to suggest that I had made

  no useful contribution all e I made my way into the kitchen and as I

  went over to the table Will dug me in the ribs.

  ~Hey look at this." He held out the bucket in which a quantity of the

  good beer still sloshed around the bottom.

  "There's sum mat better than coffee 'ere Enough for a couple of good

  drinks. I'll get two glasses."

  He was fumbling in the dresser when Grand ad walked in. The old man

  hung his hat and stick on a hook on the wall and rubbed his hands.

  tTha can get another glass out, Will," he said.

  "Remember ah did the pour in' and ah left enough for three."

  Next morning I might have been inclined to dwell despondently on my

  chastening experience but I had a pre-breakfast call to a cow with a

  prolapsed uterus and there is nothing like an hour of feverish activity

  to rid the mind of brooding.

  It was 8 a.m. when I drove back into Darrow by and I pulled in to the

  market place petrol station which was just opening. With a pleasantly

  blank mind I was watching Bob Cooper running the petrol into my tank

  when I heard the sound in the distance.

  "Hooo, hooo, hooo, hooo."

  Tremblingly I sc anned the square. There was no other vehicle in sight

  but the dread ululation approached inexorably until Mr Beresford's car

  rounded the far corner, heading my way.

  I shrank behind a petrol pump but it was of no avail. I had been

  spotted and the car bumped over the strip of cobbles before screeching

  to a halt beside me.

  "Hooo, hooo, hooo, hooo." At close quarters the noise was

  insupportable.

  I peeped round the pump and into the bulging eyes of the bank manager

  as he lowered his window. He switched off the engine and Coco stopped

  his howling and gave me a friendly wag through the glass.

  His master, however, did not look at all friendly.

  "Good morning, Mr Herriot," he said, grim-faced.

  "Good morning," I replied hoarsely, then working up a smile I bent at

  the window.

  "And good morning to you, Mrs Beresford."

  The lady withered me with a look and was about to speak when her

  husband went on.

  "I administered one of the wonderful new tablets early this morning on

  your advice ~ His chin quivered slightly.

  Oh, yes . ..?"

  "Yes, I did, and it had no effect, so I gave him another." He

  paused.

  "Since this produced a similar result I tried a third and a fourth."

  I swallowed.

  "Really . . . ?"

  'indeed." He gave me a cold stare.

  "So I am driven to the conclusion that the tablets are useless '

  'Weller . . . it certainly does look . . ."

  He held up a hand.

  "I cannot listen to explanations. I have already wasted enough time

  and there are three hundred mires' driving in front of me."

  I'm truly sorry . . ." I began, but he was already closing the

  window. He started the engine and Coco froze immediately into his

  miniature wolf position, 8 se high, lips puckered into a small circle.

  I watched the car roll across the square and turn out of sight on the

  road to the south. For quite a while after had gone I could still hear

  Coco.

  Vet zn a ~p~n Feeling suddenly weak, I leaned against the pump. My

  heart went out to Beresford. As I have said, I felt sure he was a

  decent man. : In fact I quite liked him, but for all that I was

  profoundly grateful that I would probably never see him again.

  Our audiences with Mr Barge usually took place every three months and

  it mid June before I saw him again at the head of our luncheon table.

  The silver head gleamed under the summer sunshine as he sipped his

  coffee and murmured politenesses. At the end of the meal he dabbed his

  lips with a napkin and his brochure unhurriedly along the table

  cloth.

  Siegfried reached for it and asked the inevitable question.

  "Anything new, Barge ?"

  "My dear sir." The old gentleman's smile seemed to convey that the

  folk' the young, though incomprehensible to him, were still

  delightful.

  "Car gill Sons never send me to you without a host of new products,

  many of t specific, all of them efficient. I have many sovereign

  remedies to offer you."

  I must have uttered some sort of strangled sound because he turned

  regarded me quizzically.

  "Ah, Mr Herriot, did you say something, young s I swallowed a couple

  of times and opened my mouth as the wave benevolence flowed over me,

  but against that dignity and presence I was help "No . . . no, not

  really, Mr Barge," I replied. I knew I would never be to tell him

  about the Soothitt.

  Chapter Three Now that we were faced with the reality of life at flying

  school, the ties w bound me to my fellow airmen were strengthened. We

  had a common aim common worry. ~ The feeling of comradeship was very

  like my relationship with Siegfried, his student brother, Tristan, back

  in Darrow by. But there, the pressures not from learning to fly but

  from the daily challenge of veterinary practice.

  existence was ruled by sudden and unexpected alarms.

  Tristan, however, didn't let it get him down. He and I were sit ting

  in the room at Skeldale House one night when the telephone burst into

  strident He reached from his chair and lifted the receiver.

  "Allo, plis, oo is dis?" he enquired.

  He listened attentively for a few moments then shook his head.

  "New, new, verr~e sorry, but Me ester Far non no at home. Yis, yis,~

  heem when he come. Hokey do key, bye bye."

  I looked across at him wonderingly from the other side of the fireplace

  replaced the instrument. These st range accents were only one facet of

  his co.

  determination to extract amusement from every situation. He didn't do

  it a time, only when the mood was on him, but it was not unusual for

  farmers say that 'some foreign feller' had answered the phone. -,)

  Tristan settled comfortably behind his Daily Mirror and was fumbling'

  Woodbine when the ringing started again. He stretched out once more.

  ~,4 "Yeas, yeas, goot efening, howdy do. Vat you vant, huh?"

  r ~' I could just hear a deep rumble from the other end of the line and

  Tristan suddenly snapped upright in his chair. His Daily Mirror and

  cigarettes slithered to the floor ~Yes, Mr Mount," he said smartly.

  "No, Mr Mount. Yes indeed, Mr Mount I shall pass on your message

  immediately. Thank you very much, goodbye."

  He fell back in the chair and blew out his cheeks.

  "That was Mr Mount."

  "So I gathered. And he certainly wiped the smile off your face,

  Triss."

  "Yes . . yes . .

  one thoughtfully "Quite," I said.

  "What did he ring for, anyway?"

  ~Oh, he has a cart horse to see tomorrow morning Something wrong with

  its hind feet."

  I made a note on the pad and turned back to the young man.

  "I don't know how you find the time in your hectic love life, but

  you're running
around with that chap s daughter, aren't you?"

  Tristan took the cigarette from his mouth and studied the glowing

  end.

  "Yes as a matter of fact I have taken Deborah Mount out a few times.

  Why do you ask ?"

  "Oh, no particular reason. Her old man seems a bit formidable, that's

  all."

  I could picture Mr Mount the last time I saw him. He was well named; a

  veritable massif of a man towering several inches over six feet. From

  shoulders like the great buttresses of the fell which overhung his farm

  rose a beetling cliff of head with craggy outcrops of jaw and cheek and

  brow. He had the biggest hands I have ever seen approximately three

  times the size of my own.

  "Oh, I don't know," Tristan said.

  "He's not a bad sort."

  "I agree, I've nothing against him." Mr Mount was deeply religious and

  had the reputation of being hard but fair.

  "It's just that I wouldn't like him to come up to me and ask if I was

  trifling with his daughter's affections."

  Tristan swallowed, and anxiety flitted briefly in his eyes.

  "Oh, that's ridiculous.

  Deborah and I have a friendly relationship, that's all."

  "Well I'm glad to hear it," I said.

  "I've been told her father is very protective about her and I'd hate to

  feel those big hands round my throat."

  Tristan gave me a cold stare.

  "You're a sadistic bugger at times, Jim. Just because I occasionally

  enjoy a little female company . . ."

  "Oh, forget it, Triss, I'm only kidding. You've nothing to worry

  about. When I see old Mount tomorrow I promise I won't mention that

  Deborah is one of your harem." I dodged a flying cushion and went

  through to the dispensary to stock up for the next day's round.

  But I realised next morning that my joke was barbed when I saw Mr Mount

  coming out of the farm house. For a moment his bulk filled the

  doorway, then he advanced with measured tread over the cobbles till he

  loomed over me blocking out the sunshine, throwing a large area around

  me into shade.

  "That young man, Tristan," he said without preamble.

  "He was speak in' a bit funny like on the phone last night. What sort

  of a feller is he?"

  I looked up at the great head poised above me, at the unwavering grey

  eyes probing into mine from beneath a bristling overhang of brow.

  "Tristan?" I oodbinesanswered shakily.

  "Oh, he's a splendid chap. A really fine type."

  ~mm." The huge man continued to look at me and one banana-like finger

  rUbbed doubtfully along his chin.

  "Does he drink?"

  ~r Mount was renowned for his rigid antagonism to alcohol and I thought

  it unwise to reply that Tristan was a popular and esteemed figure at

  most of the . just a little unexpected." He recovered his W and ht

  S:

  ri I said.

  "Hardly at all . . . in the strictest moderation . .

  At that moment Deborah came out of the house and began to walk across

  the.

  yard.

  She was wearing a flowered cotton dress. About nineteen, shining

  golden falling below her shoulders, she radiated the healthy buxom

  beauty country girl. As she went by she flashed a smile at me and I

  had a heart-li glimpse of white teeth and warm brown eyes. It was in

  the early days I had met Helen and I had as sharp an interest in a

  pretty lass as anybody.

  found myself studying her legs appreciatively after she had passed. i

  It was then that I had an almost palpable awareness of her father's

  gaze me. I turned and saw a new expression there a harsh disapproval