Frantic race to bale made harder by tractor bursting into flames - Jill Thorp

There’s nothing worse than having field upon field of grass down whilst great thunder clouds roll in threatening to drench all your winter feed and it puts the pressure on.

Luck was not on our side, however, when the loader tractor belonging to Paul’s uncle broke down on the first morning of baling.

Feeling left out, Paul’s trusty old steed of a tractor also gave up the ghost but in slightly more spectacular fashion when it suddenly burst into flames.

Some pretty quick thinking on Paul’s part saw the fire extinguished before it really took hold, but nevertheless the damage was done.

More time and, of course, money was wasted as a long trip to pick up a hire tractor saw half the day wasted and the rain clouds ever closer.

The minute the school bell rang, the little guy was off and wasted no time in heading out to the fields. Still in uniform, sausage roll in hand, he set to work, happy as the proverbial pig in muck.

After a long night of wrapping bales, it was a very weary little soldier that was prised from his bed early the next morning.

Staggering around, half in the land of nod, he grabbed his gear and just made it to our local scout hut in time for the start of his expedition.

They set off in good spirits under a breathtakingly blue sky, beaming sunshine and loaded up with supplies for a long hike to a secluded forest where their survival camp would begin.

Five hours later, a little red faced and not quite so chatty, they appeared one by one over the hill with two scout leaders bringing up the rear.

A familiar voice could be heard as they neared, louder than the rest and not pausing for breath.

The leaders wore a somewhat glazed expression as they trudged into the clearing, their eyes were open but their faces had long since switched off.

Five hours with the little guy was a challenging five hours and they now knew every single breed of sheep that inhabited the British Isles, along with an intimate insight into every aspect of farming, vermin control and muck spreading.

There was nothing the pair of them didn’t now know about hill farming, what Dad thinks of our Prime Minister and walkers that leave gates open.

Despite neither of them being from a farming background, I’m pretty sure they could both now lamb, worm and shear a sheep and could probably chose sheep breeds as their specialist subject on Mastermind.

As the kids were left to set up their hammocks and light fires to cook their evening meals on, the two leaders went and found a quiet, shady spot in the forest whilst their ears stopped ringing!