‘We’ll get her out.’
‘You’re as worried as I am,’ she accused, and he gave a rueful smile.
‘I might be.’
‘And if we can’t get her out?’
‘I’ve called the local vet for back-up.’
‘And the local vet would be how local?’
‘He’s half an hour’s drive away.’
‘So he’ll be here in half an hour?’
‘Not quite. He’ll be here half an hour after he delivers a heifer of her first calf.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘I brought the rifle,’ he muttered, and Lily gulped. Um, that was never a back-up plan in her sort of medicine.
‘It’s only if she breaks anything or starts to struggle deeper,’ he said.
‘She can’t deliver a foal where she is.’
‘We don’t know she’s in labour.’
‘I’m sure she’s having contractions.’
‘Right.’ His lips compressed. ‘So we get her out before she has her baby.’
‘How?’
‘Dig,’ he said, and handed over a spade. ‘We’re in this together.’
They were.
They laid planks around the mare, giving themselves a solid place to work. Right. The next thing was to stop the mare sinking further. Ben knelt on one side of the mare and shoved a tarpaulin under her belly, talking softly to her all the time. Lily knelt on the other side.
Flicker’s belly was resting on mud, sinking a little beneath the surface. Ben worked his way in from one side; Lily burrowed from the other; Flicker stayed still and they were able to drag the tarp through.
There were three more contractions as they worked.
‘Now what?’ Lily demanded, struggling to her feet again, a heap of mud coming with her.
‘Now we dig,’ Ben said. ‘Benjy, you keep singing. You’re exactly what Flicker needs. Lily, we’re working down from about six feet in front of her, digging what will act as a ramp outward from her hooves. We’ll be sliding planks in as we dig and then we’ll cover them with canvas. She should be able to get purchase.’
‘Really?’
‘Got any other suggestions?’
‘Nope,’ Lily said, and started to dig.
They worked for half an hour, digging forward steadily. Lily wasn’t half the digger Ben was, but every few minutes they swapped so the trench they were creating was even. Fifteen minutes into the digging, Lily had blisters on blisters but she would die rather than admit it. The thought of the rifle in the back of the truck was the best of spurs.
And all the time Benjy sang, in a high, quavery voice that held the occasional sob. Every time he paused, the horse became agitated again, rolling her eyes, pulling back. Her legs had no purchase in the mud and she’d almost ceased trying to get herself out, but Lily was worrying now about shock.
How did you tell if a horse was in shock?
‘Can we contact the vet and see if we can give her a sedative?’ she asked as she dug.
‘I’m imagining a sedative will cross the placenta, the same as in human babies. Wouldn’t you say?’
‘Yes, but-’
‘I already asked the vet,’ Ben said grimly. ‘No sedative. Let’s just dig.’
So dig they did, forming a sloping hole downward, until they had what was essentially a ramp from close to the mare’s front legs. They left about a foot of mud between the hole and the mare’s legs, deciding they’d break through in one hit at the end, fearing she might lash out.
Finally the hole was dug. Swiftly they lined it with boards and covered the boards with canvas, shoving the canvas under the boards at the ends and the sides so as soon as the horse was on it, her weight would hold it in place.
‘Now we just have to break through,’ Ben muttered. ‘Lily, hold her halter, talk to her, see if you can distract her.’
Ben didn’t want to get kicked, Lily thought, and she was in complete agreement. Neither did he want her to surge forward when only one leg was free.
‘OK, Benjy, we’re into distraction.’
The mare was in obvious pain now. Labour must be advancing. Her eyes were panicked, and Lily thought it was more than being stuck that was panicking her.
She had to distract the mare from pain-and from Ben.
She knelt on the mud to the side of the mare and tugged Flicker’s halter, making her look sideways rather than straight ahead.
‘No struggling,’ she said sternly. ‘Benjy, tell your friend Ben’s trying to help. Flicker, look at us.’ She jerked the halter. ‘Look at us.’
Ben was in the hole. He was scraping at the last of the mud, trying to break through. Nearly there. The last barrier of mud was collapsing down on itself, freeing the mare’s legs.
Flicker appeared not to notice. Her eyes were looking inward. There was a foal in there, battling to come out.
‘OK,’ Ben muttered, and hauled himself up and onto the far side of the hole from Lily. He reached out and grabbed the other side of Flicker’s halter. ‘Let’s get you out, gorgeous. Lily, pull.’
Lily staggered to her feet.
‘Stand aside,’ Ben ordered Benjy.
‘Shall I sing?’ Ben’s face was a picture of bewilderment, fear and the beginnings of excitement.
‘No,’ Ben said. ‘Get behind her and shout. As loud as you can.’
‘Only her front feet are free,’ Benjy said doubtfully, staring at Flicker’s still trapped hindquarters, and Ben grimaced.
‘I know,’ he told Benjy. ‘But she’s a strong horse. It should be enough.’
It had to be enough, Lily thought, for to dig under the abdomen to free the back legs was impossible. It’d be impossible even if they had time. Which they didn’t.
So Lily and Ben pulled and Benjy shouted. For a long moment Lily thought the mare simply wasn’t going to try. There’d be so many sensations hammering the mare now that being stuck in mud would be the least of them. But Lily pulled as if she really believed the mare would come free and Ben pulled, too. Flicker suddenly hauled a foreleg upward, the mud squelching as it released its grip. One hoof hit the canvas-covered wood and found purchase. Encouraged, she tried the second hoof and it, too, found purchase.
‘Now for the big pull,’ Ben murmured. ‘Come on, my beauty.’
‘Please,’ Lily muttered. ‘Please.’
And then it happened. The mare gave one last despairing whinny, found purchase with both hooves and hauled herself forward, with a movement so sudden that Lily sprawled backward in the mud. Ben didn’t stop. The mare was lurching out onto the boards, and Ben was tugging the mare forward, further, further, leading her as fast as he could over the soft ground so she couldn’t sink again. While Lily lay in the mud and tried to regain her breath, man and horse made it to the pasture.
Safe.
Lily lay on the mud and watched them, and smiled and smiled. Benjy came up to her, worried about why she hadn’t risen, and she tugged him down and held him tight and grinned.
‘Wasn’t that the best?’
‘You’re covered in mud. Just like me.’
‘And I love it. Just like I love you.’
‘Oi!’ On dry ground Ben was holding the mare’s head and looking back at them in bemusement. ‘Benjy, could you remind your mother that she’s a doctor. We have a baby to deliver, guys, so if you’re finished wallowing in the mud, maybe you could help.’
What they needed was a nice easy delivery but, of course, that wasn’t going to happen. Flicker was exhausted and distressed to begin with and she hardly had the strength to push.
But Ben had thought past getting the mare out of the mud. He’d filled a couple of huge Thermos flasks with hot water and he’d tossed buckets and rags and rope into the back of the truck.
‘Practically a whole birthing unit,’ Lily noted. ‘But no incubator?’
‘The sun’s incubator enough,’ Ben growled. ‘If we can get it out.’ He glanced at Benjy, who was starting to look distressed again. ‘I meant if we can get it out quickly. Benjy, do you think you can keep these buckets full of clean water? If you took one over to the river and half filled it, then we’d have it ready. We’ll top it up with hot water from the Thermos. That way we can have as much warm, soapy water as we need. Stay on the firmer ground where there are rocks to walk on. Don’t go anywhere near where we’ve been digging.’