Lord God Made Them All by James Herriot Read Free Book Online

bespectacled little man, apparently realised who I was, because he came up and with a smile said, “Veterinary surgeon,” and shook my hand warmly. His colleague, tall and gaunt, was painstakingly going through the forms and saying nothing.
    The chief man from the export people informed me that not only am I to be the medical attendant to the 383 pedigree Romney Marsh and Lincoln sheep we are carrying, but I have also to deal with the Russians at our port of destination, Klaipeda. I have to bring back five acceptance forms signed by the Russians and myself, otherwise the company will not get paid.
    “How much are the sheep worth?” I asked.
    The export man’s mouth twitched up at one corner. “Twenty thousand pounds.”
    My stomach lurched. It was a fortune. This was a responsibility I hadn’t foreseen.
    When the crowd had cleared, Captain Rasmussen and I were left alone in the room. He introduced himself charmingly and I was immediately attracted by his gentle manner. He is smallish, silver-haired and speaks excellent English.
    He waved me to the chair by his side. “Sit down, Mr. Herriot, and let us talk.”
    We spoke about our families, then about the job in hand.
    “This is a motor ship,” said the captain. “Built for the sole purpose of transporting animals. There are two decks below with pens for the sheep. Perhaps you would like to see your charges?”
    As we left the mess room I noticed that the captain was limping slightly. He smiled as he saw me looking down at his feet.
    “Yes, I broke my ankle a few months ago. Fell down the steps from the bridge to my cabin during a storm. Silly of me.”
    I wondered if I would be doing any falling about over the next week or so. We walked around the sheep. Beautiful animals, all of them, and they were very comfortable, well bedded in straw and with lots of sweet hay to eat. The ventilation was just right and the atmosphere pleasantly warm.
    When I left the captain, I was agreeably surprised at the first sight of my cabin. No doubt those on passenger liners are more sumptuous, but there is a bunk with spotless sheets and pillows, a desk, armchair and sofa, a wash basin, fitted wardrobe, two cupboards and a lot of drawers. The whole place is done out in shining light oak. I am very impressed with my temporary home.
    I opened my suitcase. Only a tiny part of it was taken up by my personal effects; the rest was filled with the things I thought I might need. My black P.V.C. working coat, bottles of calcium, antibiotics and steroids, scalpel, scissors, suture materials, bandages, cotton wool and syringes.
    I looked down thoughtfully at the limited array. Would I find it too meagre or would I not need any of it? The following days would tell me.
    We took on the pilot at 8 P.M. , and at 9 P.M. I heard some activity outside my window. I looked out and saw two of the crew winching up the anchor.
    I went up on deck to watch our departure. The night was very dark, and the dockside was deserted. A cat scurried through the light thrown by a single street lamp but nothing else stirred. Then our siren gave a loud blast and I could see we were moving very slowly away from the quay. We glided through the narrow outlet of the dock, then began to head quite swiftly towards the mouth of the Humber, two miles away.
    As I stood on the deck I could see several other ships sailing out on the evening tide, some quite close, cleaving through the water abreast of us only a few hundred yards away, a graceful and thrilling sight.
    Away behind, the lights of Hull receded rapidly, and I was looking at their faint glitter beyond the stretch of dark water when I felt a touch on my arm.
    It was a young sailor, and he grinned cheerfully as I turned round. “Doctor,” he said. “You show me how to feed the sheeps?”
    I must have looked puzzled because his grin widened as he explained. “Many times I sail with cattles and pigs but never with sheeps.”
    I understood and motioned him to lead on. Like