Vet in Harness Page 7

the needle between the cartilaginous rings and squirted a few c.c.'s

  into the lumen and, as always, the, stirk gave a reflex cough, sending

  up the distinctive aroma of the medicaments into our faces.

  "By yaw, you can smell it straight off, guvnor,' Charlie said with deep

  satisfaction. "Ye can tell it's gettin' right to "'spot.' :.~.

  Most of the farmers said something like that. And they had faith. The

  books spoke comfortably about the chloroform stupefying the worms, the

  turpentine killing them and the creosote causing increased coughing

  which expelled then~ But I didn't believe a word of it. The good results

  which followed were in my opinion due entirely to bringing the animals

  in from the infected pasture.

  But I knew I had to do it and we injected every animal in the yard.

  There were thirty-two of them and Mrs Dalby's tiny figure was involved

  in the catching of all of them; clutching vainly at their necks,

  grabbing their tails, pushing them; up against the wall. William, the

  eldest son, aged eight, came in from school and plunged into the fray by

  his mother's side.

  My repeated "Be careful, Mrs Dalby!' or Charlie's gruff "Watch thisself,

  Missis, or you'll get lamed!' had no effect. During the melee both she

  and the little boy were kicked, trodden on and knocked down but they

  never showed the slightest sign of being discouraged.

  At the end, the little woman turned to me, her face flushed to an even

  deeper hue. Panting, she looked up, "Is there anything else we can do,

  Mr Herriot?'

  "Yes there is.' In fact the two things I was going to tell her were the

  only things which ever did any good. "First, I'm going to leave you some

  medicine for the worms which are in the stomach. We can get at them

  there, so Charlie must give every stirk a dose. Secondly, you'll have to

  start giving them the best possible food - good hay and high protein

  cake.'

  Her eyes widened. "Cake? That's expensive stuff. And hay .. .'

  I knew what she was thinking. The precious hay safely garnered for this

  winter's feed; to have to start using it now was a cruel blow,

  especially with all that beautiful grass out there; grass, the most

  natural, most perfect food for cattle but every blade carrying its own

  load of death.

  "Can't they go out again .. . ever?' she asked in a small voice.

  "No, I'm sorry. If they had just had a mild attack you could have kept

  them in at nights and turned them out after the dew had left the grass

  in the morning. The larvae climb up the grass mainly when it's wet. But

  your cattle have gone too far. We daren't risk them picking up any more

  worms.'

  "Right . thank you, Mr Herriot. We know where we are, anyway.' she

  paused. "Do you think we'll lose any of them?'

  My stomach contracted into a tight ball. I had already told her to buy

  cake she couldn't afford and it was a certainty she would have to lay

  out more precious cash for hay in the winter. How was I going to tell

  her that nothing in the world was going to stop this batch of beasts

  dying like flies? When animals with husk started blowing bubbles it was

  nearly hopeless and the ones who were groaning with every breath were

  quite simply doomed. Nearly half of them were in these two categories

  and what about the rest? The pathetic barking' other half? Well, they

  had a chance.

  "Mrs Dalby,' I said, 'it would be wrong of me to make light of this.

  Some of them are going to die, in fact unless there's a miracle you are

  going to lose quite a few of them.' At the sight of her stricken face I

  made an attempt w} encouraging "However, where there's life there's hope

  and sometimes you get pleasant surprises at this job.' I held up a

  finger. "Worm them and get some good grub into them! That's your hope -

  to help them to fight it off themselves.'

  "I see.' She lifted her chin in her characteristic way. "And now you

  must come in for a wash.'

  And of course there it was in its usual place in the kitchen; the tray

  with all the trimmings.

  "Really, Mrs Dalby. You shouldn't have bothered. You have enough to do

  without this.'

  "Nonsense', she said, the smile back on her face. "You take one spoonful

  of sugar don't you?'

  As I sat there she stood in her habitual position, hands clasped in

  front of her, watching me while the middle boy, Dennis, who was five,

  looked up at me solemnly and Michael, a mere toddler of two, fell over

  the coal scuttle and started to bawl lustily.

  The usual procedure was to repeat the intratracheal injection in four

  days so I had to go through with it. Anyway, it gave me a chance to see

  how the cattle were faring.

  When I drew up in the yard my first sight was of a long sack-covered

  mound on the cobbles. A row of hooves protruded from beneath the sacks.

  I had expected something of the sort but the reality was still like a

  blow in the face. It was still quite early in the morning and perhaps I

  wasn't feeling quite strong enough to have the evidence of my failure

  thrust before my eyes. Because failure it undoubtedly was; even though I

  had been in a hopeless position from the start there was something

  damning in those motionless hooves jutting from their rough blanket.

  I made a quick count. There were four dead cattle under there. Wearily I

  made my way into the fold yard, I had no cheerful expectation of what I

  would find inside. Two of the stirks were down and unable to rise from

  the deep straw the rest were still panting, but I noticed with a faint

  lifting of my gloom that several of them were doggedly munching at the

  cubes of cake in the troughs and others were pulling an occasional wisp

  of hay from the racks. It was incredible how animals with advanced

  respiratory symptoms would still eat; and it provided the only gleam of

  hope.

  I walked over to the house. Mrs Dalby greeted me cheerfully as though

  those carcases outside didn't exist.

  "It's time for the second injection,' I said, and then after some

  hesitation, "I see you've lost four of them .. . I'm sorry.'

  "Well you told me, Mr Herriot.' She smiled through the tired lines on

  her face. "You said I had to expect it so it wasn't as big a shock as it

  might have been.' She finished washing the youngest child's face, seized

  a towel in her work-roughened hands and rubbed him briskly, then she

  straightened up. It was Saturday and William was at home and I noticed

  not for the first time that there was something about the little boy

  which suggested that even at his age he had decided he was going to be

  the man about the house. He pulled on his little Wellingtons and marched

  resolutely with us across the yard to do his bit as he saw it. I rested

  my hand on his shoulder as he walked beside me, he would have to grow up

  a lot more rapidly than most youngsters but I had the feeling that the

  realities of life wouldn't bowl him over very easily.

  we gave the animals their second injection with the two little Dalbys

  again throwing themselves fearlessly into the rough and tumble and that

  was about the last practica
l thing I did in the husk outbreak.

  Looking back, there is a macabre fascination in recalling situations

  like this When we veterinary surgeons were utterly helpless in the face

  of inevitable disaster. Nowadays, thank heavens, the young members of

  the profession do not have to stand among a group of gasping, groaning

  creatures with the sick knowledge that they can't do a thing about it;

  they have an excellent oral vaccine to prevent husk and efficient

  therapeutic agents to treat it.

  But with the Dalbys who needed my help so desperately I had nothing to

  offer; my memories are of repeated comfortless visits, of death, and of

  an allpervading reek of chloroform, creosote and turpentime. When the

  business had finally come to an end a dozen of the stirks had died,

  about five were alive but blowing hard and would probably be stunted and

  unthrifty for the rest of their lives. The rest, thanks to the good

  feeding and not to my treatment, had recovered.

  It was a crushing blow for any farmer to take but for a widow struggling

  to survive it could have been fatal. But on my last visit little Mrs

  Dalby, hovering as usual, hands clasped, above the tea tray, was

  undefeated.

  "Only them as has them can lose them,' she said firmly, her head tilted

  as always..

  I had heard that said many times and they were brave Yorkshire words.

  But I wondered .. . did she have enough to be able to lose so many?

  She went on, "I know you've told me not to turn -the young beasts on to

  that field next year but isn't there anything we can give- them to stop

  them getting; husk?'

  "No, Mrs Dalby, I'm sorry.' I put down my cup. "I don't think there's

  anything country vets need and want more than a husk vaccine. People

  keep asking us that question and we have to keep on saying no.'

  We had to keep on saying no for another twenty years as we watched

  disasters like I had just seen at the Dalbys', and the strange thing is

  that now we have a first rate vaccine it is taken completely for

  granted.

  Driving away I stopped to open the gate at the end of the track and

  looked back at the old stone farmhouse crouching against the lower

  slopes. It was a perfect autumn day with mellow golden sunshine

  softening the harsh sweep of fell and moor with their striding walls and

  the air so' still and windless that the whirring of a pigeon's wings

  overhead was loud in the silence. Across the valley on the hilltop a

  frieze of sparse trees stood as motionless as though they had~ been

  painted across the blue canvas of sky.

  It seemed wrong that in the midst of this beauty was worry and anxiety,

  grinding struggle and the threat of ruin. I closed the gate and got back

  into the car. That little woman over there may have weathered this

  calamity but as I started the engine the thought was strong in my mind

  that another such thing would finish her.

  Chapter Nine.

  I was vastly relieved when winter came and spring followed and I saw

  virtually nothing of Mrs Dalby. It was one market day in miid-summer

  that she came to the surgery. I was just going to open the door when

  Siegfried beat me to it. More than most people he appreciated the

  hospitality we were shown on the farms and he had sampled Mrs Dalby's

  tray as often as I had. On top of this he had the deepest admiration for

  her indomitable battle to keep the farm for her children, so that

  whenever she appeared at Skeldale House he received her like royalty.

  His manners, always impeccable, became those of a Spanish grandee.

  I watched him now as he threw the door wide and hurried to the top step.

  ~Why, Mrs Dalby! How very nice to see you! Do come inside.' He extended

  his hand towards the house.

  The little woman, dignified as ever, inclined her head, smiled and

  walked past him while Siegfried hastened to her side; and as they

  negotiated the passage he kept up a running fire of enquiries. "And how

  is William .. . and Dennis .. . and little Michael? Good, good,

  splendid.'

  At the sitting-room door there was the same ceremonious opening and

  courteous gestures and once inside a tremendous scraping of armchairs as

  he hauled them around to make sure she was comfortable and in the right

  position.

  Next he galloped through to the kitchen to organise some refreshment and

  when Mrs Hall appeared with the tray he raked it with an anxious glance

  as though he feared it might fall below the standard of Mrs Dalby's.

  Apparently reassured, he poured the tea, hovered around solicitously for

  a moment or two then sat down opposite, the very picture of rapt

  attention.

  The little woman thanked him and sipped at her cup.

  "Mr Farnon, I have called to see you about some young beasts. I turned a

  batch of thirty-five out this spring and they looked in good condition

  but now they're losing ground fast - all of them.'

  My heart gave a great thump and something must have shown in my face

  because she smiled across at me.

  "Oh don't worry, Mr Herriot, it's not husk again. There's not a cough

  among the lot of them. But they are going thin and they're badly

  scoured.'

  "I think I know what that will be,' Siegfried said, leaning across to

  push a plate of Mrs Hall's flapjack towards her. "They'll have picked up

  a few worms. Not lungworms but the stomach and intestinal kind. They

  probably just need a good dose of medicine to clear them out.'

  She nodded and took a piece of the flapjack. "Yes, that's what Charlie

  thought and we've dosed the lot of them. But it doesn't seem to have

  made any difference.'

  "That's funny.' Siegfried rubbed his chin. "Mind you they sometimes need

  a repeat but you should have seen some improvement. Perhaps we'd better

  have a look at them.'

  "That's what I would like,' she said. "It would set my mind at rest.'

  Siegfried opened the appointment book. "Right, and the sooner the

  better. Tomorrow morning all right? Splendid.' He made a quick note then

  looked up at her. "By the way I'm going off for a week's holiday

  starting this evening so Mr Herriot will be coming.'

  "That will be fine,' she replied, turning to me and smiling without a

  trace of doubt or misgiving. If she was thinking "This is the fellow who

  supervised the deaths of nearly half of my young stock last year' she

  certainly didn't show it. In fact when she finally finished her tea and

  left she waved and smiled again as though she could hardly wait to see

  me again.

  And when I walked across the fields with Mrs Dalby next day it was like

  turning the clock back to last year, except that we were going in the

  other direction; not down towards the marshy ground below the house but

  up to the stony pastures which climbed in an uneven checkerboard between

  their stone walls over the lower slopes of the hill.

  The similarity persisted as we approached, too. These young beasts

  roans, h s, red and whites - were an almost exact counterpart of last

  year's batch shaggy little creatures, little more than calves, they

  stood spindly-legged and knoc -kneed regard
ing us apathetically as we

  came up the rise. And although their symptoms were entirely different

  from the previous lot there was one thing I could say for sure; they

  were very ill.

  As I watched I could see the dark watery diarrhoea flowing from them

  without any lifting of the tails as though there was nothing they could

  do to control it. And every one of them was painfully thin, the skin

  stretched over the jutting pelvic bones and the protruding rows of ribs.

  "I haven't neglected them this time,' Mrs Dalby said.

  "I know they look dreadful but this seems to have happened within a few

  days.'

  "Yes .. . yes .. . I see .. . ' My eyes were hunting desperately among

  the little animals trying to find some sort of clue. I had seen

  unthriftiness from parasitism but nothing like this.

  "Have you kept a lot of cattle in these fields over the last year or

  two?' I asked.

  She paused in thought for a moment. "No .. . no .. . I don't think so.

  Billy used to let the milk cows graze up here now and then but that's

  all.'

  The grass wouldn't be likely to be 'sick' with worms, then. In any case

  it didn't look like that. What it did look like was Johne's disease, but

  how in God's name could thirty-five young things like this get Johne's

  at the same time? Salmonella ... ? Coccidiosis ... ?

  Some form of poisoning, perhaps ... this was the time of year when

  cattle ate strange plants. I walked slowly round the field, but there

  was nothing unusual to be seen; it took even the grass all its time to

  grow on these wind-blown hillsides and there was no great range of other

  herbage. I could see bracken higher up the fell but none down here;

  Billy would have cleared it years ago.

  "Mrs Dalby,' I said. "I think you'd better give these stirks another

  dose of the worm medicine just to be sure and in the meantime I'm going

  to take some samples of the manure for examination at the laboratory.'

  I brought up some sterile jars from the car and went painstakingly round

  the pasture scooping up as wide a range as possible from the pools of

  faeces.

  I took them to the lab myself and asked them to phone the results

  through. The call came within twenty-four hours; negative for

  everything. I resisted the impulse to dash out to the farm immediately;

  there was nothing I could think of doing and it wouldn't look so good

  for me to stand there gawping at the beasts and scratching my head.

  Better to wait till tomorrow to see if the second dose of worm medicine

  did any good. There was no reason why it should, because none of the

  samples showed a pathogenic worm burden.

  In these cases I always hope that inspiration will come to me as I am

  driving around or even when I am examining other animals but this time

  as I climbed from the car outside Prospect House I was barren of ideas.

  The young beasts were slightly worse. I had decided that if I still

  couldn't think of anything I would give the worst ones vitamin

  injections more or less for the sake of doing something; so with Charlie

  holding the heads I inserted the hypodermic under the taut skins of ten

  of the little creatures, trying at the same ~ time to put away the

  feeling of utter futility. We didn't have to drive them:] inside; they

  were easily caught in the open field and that was a bad sign in itself.]

  "Well you'll let me know, Mrs Dalby,' I said hoarsely as I got back into

  the ~ car. "If that injection improves them I'll do the lot.' I gave

  what I hoped was a' confident wave and drove off.

  I felt so bad that it had a numbing effect on me and over the next few

  days'~ my mind seemed to shy away from the subject of the Dalby stirks

  as though by] not thinking about them they would just go away. I was

  reminded that they;;' were still very much there by a phone call from