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  ~.] ~3 :l f~

  The arrangement with Ewan Ross had worked out very well. It meant a lot

  of driving for me; twenty-five miles to Scarburn, then a full day round

  the farms in that area followed by the run back to Darrowby at night,

  but I enjoyed working up there on the airy summit of Yorkshire and

  meeting a fresh community of farmers who, like all hillmen, seemed to

  vie with each other in hospitality. In their rough, flagged kitchens I

  ate superb meals which belied their modest description of 'a bit o"

  dinner" and it was almost routine for me to bring home a parcel of

  butter, a few eggs, sometimes an exquisite piece of spare rib.

  Of course I realise I was lucky. At the commencement of the Tuberculin

  Testing Scheme there was a nice incentive bonus on the milk or on the

  numbers of cattle and I appeared on the farms almost as a bringer of

  bounty. In later years when attestation became universal the stock

  owners came to regard the tests as a necessary nuisance, but, as I say,

  I was lucky - I was in on the honeymoon period.

  The arrangement suited Siegfried, too. Certainly he had to work hard on

  the days when I was away but it brought in some welcome revenue to the

  practice.

  And best of all it suited Ewan, because without doing a single thing or

  even thinking about it he had a Ministry cheque on his breakfast table

  every quarter. This was absolutely tailored to his personality because

  nothing would ever have induced him to spend hours in routine work, then

  go home and fill in forms with long columns of descriptions and ages and

  measurements.

  When he had to do a job he did it magnificently. And he did it with such

  care - always boiling up before he left the house and wrapping syringes

  and instruments in his strips of clean brown paper of which he must have

  had an endless supply. But if he could get away with it he stayed at

  home. In fact, after lunch every day he took off his shoes, put on his

  slippers and got down by the fireside. Once he was there it took

  something spectacular to shift him.

  I have seen him sitting there smoking while Ginny answered the phone to

  farmers who wanted his services.

  "Och, it'll do tomorrow," he would say.

  Not for him the sweat of fighting the clock, the panic of urgent calls

  coming in from opposite directions, the tightening ball of tension in

  the stomach when the work began to pile up. No, no, he put on his

  slippers, rolled cigarettes, and let it all flow past him.

  He had only a mild interest in the work we did in Darrowby but he was

  fascinated by the funny things that happened to us. He dearly loved to

  listen to my accounts of the various contretemps at Skeldale House and,

  strangely, he wanted to hear them again and again almost as a child

  would. Often, as he lay back in his chair with the smoke rising from his

  twisted little cigarette he would say suddenly in his soft

  Highland-Canadian voice.

  "Tell me about the rubber suit."

  I must have told him that tale twenty times before but it made no

  difference. He would gaze fixedly at me as I went through the story

  again and though his expression hardly changed his shoulders would begin

  to shake silently and the pale blue eyes to brim with tears.

  Looking back I often wonder who was right - Ewan or all the successful

  vets who gave themselves ulcers dashing round in circles. I do know that

  he enjoyed a deference from his clients which I never encountered

  elsewhere. Perhaps there is a lesson somewhere in the fact that he

  received grateful thanks if he went to an animal the same day he was

  called, whereas Siegfried and I who tried to get to a case within twenty

  minutes were greeted with 'what kept you?" if we took half an hour.

  There was another advantage to Ewan in having me to do his testing; he

  was able to pass on occasional private jobs to me while I was on the

  farms and as the weeks passed he began to use me more and more as a

  general assistant. It became commonplace for the farmers to say, "Oh,

  and Mr. Ross said would you take some nanberries or a stirk's belly

  while you're here," or "Will you inject some calves for scour? Mr. Ross

  rang and said you were coming." One morning I was startled to find a

  couple of strapping two-year-old horses waiting for me to castrate

  standing before I commenced the day's work.

  If the farmers had any objection to a young stranger doing their work

  they never voiced it. Whatever Ewan did or arranged was right with them;

  in fact there didn't seem to be much they wouldn't do for him.

  This was brought home to me forcibly one night. I had had a particularly

  rough day in the Scarburn district. Herds which I thought had about

  twenty animals turned out to have fifty or sixty and these were

  scattered around in little buildings miles apart on the fell-sides.

  There was only one way to get to them - you walked; and while this might

  have been enjoyable in good weather it had been a lowering late autumn

  day with a gusting wind scouring the flattened grass and almost piercing

  my bones like the first quick gleam of winter's teeth. It had almost

  stupefied me.

  And on top of that I had had a wider than usual selection of Ewan's

  private jobs; a couple of cleansings, a farrowing, a few pregnancy

  diagnoses; all jacket-off jobs which left my arms raw and painful. I

  must have tested about four hundred unyielding bovines, elbowing and

  squeezing between their craggy bodies, and it seemed almost too much

  that just when I was turning away from the very last cow of the day she

  should kick me resoundingly just behind the knee. This farewell gesture

  dropped me in a moaning heap on the byre floor and it was some minutes

  before I was able to hobble away.

  The journey back to Darrowby had seemed interminable and it didn't help

  at all when I got home and found that Siegfried was out and there were a

  few more calls left for me in our own practice. When I finally crawled

  into bed I had nothing left to offer.

  It was just after midnight when the bedside phone rang. With a feeling

  of disbelief I recognised Ewan's voice - what the devil could he

  possibly want with me at this hour?

  "Hello, Jim, sorry to disturb you." The words seemed to reach out and

  caress me.

  "That's all right, Ewan, what can I do for you?" I said trying to sound

  casual but gripping the sheets tightly with my free hand.

  Ewan paused for a moment. "Well now I'm in a wee bit of bother here.

  It's a calving."

  The window rattled as the wind buffeted the glass. "A calving?" I

  quavered.

  "Yes, a big cow with a great long pelvis and the calf's head is back.

  I've been trying for an hour but I'm damned if I can reach it - my arm's

  not long enough."

  "Ah yes, I've a very short arm myself," I babbled. "I know just how you

  feel. I'm no good when it comes to jobs like that."

  .i_

  :~

  ._

  ~ .

  A soft chuckle came over the line. "Oh I don't want your arm, Jim, it's