Episode 4 This Farming Life

Across some of the most beautiful

and remote landscapes of the British Isles...

It's not a bad office, is it? You know, look at it.

..Scotland's farmers carve a living...

Everything has got a time and a season. Nature doesn't stop.

..breeding sheep and cattle...

There's a lot of old friends here.

They've come to the end of their working life. Quite a sad day.

Wait a second!

..bringing new life into the world

and battling with the elements.

They're all cute in their own way,

and especially if they end up on your plate as a lamb chop - yum!

Over a year, five very different families

let cameras onto their farms...

Hell of a size of nuts on him.

..and into their lives, to share their struggles...

I don't know why you won't go forward, Mrs.

Do you need to do this?

..and their triumphs...

Look at my baby. He's alive!

..as they try and turn a profit in testing economic times.

That's just depressing, that, really.

There's cause for celebration...

Gorgeous.

..and a time to reflect.

I feel sad that I haven't provided the next generation

to carry on here.

But it's never dull.

I'm not letting go!

It's not a job. It's a way of life.

Late autumn, early winter.

In Scotland, short, chill, wet days

are followed by long, cold nights.

But in the cycle of the farming calendar,

these inhospitable, barren conditions

spell birth and new life.

These are busy months for mating and calving.

Late autumn, for me, is the arrival of new life

with another batch of cows due to start calving,

and with new calves it's exciting

because you've got the potential of new superstars to come through,

for us, which is for the shows,

for the sales, and that's exciting for me.

In the north-east of Scotland, Martin Irvine and his family

run a 240-acre farm, breeding pedigree Limousin cattle.

COWS LOW

Come on, girls.

Come on, then.

Late autumn is one of the two main calving times of the year,

and eight new calves are expected any day.

In a playful kind of mood.

They're in a playful kind of mood.

Sit at peace.

Martin and his father Stevie are trying to move

the expectant mothers into their own maternity pen.

In my diary, she is due in the next five to eight days.

She'll start getting slack in the back end

and that's your kind of telltale sign.

So we've got one here and two in the far-off pen.

We'll bring them all through together.

A calf's gestation period is about 21 days longer than a human.

And by Martin's calculations,

all these cows are now ready to deliver.

Some well-endowed ladies.

Big bellies.

New stock is the lifeblood of this farm.

A good calf can grow into a young bull that could fetch

up to £30,000 at auction.

One big sale, or lack of it,

has an enormous financial impact on a family farm like the Irvines'.

As exciting as it is to get a new calf, it is quite nervous,

cos it kind of means a lot.

There was bad spell we had last year

when we lost three calves in a row.

We don't like losing calves. It's just a bad feeling.

Kind of punish ourselves if we do lose calves.

When we do lose something, I know me and Dad take it very personally.

Dying's just not an option for us.

Martin has his eye on one cow in particular,

five-year-old Duchess, who is now four days overdue.

She had a difficult breech birth last year and her calf died.

I've been worrying about her for the last couple of weeks

just cos of the kind of trouble we had last year.

It can be quite simple. It could be a couple of pushes

and it's out, or it could get stuck,

and then that's when we have to intervene,

and if we have to intervene it'll be quick.

We'll catch her, we'll tie her up, and if we're nae happy

and nothing's happening, we'll calf it.

The key decision for Martin and his dad

is always whether to get involved or not.

It's a hard thing for us to sit and watch.

As much as you want to go intervene and do stuff and check things,

you're better to leave it alone.

It's a fine line of just waiting long enough

and not waiting too long.

First in Martin's precious herd to go into labour

is four-year-old Florence.

This will be her second calf.

She started pretty much making a nest, smelling the ground,

and she'll start making mummy noises

which is like "mm-mmm",

this is her searching for her calf which is not yet born,

and that's letting us know that's her starting calving.

She can't put her tail right down, it sticks half up a bit,

so there's something coming.

And that's her just getting the calf into position, like this,

ready for calving.

Cows can be unpredictable and aggressive during calving.

As each of these cows weighs around 850 kilos,

they must be treated with caution.

They are quite quiet normally but soon as they start calving,

they change, because they could just come for you.

They don't like anybody near them, when they're calving.

Don't get too close, cos she could just change, they can.

So the gate's open for a quick exit.

If there are any problems with Florence's labour,

Martin and Stevie will have just seconds

to step in and save the valuable unborn calf.

For now, it's a waiting game.

In central Scotland, near Loch Lomond...

..sheep farmer Bobby Lennox runs a 5,000-acre hill farm.

Early winter is mating or tupping time

for his flock of blackface sheep

and he's preparing the sheds for the rams, or tups, with wife Anne.

What way are we going?

That way.

We're 35 years married, and we still get on.

If Bobby tells me to do something,

I'll jump immediately and do it right away.

With a scowl on my face, maybe, or a mutter!

We were in the same Young Farmers Club.

I think we fenced around each other for a wee while,

and basically three or four weeks later,

we thought, "I think we should get engaged."

It was all fairly quick when it happened. Never regretted it.

Well, we have our moments.

Not me, of course. I'm the quiet, dutiful wife(!)

For the tupping season their ewes must be brought down from the hills.

Some were gathered in last week, but most are still roaming free.

There they are, they're waiting on us.

There should be about 500 sheep, depends what's hiding

and what comes in.

This is perfect weather, the sun is shining, there's no rain,

there's no mist in the hills,

so that makes our job an awful lot easier.

Grandparents Bobby and Anne show few signs of slowing down.

Go on, boy.

60-year-old Bobby is on a trail bike,

as 500 sheep are grazing over miles of hillside

rising up as high as 3,000 feet.

With the help of friend and contract shepherd Derek, and their four dogs,

they must find them and drive them down towards the farm.

Good boy, good boy.

It's basically about two and a half miles to the end of the glen,

and Bobby, he'll be going out the top, and Derek goes along

about the middle and then they'll sweep the sheep round

down to the farm. That's the plan - nobody's told the sheep.

Come on, girls, ho, ho, ho!

It's tough.

With only seven hours of daylight at this time of year,

they must work fast in difficult and uneven terrain.

'Terrain is probably the biggest challenge.

'Sheep can spread over a big area.'

'It's not just a case of going out to the field for 10, 15 minutes

'with a dog and gathering the sheep up.

'We're away for four, five, sometimes six hours.'

On a day like this, it's nice - clean, fresh air.

I don't mind working with the sheep.

If you get a wet miserable day, it's not so enjoyable.

But when you get weather like this, it's fine.

They're making good progress,

but some sheep can evade the gather year after year.

Bobby spots two potential escapees.

Go on!

Shoo! Yah!

There's two sheep, unfortunately,

just above the bottom crossings, and they don't want to come.

Shoo! Yah!

Come on!

This is time-consuming work when the days are so short.

That was tricky. It's a bit slippy in there.

Just going to go down this sheep path, cross the burn and follow

another sheep path across, then if it's slick, just ride with it.

Hopefully not too far!

It's a well-trodden path for 62-year-old Anne,

who clambers through these hills about eight times a year

to bring in the sheep.

I'd a very cushy job, I used to sit in an office.

Shorthand typist, went into my work for half past eight in the morning

and I left about ten to five at night, five days a week.

That was lovely.

Bobby came along and that was it.

And the first day that I was on the farm,

the rain was coming out the sky in torrents

and I was standing there in my waterproof gear,

leggings, the whole lot, thinking, "I left my office job for this?"

As long as I'm fit enough to keep going,

my hips and knees and ankles keep going, I will.

An hour and a half in, conditions suddenly change.

Now, this is a bummer, the mist coming down.

Means you can't see where the sheep are running

and it becomes dangerous for Bobby on the bike

cos you can't see where you're going.

With only a few hours of light left,

this weather could mean they need to abandon the gather.

If the mist came down to my height

and it didn't clear, we would have to. We'd stop.

Anne is worried about Bobby.

Bobby's round that top bit now.

Can't see him at the moment, but he'll be somewhere.

Jim, get down.

Too many steep bits.

You can't see where you're going. It's not safe.

-RADIO BROADCASTS:

-BBC Radio Scotland.

Met Office amber "be prepared" warnings

are in place for the west coast and also the...

..winds gusting up to 80mph, there'll be disruption...

..severe weather over the Atlantic is predicted to cause high seas

and strong winds across Scotland overnight and through tomorrow...

270 miles north, the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides

is at the centre of a violent storm.

Well, it's quite wild, really, really wild.

This is the first really good gale of the winter.

Don't really want to be out too much.

Former barristers turned crofters Sandy and Ali Granville

have opted to stay indoors this morning.

It's been pretty horrid, yes, pretty horrid.

One of the things about being here, this is a beautiful place

to have a house cos you can see these lovely views,

but we really get the wind

and it just hits the house and, this time,

you know, we lost a lot of tiles and things, but...it's noisy.

They have 12 Highland cattle,

more suited than their owners to the extreme weather.

And 100 hardy blackface sheep.

Crofting is a traditional, more communal style of farming

with shared common grazing for the island's livestock.

Sandy and Ali made their life-changing move

from being lawyers in London to crofters in Lewis

when they were in their late forties.

12 years on, Ali is about to turn 60.

Not sure that I will feel so different at 60,

but I suspect that by 70, we will be feeling much more frail

and so therefore we should be maybe thinking about

not doing the things that we're doing now.

But I'm not sure what we would be doing.

Maybe another adventure, perhaps, I don't know.

Sandy makes a living by selling the beef and mutton he rears.

He also has a sideline in making mutton sausages

for selected friends and family.

Got these quite well-organised here

so I'll just take the top ones out first.

Look quite nice and smoked.

I like to get everything vacuum-packed,

then you know it's clean and germ-free.

Sandy is waiting to hear from the vet as, today of all days,

a blood test is due on his herd of Highland cattle.

PHONE RINGS

Hello?

Hello.

It appears bad weather doesn't stop an island vet on his rounds.

He's just leaving now.

We will have him in about an hour.

The test is for BVD, or bovine viral diarrhoea.

It's a compulsory check-up for the calves

so Sandy will have to brave the weather

to bring them down from the hills.

OK, we're off.

We're always watching the weather here.

We have these big gales.

Of course, none of us know what's coming to us,

and the forecasts are always right,

but not always right at the time they say they're going to be.

DOGS WHIMPER

As a crofter, Sandy can graze his sheep and cattle

on the island's 3,000 acres of common land.

He's hoping to find his Highland cattle

sheltering amongst the rocks on one of their favourite hills.

Come on, boys.

It's a force 11 gale,

with winds blowing at over 60mph.

I think they will be sheltering

and I think they might be a bit surprised to see him.

If he brings them down here, we just want to move them along the road

and take them back up into our farm, where they can wait for the vet.

'It's a fine thing to be testing yourself

'against a hard physical challenge.'

'Many people would think it doesn't look very pleasurable

'but there's a lot of joy in it.'

Highland cattle originated in Scotland

and are ideally suited to these harsh conditions.

Their coats are double-layered with a fine, insulating inner coat

and a well-oiled, shaggy outer coat.

'Highland cattle, they wouldn't be chosen by farmers in softer places,

'but they're suited to our hills, they live outside all the time.

'They've usually got a cheery smile on their face

'no matter how fierce the weather.'

Pretty grim. Pretty grim.

Probably going to get worse yet.

Sandy only needs the calves,

but they won't come without their mothers

so he must try to lead the whole bedraggled herd down to the barn.

It could take some time.

In Central Scotland, near Loch Lomond,

Bobby and Anne are also battling the elements.

Oh, God...

A sudden mist has enveloped the hillside, ruining visibility.

Anne is worried about Bobby on his bike.

Bobby's round that top bit now.

He must be coming round to go the other side of the Finlas, the water.

As Bobby gets to the brow of the hill,

the mist suddenly eases.

And Anne finally catches sight of him.

He's fine, he was looking for sheep, which I can't see.

But with three and a half hours of daylight left,

they need to get a move on.

Bobby has guided most of the flock down towards Derek and Anne

who can drive them on towards the farm.

Hey, hey, hey, ho!

They're all in the right place,

we'll just wait till we get them together.

Stragglers don't always want to come.

My heart is filled with joy. My bit is done.

I was to stop them running down to the bottom

to keep them all above the road,

keep them above and down, so I've done my bit.

They go wrong now, it's not my problem.

Mission accomplished, with just an hour of daylight to spare.

They're good at this time of year.

They generally run the right way,

but there's two that have been dodging me the past two gathers

and I've had to leave them. Anyway, they're in.

Quick bite to eat, and we'll probably make a start

on sorting these out after we've done that.

They must now separate the best breeding ewes

from the rest of the flock.

We will work on till we can't see,

which, at this time of year, is unfortunately too early -

about four o'clock, half four, we're stuffed.

It's this very loss of daylight in November

that brings these ewes into season.

It affects their hormones so they're ready to mate.

The shorter days may work wonders on the sheep,

but they do nothing for Anne.

We try to work by the light of the moon sometimes.

Can't see.

Doesn't work, and it's not romantic, trust me, cos it's usually freezing.

In north-east Scotland at the Irvines' family farm,

Martin's vigil with Florence is coming to an end.

Her labour has gone well

and it now looks like she's about to give birth.

If you turn around, you will see feet, just.

Florence has been unsettled with her tail up for over an hour,

a sign that her calf's arrival is imminent.

So what I want to see is two feet showing.

I'll probably give it another ten minutes,

if I haven't seen the second foot,

have a feel, see if everything's OK and let her go, like.

It's her second calf. She calved herself first time.

So far, there's been no reason for Martin and his dad to intervene.

But as a calf is born, the cord breaks

and it takes its first breath.

If this happens while it's still in the birth canal,

it could inhale amniotic fluid and drown.

You don't want to lose a calf just because you're too slow,

so you're better doing it a wee bit earlier, to be safer.

They lost three calves last year so they're keen to make sure

that this calf is breathing properly as soon as possible.

We've got two buckets of water

and the bucket of water's for the calf.

If they do calf the calf and it's not getting a proper breath,

the bucket of cold water, throw it over the calf

and it's just like if I threw a bucket of cold water over you,

-you're going to go...

-HE GASPS

It's the same technique with the calf.

Right, you're going to peek around the corner, OK?

Nice and slow.

Florence still looks to be doing well on her own.

But then Martin's dad thinks there might be a problem.

It is stuck at the hips there just now

so it just needs to be pulled out now.

The calf's chest could be compressed and its breathing impeded.

Now is the time to intervene.

Go on, Martin, you've no choice.

With Florence secured, they move quickly to free the calf.

So, there you go, shaking the head is the perfect thing for us.

-You'll hear him, hear his throat.

-CALF TAKES RASPING BREATHS

He's kind of raspy, he has got a bit of glut in his throat.

Glut is amniotic fluid.

Give him a rub.

And Martin helps him cough it up.

Flooded with birth hormones, Florence wants to get to her calf.

Kind of got worried there cos it was stuck at the chest for too long.

It's a heifer, so it's a girl.

It's a healthy female.

So we're perfectly happy with that.

Limousin are particularly alert and active newborns

and she will soon be on her feet and suckling.

I'd say in about an hour, this calf will be up and standing,

and trying to suck its mum.

You can see she's got a great bag of milk.

She's just perfect.

It's a good start, anyway.

Just 50 minutes after being born,

she stands for the very first time...

Well, almost.

On the other side of the country,

on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides...

..Sandy Granville has been battling the elements

in pursuit of his herd of Highland cattle

that he needs to bring down from the hill for the vet.

They are due an annual BVD test

and the vet needs a blood sample from three calves.

First, they must be separated from their mothers, so Sandy has a plan.

I'll call them all in and lead them through the pen and, with luck,

I'll get the two cows out the other side and shut the young ones in.

That's perfect, Sandy, we just need three.

Getting three inquisitive horned calves from their mothers

in a howling gale...

..is a bit of a challenge.

Get in, you silly beast! No, get in!

Luckily, Highland cattle are a docile and good-natured breed,

not easily stressed.

They're bred primarily for their fine, low-cholesterol meat.

It was a bit of a bad start that they all had broken out of the pen.

Go on, shove up.

They need to be penned in

so the vet can access a vein in the calves' tail.

BVD is a contagious disease that can cause infertility

and is particularly dangerous for unborn calves,

leading to deformities at birth.

'We do a lot of voluntary disease checking.

'Fortunately, we've never...

'We've never had any positive results for anything.

'We've also got a largely closed herd.

'We don't buy in any beasts, we breed all our own.'

Come on, then. Out you go. Out you go.

The blood samples successfully taken,

the mothers and calves can be reunited.

They return to their communal grazing on the hillside.

Sandy will find out the results of the blood test in a couple of weeks.

'In a way, it gets harder as you get older, but, in other ways,

'we get cleverer and manage to make jobs easier for ourselves.'

Pretty wet!

In the end, we'll be too old and weak to carry on.

We haven't quite reached that point yet.

On the mainland, much further south,

farmers Sybil and George Macpherson

work two farms spread over 15,000 acres of mountainous terrain.

Come on, ladies. Come on. Come on, sheep, come on.

Like other farmers across Scotland, they're getting their flock,

1,500 blackface sheep, ready for winter tupping.

Come on, sheep, just be brave and go through there.

Any lame or unfit ewes need to be separated out

so they can be looked at.

Here she comes.

Slow down, missus. Oh!

Sybil and George have known each other since childhood.

Together for 18 years and married for 12,

they work as partners on the farm.

George is a remarkable character.

He is the kindest, funniest,

most supportive person that I think I've ever met.

'She's honest, down to earth and a smart person,

'she's a very clever person.'

She's my best friend, she's certainly turned into that,

without any doubt, and I'm very proud of that.

We'll put them in there, I think.

I can't tell you just how much I rely on him

for so many things in life.

He's my rock, he's my everything.

Sybil and George make joint decisions about their livestock.

With the blackface breeding season almost here,

time for a shopping trip.

Sybil and George need at least four new tups for their winter tupping.

Luckily, they have one of the country's top livestock auctions

on their doorstep.

We're at Dalmally blackface tup sale.

The best tup sale in the world.

We'll have folk from all over the country here.

This is where you buy your best hill tups.

It's very exciting because there's a lot of hype,

there's a tremendous amount of really good sheep here.

It's also anticipation of buying something

that's going to knit into your flock

and you're going to have its offspring for years and years

forming part of the flock

so it's important to try and make the right decision.

Now they just need to find some tups they both like the look of.

I was looking at them over there.

I think they're a nice pair of lambs.

-Have you looked at them?

-They're nice.

There's a woolly one in there, that really is quite a smart lamb.

It's very interesting to see the cream of the crop, so to speak.

We look for a coat that was dense and thick

and able to withstand wind and rain

and all the elements that come at it.

We'll be looking for a sheep

that was very bright and alert and lively.

A big sleepy sheep's no use on a mountain.

Maybe OK in a flat green field, but we look for something with spark.

I think they're awful good.

Most everything, you can see something in them.

I like to see nice hair on their faces.

The old people tell you that's a sign that the ewes will milk well.

-AUCTIONEER:

-500... 500...

It's an all-day annual event

with nearly 700 tups being auctioned.

Nine... 1,000... 1,000.

Some livestock sales are still in guineas.

One guinea is the equivalent today of £1.05.

Top prices can be achieved for a prized breeding specimen.

Five thousand five... 6,000...

6,000... 6,000... 6,000...

The record here being 90,000 guineas for one tup.

6,000... 6,000...

There's lots of competition.

This is THE big tup auction of the year and everyone's after the best.

7,000... 7,000... 7,000.

7,000, Mr Toner.

7,000 guineas for this animal.

Next up, a tup from a much-admired bloodline.

40. Come on, at 40,000, 40,000 he goes, then.

At 40,000, he's off at 40,000...

40,000 guineas.

It was a syndicate of three of the biggest breeders

that bought it between the three of them.

Sybil is hoping to spend a rather more modest

500 guineas per tup.

She isn't looking for a pedigree bloodline,

but for strong healthy animals

that will survive and breed out on her hills.

For what we call a hill tup, just to chase away to the mountain,

you have to be realistic about how much you can afford.

We can't justify it cos it's just too much money to lose

if they don't come back in.

Sybil's now got her expert eye in.

Just fell in love with one of your tups, Patsy.

-What one are you liking?

-He's in this pen at 620.

That one.

And she's smitten.

I love the back of his head.

I like the colours in the hair on his face

and he's got a really good waterproof coat.

I just like him.

I'm sure he's well outwith my price range,

but there's something about it.

I just was walking past and he caught my eye,

so I need to go and speak to George now to see what we think.

Will he be just as enamoured?

I saw a really nice tup in Ian's pen away down the line,

-620, have you seen him?

-No.

Strong teeth are needed to forage for food on the mountains.

I think he's pretty good, him.

They agree. Now they have to bid for him.

If it all looks perfect, possibly four figures, I don't know.

Maybe. Maybe. We just need to see.

It's the turn of Sybil's favourite in the ring.

200 bid.

200, 250, 300, 50,

four, 50, five, 50.

550. Six, seven, eight,

800, 900, 1,000 bid.

1,000, 1,000 bid. One and hundred, one and hundred.....

With bids now well over her ideal price,

determined Sybil seems to have lost any sense of caution.

Could this top tup tip her budget completely over the edge?

At Martin's Irvine's farm,

Florence's newborn calf needs to be named and tagged.

She's to be called Jaya.

COW BELLOWS

So what you're hearing is Mum, Florence.

She sees us taking her calf away and handling her calf

and she wants to look after it.

It sounds bad, but it's actually a good thing. She's a good mum.

Every newborn calf will get tagged and, on the tag,

you've got the name of the calf.

The E stands for his father, it's Enfield.

Every pedigree breed has a letter, and the Limousins' for 2014 is J,

and, next year, it'll be...

..H?

It's usually the alphabet, we just follow the alphabet.

So this year, 2014, the letter is J.

At the start of the year,

it's quite easy cos you've got every name you can choose.

You start getting to the end of the year, November, December,

we've already had about 65, 70 calves already,

names start getting tricky so we start getting quite creative.

We've had Juggernaut, that's a bull calf,

that was a good name I quite liked.

We've got a Jaws, we've got, er, Jarvis off of Iron Man, the robot.

Just random names, but the superhero comics,

TV, movies, and if you have got a cow

you think's going to give you a good calf and she has a bull calf,

you kind of save the good names for the better calves

cos you think they might come through to the bull sales

at the end of the day and a catchy name kind of reads well.

Jurassic Park was on TV last night and it came in my head this morning.

In the short term, bulls are better

because you can take money in with bulls quicker.

Long term, you want females.

If you've got a really good cow, you like to get females off her

because that's keeping that bloodline going.

A good breeding cow like Florence

could have up to 12 calves in her lifetime.

She's proving herself to be an attentive and protective mother.

She's a really hard worker. She puts everything into the calf.

She's got a big bag of milk.

She puts everything into the calf and that's what I like to see.

She's a very good mummy.

Hopefully, her new daughter Jaya will be an equally valuable addition

to Martin's growing family of Limousin.

At their farm near Loch Lomond, Anne and Bobby Lennox are getting ready

to create the next generation of spring lambs.

-How many do you want?

-Half of them.

How many's half?

Rough half.

With the girls all gathered in from the hills,

Bobby's now turning his attention to the boys.

He has to choose ten strong tups that will be up to the job.

Come on, boys, let's go, let's go!

Ha-ha!

Bobby is a bit of a pioneer when it comes to genetics.

In the 1990s, he started keeping meticulous records

about his best animals.

Using this data, he can now select which tups should be put

with which ewes to improve the meat quality of their lambs.

Let me get that one's number. 2458.

Bobby needs to check his paperwork to select the chosen few.

It shows me all the history on that particular sheep,

and this is the important bit,

is EBV, estimated breeding value, so this sort of tells you...

predicts what the genetics will produce.

That lamb's going to be a very big one -

at 11.5kg, heavier than the average.

Very, very good, that's in the top 1%.

That's my best sheep in figures,

and I think it's, you know, one of the best sheep to look at as well.

Bobby's system has made him an expert at breeding lambs

with a high lean-meat yield,

which is exactly what the supermarkets want.

Before I started doing this,

we were averaging 14.5kg of carcass.

We're now averaging 20kg of carcass, that's 6kg heavier.

That's about £20 in value.

He separates the best.

These tups and the new lambs they will father next year

are key to the financial survival of the Lennox's farm.

Profit margins are tight for tenant hill farmers like Bobby and Anne.

It used to be 500 sheep per man to make a living

and you're now about 1,100 sheep per man.

Bobby's family have been working this farm as tenants since 1750.

There is no doubt the amount of rent

we have paid over the last 260 years would have bought the farm over,

probably several times, but there never has been an opportunity

to buy the farm, so the occasion has never arisen.

If we owned it, we would do things a lot differently.

I mean we don't know, say, within the next ten years what'll happen.

I mean, I said when I was about 50, "Give us ten years."

At 62, I'm now saying, "Give us another ten years, please."

And then we'll make our mind up what we do.

Ten tups are selected.

All are fit and agile with strong back legs,

which they'll need to successfully mount

up to ten females a day for the next few weeks.

This is what we call skirting

and it's just putting a big mark on the rams

so that they're easily spotted from a long distance.

There's roughly 600 ewes up on this field,

so they're all just in one big paddock so it's a free-for-all now.

Survival of the fittest.

Don't worry, the girls will come and find them. They know.

It all goes back into the mists of time, into the length of day.

It's all inbred in them.

On you go. Your luck is in.

Here is your moment, these are the chosen ones, yes, the chosen ones.

Woohoo!

Hello, there!

Hello, darlings!

Each female is fertile and receptive for a 24- to 36-hour period

every 17 days, so it's action stations.

Time to get a cuddle.

-SHE LAUGHS

-Priceless.

The tups lose 15% of their body weight

during the three-week breeding season,

impregnating 50 to 60 females each.

They go for the older, more experienced ewes first.

At the moment, they are fighting over one ewe there. Poor girl!

When you see the first pair of blackie lambs being born,

we all go, "Oh, aren't they lovely? Aren't they cute?"

1,000... 1,000 bid...

At the Dalmally auction,

Sybil has fallen head over heels for a handsome tup.

The price is now up over 1,000 guineas,

well beyond her ideal budget, and she's still bidding.

The bid is 1,200...

1,400... 1,400...

That's enough, eh?

Good tup, though.

1,400... 1,400...

What do you think?

1,400...

1,600... 1,600...

1,600... Final bid at 1,600... 1,600...

This love match isn't meant to be.

I liked your tup a hell of a lot, a really hell of a lot.

-He looked better in there...

-Nice tup.

Aye, his hair was fantastic, and the crown.

I did like him,

and I think I probably was in about 1,200, but when it's all happening,

you just kind of get a bit bemused,

but I suddenly thought I couldn't personally justify

spending more than that.

Two thousand two...

We can pick them, even though we can't buy them.

Sybil is down, but not yet out.

Prices are high, so they must reassess.

-Nice pair of legs.

-Uh-huh, lovely crown.

The rhythms of nature are at work in these winter months.

Most tups are fertile all year round,

but they are at peak performance at this time of year to coincide

with the ewes' breeding season, so now is the time to buy.

We marked down three that we're quite interested in,

so it just depends how they look

when we see them out on the concrete,

how their feet look and how they look as to which one,

but we've marked down three different ones

with the potential to buying them.

But it's now so busy, Sybil might not be able to bid on them.

It's impossible to get in.

I don't even know if I can push in or not.

All out in front now.

She manages to squeeze in, just in time.

BIDDING CONTINUES

The first one goes above her 500-guinea price range.

I'm out!

I thought I had him. And it's a friend that's bought him,

but I don't see him, but I shall punch him.

Outbid, she tries for another in the same group.

Tupping time is just round the corner

and this is one of the last big auctions of the season.

Sybil needs at least four tups.

BIDDING CONTINUES

Success at last.

I liked his attitude in the ring.

His legs were very correct and he's very bright

and his coat looked nice, so I bought him at 400.

We bought your wee tup.

Yeah. Thank you very much.

Trying so hard with quite a few of the other ones,

but you know how stingy I am when it comes to cash.

That's one tup down, but more to go.

There are two rings in action, 600 tups still to sell,

and the buying is continuous.

We just went and bought this shearling.

We just both really liked the tup in the ring,

didn't really look at him much before, but really thought

he had an excellent coat and watched him in the ring

and we both liked him so we've bought him,

but we need to have a look at him now.

Sybil paid 700 guineas for this young tup,

so, close up, will she think he's worth it?

That is him, isn't it, George?

Aye, it is him, it is him.

We thought he looked awful well in the ring.

Just the sort of coat you're looking for

for coming to Argyllshire, to the wet and whatever else.

Yep. The weather'll not get through that.

After nine hours at the sale,

Sybil and George spend £2,000 guineas,

just over £2,000, on four new tups.

That's our purchases. Quite a good day's business there.

I'm awful pleased with them, Sybil.

-Yep. Now we need to get them in the trailer.

-Yep.

These hardy tups are destined for a tough life out on the hillside.

Between them, they will hopefully father hundreds of lambs

to add to George and Sybil's flock next spring.

In the north-east of Scotland, north of Aberdeen,

more new life is ready to emerge at Martin Irvine's farm.

Duchess is four days overdue,

but it looks like she is finally going into labour.

At five o'clock tonight, she started kind of prancing about,

prancing about, tail was up, looking uncomfortable,

so we're just going to watch her.

Martin is anxious about five-year-old Duchess,

who lost a calf last year.

The problem we had last year,

the calf was getting presented the back way,

so it was coming backwards, back legs first,

and the problem you have when the calf is coming backwards,

the last thing to come out is its head

and when the calf's halfway out, the cord breaks and it starts breathing.

Got the hips out no problem, he got stuck just at the chest,

just for ten seconds too long.

The calf had taken a breath inside, filled with fluid.

By the time we got the calf out, it wasn't fit to take a breath.

Tried what we could, and we lost a calf.

If Duchess can't give birth to a live calf this time,

she might not have a future on the farm

and will have to go to slaughter for meat,

so Martin wants this birth to go well.

Signs aren't good, though.

With no calf to feed this year, Duchess is unusually large.

All the feeding that she's been taking has been going into herself,

so she hasn't had to feed a calf, and if a cow's feeding a calf,

she's putting it all into the milk and feeding the calf,

but because she's only had to look after herself since last year,

she's kind of... Conditions a bit good, she's a bit hefty,

carrying a bit much weight and the problem with that being it could put

that weight into the calf, so what I'm worried about is a big calf.

Big calf, hard calving - a bit of trouble.

A cow's labour usually takes about six hours.

As this could well be a long and difficult birth,

Martin's mother Denise and fiancee Mel are on hand to help,

should anything go wrong.

'Losing animals on the farm is really hard for all of us.

'Martin takes it quite badly to heart cos that's his job.

'I suppose it'd be like a doctor losing a patient.'

It's now half past eight and there's still no action,

and she just doesn't seem to be getting on with the job.

Just not interested, sitting there chewing her cud.

So I phoned the vet, spoke to him and told him

what I was feeling, what she'd been up to

and he's thinking she's maybe lacking calcium

and that's why she's not getting on with the job.

So at the moment, we're going to put calcium under her skin,

sort of boost her calcium.

And then, because the calf hasn't been coming out,

she's now slackened at the back end so I've got my arms in here,

just slackening her off while that goes in

because the problem we've got with this calf

is the umbilical cord's right up at the front here

so that's going to get snapped early, so it only gives us minutes

to get this calf out, so we have to be quick as we can

getting this calf out. If that cord snaps, soon as we start pulling,

you've only got two to three minutes to get this calf out and going.

Duchess has been in labour for almost four hours now.

The size of the calf's feet confirms Martin's fears.

Its left leg...

It's unusually big and Duchess will need help to get it out.

OK. The other side.

They need to use a calving jack, a piece of equipment

that needs expert handling or it can damage the calf.

It attaches to the ropes round the front legs

and can provide powerful leverage.

Hold on. That's the ropes on the feet.

Dad, he'll work a jack

and I'll make sure the head is coming out the right way.

Start putting pressure...

RATCHETING

Stop. It's big.

She's tight.

Right, we need ropes for the head.

Where's the ropes for the head?

The calf's head is stuck.

Hold there.

Is it coming?

How much pressure have we got?

That's the head...

Right, you going to go?

Pal, watch yourself.

Right.

It's going to go!

Just keep going, she's not going to push that hard.

Right! Right, right, go, go, go.

Right, stop!

Finally, the massive calf is born. But it's unresponsive.

Lift it!

LIFT IT!

They need to get it to breathe, and fast.

Over the wall, Martin.

HE BLOWS

-Over the wall, Martin.

-Just wait a second!

HE BLOWS

-Over the wall...

-Lift him now, lift him straight up. Lift.

Swing, to me.

Drop!

It looks brutal, but this could save its life.

The calf still isn't breathing. Its eyes are dull.

Right, front leg. FRONT LEGS!

It's coming, it's coming.

Holding the calf upside down helps clear the glut.

OK, throw him back.

At last, it takes its very first breath.

Unless they cough and splutter, they don't get that bit up,

then they drown.

So that's why it was all systems go.

-Thick, very thick.

-Just like jelly.

It's been a huge ordeal.

When he was out, he was gone, nothing in the eye

till he got a bit of air in his lung, his heart's still going.

So to blow and get a bit of air into his lung and get him going again.

Everything that could have went wrong kind of did go wrong.

Everyone has a bit of a panic.

This could be worth 30 grand.

He's still got a bit of glut in his lungs

so Mel's tickling his nose, pretty much, and it'll make him cough

and make him kind of gasp and push his air out a bit better.

He's almost there doing it, that's better.

What you want to do is see him shake his head.

-Hey, there we go.

-There we go.

Yay!

-Bedtime.

-Aye!

The calf will be called, appropriately, Jumbo.

Next time...

Jumbo's first day of life doesn't run smoothly.

Could have quite easily been a dead calf.

There was a fine line between him living and him dying.

George and Sybil get in a fix with a haulage lorry.

Perfect, aye.

-No.

-Yeah, back you come, perfect.

There's no other way you can do it.

Oh, no!

And Christmas arrives...

..but there's no rest for the farmers.

It's just after eight o'clock - about time things were getting fed.

Some people may think it's a bit hard

having to work on Christmas Day,

but when you get scenery like this, it's just pretty special.

Wouldn't change it for the world.