Northern Spirit Read Online Free

since September. The rivers were swollen and the ghyll was
flooded, constantly spluttering water, mud and gravel onto the farm track.
David pushed the tractor clumsily into gear and drove back towards Keld Head,
with the wheels splashing water from the puddles across the yard. His mood had
taken control of him, and much like his father, David wanted to run away, but
he didn’t know where to, or who from. It would be foolish to walk the fells
today as the rain would persist and get the better of him. Yet he had an
overwhelming urge to leave, as he had become afraid of his own image, and David
thought he would never look in a mirror again. And as much as he’d despised his
father’s actions, his feelings where vindicating the thoughts he had, that he
was becoming much like him.
    He parked untidily in the gate way, jumped down from the tractor cab
and was about to put on his waterproof jacket, when he noticed one of the dairy
cows standing alone in the corner of the fold yard, swishing her tail from side
to side, fidgeting, paddling her feet and in some discomfort.
    He crept in beside her and rubbed his hand gently down her spine, and
easing himself behind her, saw what he suspected. A long stream of pink slime,
was falling from her rear-end and staining the animals black and white coat.
The cow was about to give birth.
    ‘It’s okay, Silver.’ David spoke softly and, recognizing his calm
voice, Silver turned to him and nuzzled his jacket.
    David had worried about this animal for months, as they’d struggled to
get her in calf, and no calf meant no milk. He’d argued with his father to be
patient and give her one last chance; George had said she should be sold for
slaughter. But David’s patience was about to bear fruit and Silver was going to
give the results. And as he gently rubbed her thick coat, David recalled what
his late Uncle Fred always said: “kindness - kindness – kindness.” And the
memory of him and his compassion softened David’s mood and, through his own
kindness and persistence, Silver was about to repay him and save him from a
reckless action, providing him with a thread of hope.
    He separated her from the other cattle and put her into a loosebox,
then scattered around some fresh straw bedding, gave her a wad of hay and a
bucket of clean, cold water. He looked at the animal and smiled for a few
moments as he leant back on the wall. Sighing, he rubbed the skin taut on his
face with his hands, as he knew she had prevented him from running and the
danger had passed.
    As the day drew on Silver continued in labour, but couldn’t produce a
result. David checked her as often as he could and tried to give her the
privacy she deserved, hoping he wouldn’t have to send for the vet. And today he
found it difficult to decide whether he was being overly cautious or careless
in his choice. It wasn’t the first time he had to make this decision, as his
father would often disappear at inappropriate times and then return, only to
accuse him of interfering.
    So David decided to give Silver a deadline: If she hadn’t calved by
tea-time he would have to call the vet. But tea-time came and went and there
was still no calf.
    When Tom came home from school he helped with the watch, constantly
wandering from the loosebox to the dairy to tell David of any progress. But
Silver was beginning to look tired. And David could see as she lay on the dry
straw bed, that one of the calf’s front legs was the only visible sign of
birth. He took a bucket of warm soapy water, lathered his hands and arms and
started to examine her. He could feel inside the cow’s warm body, the neck and
head of the calf. But the calf’s other front leg was, unusually, bent backwards
and David hadn’t the confidence to rectify the matter himself. If his father
was here, he knew he could have easily solved the problem, but there was no
more he could do, and to save Silver anymore discomfort, reluctantly, went to call
the vet. He couldn’t risk