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Voices from the past

Only the fowls were happy

Few modern-day people even see locusts. Most consider them in Biblical terms as one of the ten plagues visited upon ancient Egypt. Yet many early writers describe great swarms in Karoo “as a blanket drawn up over the sun.” Remembering his teenage years José Burman, wrote that on a clear day it seemed as if the sun had suddenly gone out. Myriads of insects covered the land as far as the eye could see. Flying swarms took up to half an hour to pass. When they landed they caused devastation. “But that was not the worst for they skipped over some areas in flight. The ultimate horror was caused by the voetgangers, the hoppers, who missed nothing. In some towns channels were dug across the streets in an effort to stop these ‘pedestrians’ from moving further. Some channels were left empty, others were filled with water. Men lined up at the edges of the channels with brushes, brooms and sacks, to sweep up and collect the creatures in when the touched down. As the black cloud rolled down, the beaters sprang into action hitting, tramping, beating, sweeping, but quite without effect. The advance guard of hoppers came to the water, hesitated, and were pushed in and drowned. Others followed in endless succession and soon there was a bridge of dead hoppers which allowed the others to cross. Paraffin was poured into the empty channels and ignited, but the hoppers put out the fire as their dead bodies piled up. And, still they came. Nothing stopped them. They destroyed the veld. They climbed over walls, stripped every garden and every tree of foliage. They ate every blade of grass leaving a wasteland behind them. The only happy creatures were the fowls. They rushed about madly gobbling locusts until they keeled over and just lay there – too full to move.”

Rose's Roundup, Febr 2012 (No 217)
To subscribe to Rose's Roundup, contact Rose Willis at: karootour@internext.co.za

Tough trip to the karoo

After several locust plagues and a severe drought, Maj-Gen Dundas, in 1801, sent a commission into the Karoo to investigate the situation. Among them was William Somerville who recorded the trip in his journals, which have recently been published by the Van Riebeeck Society. A train of six large bullock wagons was readied for the trip. “They had sufficient strength to handle the badness of the roads, where there were roads,” said a member of the party. He added that those who knew only the annoyances of travelling on a jolting mail coach or the distress of waiting for post horses would be interested to know that preparing for such a journey was equal to outfitting a ship for a sea voyage. The party left Cape Town on October 1, 1801, and travelled for five hours to the farm Pampoenkraal (present-day Durbanville), where they obtained fresh oxen, 12 for each wagon. They trekked on again for seven hours to reach Middleburg, a farm near Paarl, where they spent the night. From there they headed to the Berg River, where a ferry helped them to cross. As a considerable time was spent transporting the wagons across, they were only able to reach Groenberg (near present-day Wellington) at the end of the second day. Next day they tackled the rugged Roodezand Kloof Pass. They found that the route over Witsenberg and Skurfte Berg (today’s Gydo Pass) totally unsuitable for wagons and spent two hours negotiating the difficult Tulbagh Pass to reach Gouda and Tulbagh, and the Bokkeveld. There on the fourth day the axle of one of the wagons was so badly damaged that they feared it could go no further. The route did a u-turn towards present day Worcester and then ahead lay the great plains of the Karoo. They knew “the worst of the trip still lay ahead”. They reached Karoo Poort on the eighth day and from then on they had to contend with sparse grazing and brack water. At the “briny Tanqua River”, they met Gerrit Visser, who had built a permanent residence, a better house than they hitherto had seen. Visser, who had travelled frequently to the Orange River, was able to give them a great deal of good information on what route to follow.

The commission travelled on through the Roggeveld where the drought had been so bad that water sources “hitherto reckoned on as constant” had dried up. The veld was bare, locusts had destroyed the grazing. Also an outbreak of horse sickness had taken its toll together with other plagues. Conditions were fearful and these worsened as they travelled. “the poorer inhabitants had lost so much of their stock and suffered the wages of heat and cold to the extent that they were totally destitute and without even bread.” Some were subsisting on a never-ending daily fare of mutton, but had no salt with which to flavor it. After 13 days and about 100 travelling hours from Cape Town, the commissioners found it difficult to procure fresh oxen and the hooves of the their animals were beginning to fail. At one spot, near the Riet River, a field cornet, who had promised nine teams of oxen, could send only two. It was October, yet the nights were cold. Hoar frost covered the ground, and travelling conditions was miserable as they neared the Nuweveld Mountains, near present day Beaufort West. By then they had been travelling for 18 days. They found some fish in the rivers, but once cooked it tasted muddy and foul. “The flesh was flabby and full of small bones. Because of the drought there was not much game, but they were able to find ostrich eggs and used these to supplement the menu. At times during this journey across the Karoo “there was not a tree of any description to be seen.”

Rose's Roundup, Febr 2012 (No 217)
To subscribe to Rose's Roundup, contact Rose Willis at: karootour@internext.co.za

Rock art pioneer with Beaufort west roots

A South African woman, who was to become famous in botanical circles, was born in Beaufort West on April 29, 1867. Her name was Maria Wilman and oddly enough this arid section of the Great Karoo was to prove fundamental in shaping her future as rock-art collector as well as a researcher of San and Khoi cultures. After matriculating at the Good Hope Seminary in Cape Town Maria decided to further her studies at Cambridge University in England where she registered for a degree course at Newham College. She was the second South African female to attend Cambridge University in England, where she was awarded a Science Degree in geology, mineralogy, and chemistry in 1888, but it could not be conferred on her because before 1930 women were not eligible to obtain degrees. Maria Wilman’s degree was thus only formally conferred upon her by Cambridge University in 1933. Undeterred by this curious attitude, Maria returned to Cambridge in 1893, and completed a Masters Degree in Botany during 1895. She then came back to South Africa where she took up a volunteer position in the Geology Department of the South African Museum in Cape Town. Although she technically had a degree, she still did not have her father's approval to work, so she would not accept remuneration for what she was doing and thus remained a volunteer until 1907.

During her time at The South African Museum, Maria Wilman reported to Louis Albert Peringuey, whose interest in the San people and their culture spurred him to send her on research trips into the Northern Cape Province and Rhodesia (Zimbabwe). In 1908, when she was appointed the first director of the Alexander McGregor Memorial Museum in Kimberley, she traveled by ox-wagon through Lesotho and Botswana studying the San people and their cultural products. The artifacts and implements that she acquired on these trips are considered as most important of their kind. Maria eventually compiled her research into a book, entitled Rock-engravings of Griqualand West and it was the standard text on Southern African Rock Art for almost five decades. In 1939 Miss Wilman was awarded an Honorary Doctorate in Law by the University of the Witwatersrand. Maria retired in 1953. She went to live in George where she died on November 9, 1957.

Rose's Roundup, Nov 2011 (No 214)
To subscribe to Rose's Roundup, contact Rose Willis at: karootour@internext.co.za

Merinos make their mark

By 1830 experts considered the teething stages of the Cape Merino industry to be over. F W Reitz, the man destined to become president of the Free State, actually stated that 1830 was the turning point for the South African wool industry. He was proved right, states Edmund H Burrows in Overberg Outspan. In 1830 the Colony exported 30 000 pounds of wool; 20 years later the figure stood at nearly six million pounds and, in 1872, the boom reached 48 million. The Merino had made its mark and the George Greig, the scholarly, 23-year old partner of Michiel van Breda visualized the future accurately when he wrote a pamphlet entitled Observations on the Merino in 1834. By then Overberg farmers were selling sheep in the Karoo. Burrows states that “sheep from historic studs, belonging to Reitz, Van Breda and Joubert, were already being shipped and transported overland to start the industry in the Karoo”. The Handbook of the Cape of Good Hope of 1885 states that among the hinterland men who came to the Overberg as “Jasons in search of golden fleece” were Willem Burger from Calvinia, William Kinnear from Beaufort West and Dirk de Wet from Victoria West.

South Africa was the first country outside Europe to own Merinos. This history stretches back to 1789, when the Dutch Government donated two Spanish Merino Rams and four Spanish Merino Ewes, to the House of Orange. The sheep came from the King’s famous Escoriale Merino Stud, but they did not do well in the damp conditions of Holland, so they were sent to the Cape and given into the care of Col. Jacob Gordon, the military commander. At the time the King of Spain, had the sole right to export Merinos and when he heard they had been sent to South Africa, he asked for them to be returned. Col. Gordon had realized the potential of the little flock and had sent them to Groenkloof, the Company farm, 55km from Cape Town. When the King asked for his gift be returned, they sent back the original sheep and kept the progeny.

In 1855 M J Adendorff started washing wool on his Karoo farm, The Erf, as a service to farmers and buyers. He advertised this in The Graaff-Reinet Herald of May 5, 1855, stating farmers in Richmond, Colesberg, Middelburg and Graaff-Reinet, would be charged only 3/8ths of a penny per pound for this service. He also offered a free collection and delivery service to any Graaff-Reinet store and stated he was prepared to load wool for direct transport to Port Elizabeth, so saving farmers storage costs. “A constant stream of clear water runs through the washing dams so the wool is cleaner than any product washed at any other establishment,” he said. Adendorff stated he had already washed upwards of two hundred bales, and given the highest satisfaction. “Every care and precaution is taken to ensure no wool escapes out of the dams,” he said.

Rose's Roundup, Nov 2011 (No 214)
To subscribe to Rose's Roundup, contact Rose Willis at: karootour@internext.co.za

Not such a stupid ox after all

In Trekking The Great Thirst, Lieutenant Arnold W Hudson tells of some of the difficulties facing travellers into unexplored territory in the late 1800s. He was making his way into the Kalahari and stated that in this extremely dry part of Africa bullocks were invaluable. “Indeed one can do nothing without them and in the sand they are more useful for slow work than horses so they are used a great deal for packing and riding. Packing is a complicated business. It takes three men to pack an ox. One controls it by a riem (thong) passed through its nostril, then there is one on each side to balance and secure the load on the beast’s back. The load is secured by passing a long riem round and round, over the back and under the belly of the animal and after each circle tightening it by pressing a knee against the ox and pulling for all they are worth. This packing is a fine art because many an old bullock, used to the ways of the road, will blow himself op during packing and then, when he thinks the loaders are finished and ready to move off, he will breathe out and assume his normal size. The pack then becomes loose and falls off. There is no alternative but to start from the beginning again, but if the ox is not properly tethered while the load is being re-assembled – and this is often the case as the trek was ready to leave – he simply sets off. Once they get away they are extremely difficult to catch.” Hudson had a great deal of trouble with pack bullocks. His loads kept tumbling off.

Not for the faint hearted

The Karoo was in the grips of a terrible drought in the November, 1903, when T Silver attempted to drive through the area. This decision cost him dearly. He tells of his experiences in The Veld and African Pictorial, of November, 1903. “The sun-baked Karoo lay before me, an illimitable panorama of rocky boulders, stunted bushes, waterless river beds and sand, sand, sand! Stone and sand, sand and stone - nothing else. Only the hum of beetles broke the deadly monotony. In this dreary, dancing, palpitating heat if was difficult to find the right track. All too soon darkness fell. My petrol ran out, and I was exhausted. There was nothing for it, I was forced to sleep beside the machine. The night became bitterly cold. I had no water, my tongue was parched and my lips cracked. As soon as daylight came I decided to walk to Prince Albert. It was a dreary, wearing, 15 mile (24 km) trudge.” A day’s rest was badly needed, but with the tanks refilled, he decided to push on. Still good luck was not with him. All too soon he ran into a blinding dust storm. He tried to grope his way through it to Victoria West, but the task was too daunting, he did not manage. Staying on the road was virtually impossible. A patrolling policeman found him lying prostrate beside his car. The policeman had to use brandy to revive him. Fortunately he was also able to offer Silver a little nourishment and food. Then, patched up, “with mouth, lips and ears covered in ghastly-looking sores, boots worn through and feet badly blistered”, Silver eventually reached the Modder River.

Bishop saw the beauty and felt the bumps

Bishop Griffiths marvelled at the springbok when he travelled through the Karoo in 1838. Not only did he find these animals “beautiful to behold”, but their flesh, he said, made excellent eating and their pretty white and yellow skins provided people with carpets when sewn together. He found Graaff-Reinet a beautiful town with neat houses, all white-washed and thatched. “They are seldom more than one storey. The streets are planted at each side with lemon and orange trees. Water for irrigation purposes is conveyed to these by cart. The whole town is surrounded by mountains. It is quite an oasis in the desert. You’d never imagine such a neat town could exist in such a lonely and desolated spot.” Before leaving Graaff-Reient en route to Beaufort West and Cape Town he was given an ostrich egg, some ostrich feathers and eight pieces of “bill tongue” (biltong) for the journey. He wrote that he awoke at 05h00 and on the way to have a cup of coffee, noticed his hair is getting quite lank. “It had lost all its curly character,” he wrote. “I wondered whether it was the climate, or had my spirit broken in this desolate land?” On his departure from Beaufort West he wrote: “I soon found that what I had heard of a cart travel was true. It jolted most tremendously and I was sure that by the end of the journey every bone in my body would be dislocated. The canopy was too low and seat too narrow.” The Bishop prayed for forbearance as a journey of 400 miles (644 km) lay ahead.

Military surgeon's medals fetch the top price

In March, 2011, a rare group of 22 orders and medals came up for sale at Smiths Newent, a Gloucestershire-based auction house in England. Said to be the “pick of the lots”, they were valued at £15,000 and there was a healthy interest these medals as they had belonged one of Britain’s top military surgeons, Lieutenant-General Sir Arthur Thomas Sloggett. He came to South Africa during the Anglo-Boer War as principal medical officer at the Imperial Yeomanry Hospital and commandant for the district of Deelfontein in the Karoo. He was also deputy administrator of the Cape Colony from February 28, 1900, to August 23, 1902. While in this country Col Sloggett indulged his interest in natural history and ecology and establishing a menagerie at the Imperial Yeomanry Hospital to educate and entertain the patients. Constantly searching for the unusual led him to discovered a rather rare little vlei rat which was named in his honour (Otomys sloggetti). Sloggett’s medals, awarded for service between 1916 and 1918, fetched £24,000 – the top price at the auction.

Horses in demand

Horse racing became an extremely popular sport among diggers at the diamond fields in the 1870s. The first race at the fields was run at Pniel in January, 1871, and it was such a success that a group of sporting diggers banded together to form the Diamond Fields Turf Club, writes Brian Roberts in Kimberley, Turbulent City. A course was laid out near Du Toitspan and Bultfontein mines and a gala meeting, lasting three days, was widely advertised. Substantial cash prizes were offered. Karoo horses were in demand. Their quality and stamina were widely known. Turf Club officials bought horses from breeders in Beaufort West, Cradock and Colesberg. Exciting as the event was, it was remembered not so much for the races, as for the side shows it attracted. Crooks of all kinds converged at the course. Among them were card sharps, slight-of-hand tricksters and “three-card-monty-men”. Small time chisellers had a field day and ladies of the night did a brisk day-time trade. After these races diggers found it safer to gamble in the billiards saloons.

Locusts like sand, but he stayed

Rocks truly are the curators of history in the Karoo. Way back in 1780 a Dane left his mark on a Karoo boulder. A G Schoombee was so delighted by the Karoo that he carved a message on a rock and settled right there despite the fact that the area was in the grips of a locust plague. In time his farm, 15km northeast of Middelburg became known as Schoombeesklip (literally Schoombee’s stone). Years later Joan Sutherland, a genealogical researcher “went looking for this stone on a delightful summer morning.” She wrote: “The view was magnificent with the Middelburg mountains in the distance, misty and ethereal against the sharp blue sky. Stark white labourers' cottages filled the foreground and it was like walking through a painting. We had to step carefully so as not to trample the Karoo violets and other wild flowers. Eventually we found the boulder near a koppie. The letters, although carefully hewn out of the rock, were practically obliterated by orange and green lichen, but we could still decipher them. The inscription read: 'Anno 1780 Aprel ik ben die plaas heft aangelygyt. AGSB uyt Denemark sprenghane als s/a/nt.' (“The year is 1780 April and this farm was founded by me AGSB from Denmark. Locusts like sand.”) It must have been quite an effort for Schoombee to carve out this message. Sadly, however, he eventually straightened up to admire his work, he discovered he had left out the “a” in “sand”, so he had to go back and squeeze it in."

Graaff-Reinet rifle corps

Graaff Reinet also had a rifle corps. Its formation came when a Burgher Law was passed because of rumours of another war were rife. John H Roselt, placed an advertisement in the Graaff-Reinet Herald early in February 1856, stated a meeting would be held in the Court Room at 19h30 on February 21 for the purpose of establishing a corps. This was a successful, well attended event and it was decided to name it Graaff-Reinet Mounted Rifle Corps and it was agreed that Mr Heugh could fulfilled the office of Captain of the Corps as well as Captain of the Burghers. A full meeting took place at P Caro’s offices on March 9, and H Benjamin was voted into the chair. Regulations were presented and approved and officers elected. They included Comdt. Anthony Berrange, Capt. John Heugh, Lt. and Adj. William Henry Addison; Lt. John Henry Roselt and Quartermaster Edward Nathan. On June 28, 1856, Lt Addison called for tenders for uniforms and these were delivered by February 10, 1857. Cornet Chris van Blommenstein was commissioned on February 25. By September 9 that year the strength of the corps was 55. The Corps mustered on the Queen’s Birthday “to receive presentation of their colours which had been elegantly designed and worked by the ladies”

Where did you get that hat?- Tel : Gallery 023-541- 1057

Wellknown Prince Albert artist, Christine Thomas, is presenting a new exhibition. Entitled Een Mens Het Baie Name (One Person Has Many Names) it opens on April l and celebrates the words, works and world of Piet Balelie, a colourful local personality. “The exhibition is a multi-dimensional portrait of Piet, his extraordinary clothing and colourful hats,” says Christine. “Each hat in itself is a story and sums up Piet’s philosophy of life. He is illiterate, yet has an enviable ability to use words, stories, rhymes, riddles and jokes to share his world with others. His philosophies effectively are part of his paintings.” Christine has long used local inhabitants and their stories as a theme. In the past her exhibitions have recorded the stories of Gamkaskloof, “The Hel”, riddles and forced removals.

Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, off we go!

The description by Boyes, travelling through the Karoo to the diamond fields in 1871:

The “coach”, a huge wagon, was drawn by eight horses, had three wooden benches under an awning. It could seat nine passengers and two more could “perched” at the back with the guard. There was little room for luggage, so passengers sat with it cutting into their knees “Nor was this the only torment. Loose canvas pockets for carrying food swung from the roof and at every jolt passengers had to duck to avoid being bashed on the head. Yet the bags were essential because food along the route was virtually unprocurable. The days of hospitable Boers had long gone – these farmers would have been ruined trying to feed the mob moving northwards.” Travellers were thus forced to bring their own provisions – sardines, potted meat, bread, brandy, etc. The road, said Boyle, was dreadful and the scenery so dreary that he became bored and depressed. “How the Cape gained a reputation for beauty I cannot comprehend. What a frightful wilderness.” But, he had spoken too soon – he had not seen the Karoo. “After Bains Kloof the real wilderness of the Karoo began. For miles ahead lay monotonous veld shimmered, flat and forbidding under a pitiless sun,” he wrote. “There seems no end to the grey, stony, desolate plains. Nothing breaks the dead level till in a dim haze it fades against low dusty hills. No shadow falls, but the gloom of a passing cloud. Even the stones that clothe the ground are small and shadeless. A dusky knot of prickles here and there, a sprig of heath, a tuft of chamomile or sage, a thin grey arm of vegetation ...the sole thing real in all this landscape is that abomination stretched before you.” Obviously the Karoo did not impress him and it took the coach a week to cross the Great Karoo.

Sitting stiff-backed on wooden benches, unable to move their legs or rest their heads, plagued by heat, dust and flies, the11-day journey to the diggings was hellish. “Men tried to rest, to sleep, at every stop, but it was essential to walk. My ankles began to swell and become painful,” said Boyle. “One passenger was in a terrible state. His limbs doubled in size and became discoloured. Another went totally lame and yet others were too far gone to remedy. At one stop I walked for three hours to ease the discomfort.” Occasionally they passed men slogging along on foot who begged for water. They also found men senseless with thirst in the veld and bodies were continually discovered along the route.

Karoo captivates the bishop

When Robert Grey, Bishop of Cape Town, set off for the northernmost reaches of the Colony, he was captivated by the Karoo. “There was no time for reading in the wagon,” writes Thelma Gutsche in The Bishop’s Lady. “The arid desert-like Karoo with its abrupt rocky kopjes, occasional mirages and stunted bushes sparsely mixed with grass, was full of fascination.” The Bishop saw thousands of springbok, gnus and swarms of locusts, rare pools of water, called “vleis” and sometimes, but very seldom, a Hottentot family trekking along the “road”. The Bishop enjoyed a stopover with the stormy petrel of Cape politics, Andries Stockenström, famed for intransigent liberal views and swam in the Great Fish River, before entering the Great Karoo. Graaff-Reinet’s Rev W Long and his wife met the Bishop at Somerset (East) where Robert preached in the Dutch church. He then doubled back across Agterbruintjieshoogte and travelled to Cradock – full of English speaking people, but with no church. The Great Karoo in those days had a large English speaking population. Robert tried to preach in Dutch at some farms. He was sure his messages were quite unintelligible, but his Boer hosts politely disagreed. He gave a Dutch-English prayer book to one family with whom he spent the night. In Colesberg he stayed with Dr Orpen, a sincere, but explosive Irishman, whom he ordained as a deacon in the Dutch church where Thomas Reid, a Scotsman, was the minister. The fabled Orange River was only a three hour ride away, so Robert rode out at 05h00 one morning to see the river and have a swim in its muddy waters.

Indeed, a place of contras

Former Karoo farmer David Shearing is one of the readers who has enjoyed stories covering the history of drought in the Karoo. “We must however, remember that in the Karoo - so the saying goes – there is ‘only thing more certain than death and that is drought!’ A Karoo drought certainly does take a severe toll, but when it’s over it gives so much back. On balance the Karoo remains a wonderful place.” Many agree with that statement. The Karoo is a place of fascinating contrasts. The Graaff-Reinet Herald of Thursday, March 28, 1889, reported that “a warm gentle warm rain during the past week broke a dry spell, but in the Camdeboo the mountains are thickly covered with snow. We anticipate a continuance of the delightfully bracing cold weather that set in after the rain. It is a break from the heat. Pasturage will be abundant this winter and we looking forward to a fest of fat beef and mutton. Sadly, however, during a thunderstorm on Wednesday 75 sheep were struck dead by lightning on Stephanus Meintjies’s farm.” On December 14, 1777, explorer Robert Jacob Gordon, the first person to formally state the relationship between the south-east winds of the Cape and rains up country was caught in a hail storm in the Sneeuwberg area. “There was heavy thunder, gusts of high wind, large hailstones and heavy rain. A few days before pieces of broken ice, the size of a man’s fist, fell during a thunder storm.” he wrote.

Drought cripples the central area

Over the years the Karoo has seen many droughts and, even now despite good rains in the interior, Beaufort West’s Gamka Dam remains empty. Droughts were reported in 1864, 1877, 1903, 1916, 1925 through to 1928. The one considered to be the fiercest climaxed in 1933. Known as The Great Drought it peaked after almost five years of little rain in large parts of the Karoo, north-western Cape and Orange Free State. It reduced thousands of farmers to poverty and wiped out some once prosperous farms. “The hinterland became a barren wasteland,” says Pieter Lund, continuing the stories on drought in the arid zone that he started in Round Up No 84. Pieter gleaned most of these from The Farmer’s Weekly from 1930 to 1934. “Fortunately for my father the lessons he had learned in earlier droughts carried him through. He applied a policy of lower stock numbers coupled to a conservative grazing and this enabled him to survive without having to leave the farm.” It was a tough time said Pieter. “Vleis and dams dried. Windmills clanked in vain over dry boreholes. Grazing withered and eventually even the karoo bush disappeared. Barren land stretched into the distance as far as the eye could see. Across the Karoo farmers were forced to abandoned their land. Shepherds became drovers as stock was driven great distances in search of grazing. The railways offered preferential rates for the transport of livestock to any area where grazing was available.” Severe financial constraints made it impossible for very many of the farmers to trek and, as the drought wore on, their animals became too weak to travel. Slaughter stock was in poor condition and far too lean to be sent to the abattoirs In any event there were very few buyers,” said Pieter.

And, then came the depressoin

The worst thing about the Great Drought was that it coincided with the Great Depression - a terrible time for farmers and almost everyone else in the country. Many farmers left because they could not afford to stay. Animals stood forlornly about without food or water, abandoned by owners who could not afford to keep them. They simply waited patiently to die. Dead and dying sheep were everywhere. Swollen carcasses lay all over the veld decaying in the fierce heat. By the end of September 1933 millions of sheep and cattle had been lost. Hundreds of farmers searched for “relief jobs.” Prime Minister Barry Hertzog called on the people to turn to God, confess their sins and pray for help. The change came in October when some showers were reported at various spots in the drought stricken area. The people rejoiced and gave thanks. Then, the rains came in earnest and by the end of November rivers were in flood and dams overflowing. Farmers deserted their “relief jobs” and raced back to their farms. They dispayed an amazing resilience. Everyone was keen to start again.

Aand now there are bones

The early travellers reported vast herds. They wrote of steenbuck, bushbuck, reedbuck, oribi, hartebeest, kudu, buffalo, lion, wildebeest, springbuck, ostrich, hippo and rhino said Schwarz who dated the drying of the Karoo to the disappearance of the Kalahari lakes in 1820. He said the configuration of the Karoo around Beaufort West was the same as around Cradock, but only much drier. He drew attention to the fact that the Bushmen named the Gamka River for the number of lions on its banks and Zeekoeigat, north-east of Prince Albert, because a deep hollow always held sufficient pools for hippos. There were other similarly named places across the Karoo. “When we dig along the banks of these dry rivers in the Gouph, Beaufort West and Prince Albert areas we find almost everywhere the bones of large game, including hippo. This indicates that tropical animals requiring vast amounts of food existed along the rivers where now only small stock can live, says Schwarz in The Kalahari or Thirstland Redemption. At Beer Vlei, north of Willowmore, Barrow in 1797 described “a plain of several miles long at the foot of the Black Mountain.” He said it seemed to be “the reservoir of a number of periodical rivers whose sources are in the Nuweveld, Winterberg and Camdeboo Mountains.” One was running at the time of Barrrow’s visit. It had “a considerable current,” but was “as salt as brine”. Others, some fresh, had less current. These streams “fell into a valley skirted with tall mimosas which spread into a forest. This was a delightful spot in the middle of a barren desert and it afforded shelter, food and water to a vast variety of game.” Schwarz said droughts had driven the

And then came the rains

The year 1877 was a traumatic one for the Molteno and Jackson families who farmed at Nelspoort. In The Jacksons of Nelspoort, Dr A O Jackson records that a drought which started two years before had taken severe toll of the stock. “He writes that two-thirds of the small stock and many head of cattle were dead and that they had had to kill thousands of lambs just as they were born,” says Pieter. “Men were heartbroken – women wept. Most farmers agreed they had not experienced such a drought before. Many wondered whether they would survive. It was extremely serious and there were no high product prices to help them through. All but the most urgent expenditure was curtailed. Farm hands were laid off and George Holden, a most trusted employee was asked to find employment elsewhere, (everyone knew that it would be a case of “if he could” but no one dared voice the words.)” In The Life and times of Sir John Charles Molteno, his son, Percy, refers to the effect the drought had on his father, at the time was Prime Minister of the Cape. “Owing to the terrible drought which devastated the Colony in the later years of his administration, his private affairs were in need of his personal care.” The next year, 1878 was also a poor one with very little relief, and then the rains came. “They wreaked their own sort of havoc. In 1879 floods were reported across the arid zone and these torrents caused almost as much devastation at the droughts,” writes Peter.

Dynamic Jewish brothers helped open the Hinterland

In the 19th century most Jews leaving Germany in search of better lives chose to go to the United States. Before the discovery of gold and diamonds very few came to South Africa because it was considered a wild place. Those who did come to “this wilderness” faced great difficulties. Most were forced by the Dutch East India Company to convert to Christianity. Some claimed to be Spanish, says Professor Sander Gilman, an expert in German cultural history, because they did not want to be known by the derogatory term of “Rhineland traders”. Nevertheless many played a vital role in opening up the hinterland, particularly the Karoo, and building up the economy of this vast inland area. Among them were Maximilian Thalwitzer, Gabriel Kilian and the Mosenthal brothers. Max specialised in developing Merino sheep and exporting wool and Gabriel was a general merchant. Joseph Mosenthal, Gabriel’s cousin who came to South Africa in 1837 to assist him. Within a year he was offered a partnership. In 1841 after the death of his two sons and Alexa Waldeck, the first of his four wives, Joseph returned to Kassel and persuaded his brothers Adolph and Julius to join him in South Africa. They eagerly accepted and arrived in Algoa Bay in November 1842 with a shipload of goods to sell. Within days the Mosenthals had opened a store in Port Elizabeth and within weeks had expanded to Graaff-Reinet. Soon branches were popping up all over the country and they needed staff. Almost half the Jews who came to South Africa between 1845 and 1870 came as a result of Mosenthal’s rapid expansion and need for manpower, writes Adam Yamey in an article in Stambaum. “ These brothers certainly made a major contribution to the development of the hinterland.”

No money, please, we're gentlemen

Graaff-Reineters boasted of becoming “quite a lively place” in 1854. The Graaff-Reinet Herald of Wenesday, July 19, 1854, stated: “What with Dissolving Views, the Races and now two Cricket Clubs we are going ahead surprisingly well. To be sure there is very little business doing right now and this melancholy fact doubtless accounts for a loss of gaiety. But, be that as it may, we have the satisfaction of announcing that on Monday July 31, a grand match will be played between our local clubs. The challenge, given by The Tradesmen was cordially accepted by The Gentlemen, with the proviso that the match should be for bats and balls and not for money. Most find this an agreeably English custom. The number of spectators is expected to be quite considerable, as the match has excited a good deal of interest throughout town. Both parties feel quite confident of winning.”

A hunting we will go ....

In mid July 1856 Robert Bain of Quagga’s Valley, one of William Southey’s farms, and George Murray of Naudesberg, with his youngest brother Walter, rode over the mountains to the extensive flats around Cephanjes Poort, Kol Hoek and Zaayfontein, to hunt mainly wildebeest and springbok. According to The Graaff-Reinet Herald of July 26, they were most successful, and in three days shot 88 springbok and two wildebeest, or gnus, which were nearly all in excellent condition. “Many of the springbok were as fat as such game can be. The strong wagon they had taken was so heavily laden with these 90 carcasses that some difficulty was experienced in getting all this quantity of venison back to the home of the hunters. Nothing, however, was left behind or lost. The weather was cold; and residents of the area proclaimed that fresh meat would keep for a month in such conditions without any salt.” Bain and the Murray brothers made plenty of biltong. A friend, R. Wilson, who was to have been part of the hunt, suffered a bad accident on the first day. His horse lost its footing as it started to gallop and fell. The stock of his rifle was smashed and he was obliged to retire.

Drought - the curse of the arid zone

These days radio and TV news bulletins bring distressing stories of the crippling drought in the Eastern Cape Karoo region right into our homes. Heartbreaking pictures of cracked earth and emaciated stock build a painful awareness of the plight of farmers in that area. Those who know the Karoo realize drought is a constant threat always lurking in the shadows. Nelspoort farmer Pieter Lund has monitored the recurring droughts of the Great Karoo. Intrigued by the many tales of hardship during drought conditions that have now and then appeared in Round-up he decided to share a series of stories. “In the 1920s, my late father, Gustav Lund, wrote to the Landbank outlining details of the trials and tribulations he had experienced during a three year drought which started in 1925,” writes Pieter. “This drought was so severe that it led to a serious slump in wool and meat markets. As the drought spread there was mounting concern about the international financial relations and as its grip tightened South African commercial banks curtained almost all overdrafts. Months and months went by without any relief. Across the country people were hoping and praying for rain. There was no grazing, all veld resources were depleted and water was scarce. The situation was desperate right across the arid zone.”

Gustav Lund did everything in his power to save his sheep. Then, just as he was about to give up hope, he received a telegram from James Lamb of Lamb and Company in Port Elizabeth. It read: Trek. Save your stock. We will finance you.” According to an entry in his diary on May 18, 1927, he dashed off immediately. “I rushed off to Bechuanaland through Douglas and Kuruman, crossed the Ghaapse Berg and hired grazing at a place called Reivilo. I returned via Kimberley.” The trip took seven days and by the time Gustav got home he had 3700 sheep left. He arranged for them to be railed from Rhenoserkop to Taung. He also arrange for shepherds, their families to accompany the flock and, because he knew they would all have to be at Reivilo for a long time, he sent a wagon and donkey carts as well. It was an arduous journey. Gustav wrote: “The sheep suffered badly on this 700 km journey. Then, once they were off-loaded we had to trek for roughly 85 km across the Ghaapse Berg to reach our destination. All-in-all a month had passed since my initial search for grazing began.” Gustav thought that this was the end of his problems, but sadly it was only the beginning.

This re-location of stock did not work out as well as expected. All hopes of a new beginning were dashed when the grazing did not agree with the sheep. Gustav recorded: “Our hungry sheep started to die from eating the poisonous ‘vermeerbessie’ (Geigeria ornativa). Within six weeks we were forced to cut the throats of close to 1 000 lambs to save the ewes. All around were dead and dying sheep. We could not bury them fast enough. Yet, we had no alternative but to stick to our guns and in this polluted atmosphere to fight for survival, not only for the stock, but also for ourselves, our wives, children and Messrs James Lamb who had paid for it all.”

A measure of relief came when James Lamb visited. “I was touched that he had travelled to this far flung place to visit us,” wrote Gustav. “He was indeed a welcome visitor. His encouraging words, smiling face and deep concern for our plight made me even more determined than ever to fight through and not to disappoint the man and the firm who had had faith in me, my honesty, my ability and determination. A year later I arrived back home with 3025 sheep. We had battled the drought and won. I felt exhausted, but victorious.” Gustav had no way of knowing that an even worse drought was looming. In about five years, in 1933, a worse drought would come and force many farmers to their knees.

Art apart

When W H Rabone moved to Graaff-Reinet he found “a cultured society” there and so decided to offer art classes. To be sure he would not offend anyone he placed an advertisement in the Graaff-Reinet Herald of November, 29, 1854, “begging to inform the inhabitants” that he proposed to start classes for the instruction of “Drawing from Nature.” He could, he said, offer classes for pencil and chalk drawing, such as were taught at modern schools of art and design abroad. He would hold no combined classes, but would devote one evening each week to teaching a limited number of gentlemen and, “in the interests of propriety” offer a completely separate class for ladies at a different date and time. He even arranged for ladies and gentlemen to call at his Parsonage Street home to book their lessons at different times.

Travelling was not always fun - 1700

From the outset adventurous men were drawn to the vast South African interior, but they soon discovered exploring was not easy. Water was the limiting factor and so the map became littered with names indicative of the drought and hardships of travelling. Towards the Sandveld (itself an unfriendly name) lay Knersvlakte (gnashing of teeth) then there was the Koup (caulfat in Khoisan), indicating the driest and dreariest part of the Karoo, which itself is a Khoisan a word for thirstland. Routes were peppered with names like Moedverloor (lost hope), Keerom (turn around) and Allesverloren (all is lost.). Travellers worried whether there was water ahead, if so, where, and would they be able to find it. Finding drinkable water was difficult along the rough, rugged routes into the interior where at times the water was so brack that the animals would not and, sometimes simply could not, drink it. Some water holes were impossible to find without a guide and, in times of severe drought even these men refused to travel. Then came the rains and with them new problems. Roads became so slippery in places that travellers were forced to dismount and lead their horses. The poor animals slipped and stumbled on the rough rocks, often cutting their legs to ribbons.

In the late 1700s Carl Peter Thunberg and Francois Masson wrote that they had reached "the Carro, a desart (desert) of three day's journey, with no fresh water." They mention hoping to find even pits of brackish water, "enough to preserve the lives of our cattle." These pits, however, often were a distance from the road and this made it difficult for strangers to find them. "If we miss them we will probably perish in this inhospitable desert." At one stage their draught animals were so thirsty their tongues were hanging out of their mouths. Suddenly a lake appeared on the road ahead and they rushed towards it only to find it was a salt lake. Fortunately by nightfall they found a fresh water spring. The area might have been inhospitable, but the people were not. The early travellers write of nothing but friendliness. On this particular trip Thunberg and Masson met a farmer heading home and making better time along the road than they were. He left white rags tied to thorn trees at every watering spot so that they would easily find places to refresh themselves and their animals. Another farmer, also hastening home, sent back his servants to assist them over particularly rugged places and up a mountain pass.

Exhilration beyond measure - 1890

Olive Schreiner loved the Karoo. On March 25, 1890, she wrote to Havelock Ellis saying she was going to put on her hat and "go out for a walk over the Karoo, where such a sense of exhilaration and freedom comes over me." At the time she was living at Matjiesfontein, where she had "a tiny bedroom in a little house built of iron". She wrote: "In a few days I am to have three rooms in a brick cottage all to myself.' Describing the area she continued: "This is a wide, long plain with one or two little koppies on it: I am going to walk to one this morning. There are no farms or homesteads: The only place is this. It consists of the railway station, Logan's House, and a row of outbuildings or cottages of which mine will be one. There is not a tree in the veld, nor a bush in the mountain, as far as the eye can see. The water is brought from a long way off in iron pipes. Even near the house there is not a tree or bush except a few little blue gum saplings that Logan put in about four months ago; they are nearly the only things that would grown here." Matjiesfontein was a peaceful place: "The event of the day," she wrote, "is when twice in the twenty-four hours a railway train sweeps by."

Sherlock to the rescue - 1801

Graaff-Reinet's Resident Commissioner, Honoratus Christiaan David Maynier, was extremely unpopular. Dissatisfaction with his services reached a peak during 1801 when he was accused of harbouring "a force" of between 200 and 400 vagrants at the Drostdy. To the horror of some locals he also made loopholes in the walls of the church claiming this necessary for its defence. Lieutenant Duncan Stewart, who spoke Dutch fluently, and who was in command of the company of Khoisan soldiers, was detailed to defend the church if it was attacked by local burghers. The situation became so volatile that Government wisely decided to recall Magistrate Maynier and, in 1801, sent Major Francis Sherlock to Graaff-Reinet to settle affairs. Sherlock persuaded 147 of the "vagrants" to enlist for one year in the Hottentot Corps. Each recruit was given a shirt and a pair of trousers. A ticklish problem arose when Sherlock used the church at as a temporary barracks for his troops. This greatly upset locals who complained about damage being done to the building. The Church Council were most unhappy to have "heathen, vagrants and infringers of the law." in their place of worship. They said "the place looks worse than a horse-stable." Governor Francis Dundas directed Sherlock to "see that the church was kept tidy and to evacuate the building every Sunday so that the regular sermon could take place." The Governor also granted 300 Rixdollars to repair the building. Despite this Sherlock was not able to get the unrest under control.

Station-master creates a winning garden - 1890

At the turn of the last century Matjiesfontein's station had a prize winning rock garden of Karoo plants. It repeatedly won the South African Railways prize for the best station garden in the country. Its creator, Joseph Archer, came to the Cape in 1890 and joined the Railways, as a foreman. He was later promoted to station master and worked at several places before moving to Matjiesfontein. In 1925 Joseph was appointed the first curator of the Karoo Garden at Whitehill station, about five kilometers from Matjiesfontein. It became a branch of the National Botanic Gardens at Kirstenbosch. With Prof. R.H. Compton, the Director of Kirstenbosch, and others Archer undertook several collecting trips into the Karoo, the north-western parts of the Cape Province and Namibia, bringing together a large and representative collection of succulents and other plants from these arid regions. He also successfully cultivated many of these plants at Whitehill. He retired as curator in 1939, after which the garden was moved to Worcester. Archer did much to promote the popularity of succulent cultivation in South Africa, and several plant species were named in his honour.

'Johnnies' buried in Karoo - 1877

Three Johnnies, as the St John Ambulance Brigade men who came to South Africa during the Anglo-Boer War were known, are buried in the Karoo. Casualties suffered by the SJAB in South Africa from 1899 to 1902 were discussed by Professor Kay de Villiers and P Beighton in an article in the Military History Journal Vol 10 No 5. They point out that the Order of St John was founded in Jerusalem during the Crusades in the 12th century. It was a religious order dedicated to taking care of the sick. "thereafter, the Knights Hospitaller of the Order had a long and eventful history and established links in many countries. The British order was dissolved by Henry VIII in 1540 and only revived in the 19th century – in 1877 – when a military surgeon, Major Peter Shepherd and his colleague Colonel Francis Duncan started teaching First Aid to lay persons. This became St John Ambulance Brigade. There was great enthusiasm for this brigade in the coal mining and industrial areas where there were frequent accidents. SJAB skilled personnel and ambulances saved many lives. The brigade thrived within police forces fire departments and the railway. Victorian values, discipline and altruism played a major role in its development. Soon after the outbreak of the Anglo-Boer war it became obvious that the Royal Army Medical Corps would not be able to cope with the casualties from wounds and disease. St John Ambulance Brigade called for men to volunteer to serve six months in South Africa. Volunteers came forward in large numbers. The first 23 sailed on November 3, 1899. In time about 1800 SJAB volunteers came to South Africa and approximately 60 of them died here from enteric fever (typhoid) which they contracted from their patients. Buried at Imperial Yeomanry Hospital at Deelfontein in the Karoo are Private Joseph VL Barrett, Great Western Railway (attached to the Metropolitan Corps) who died on August 6, 1900, and Sgt Charles E Wilmore, National Fire Brigades, who died of double pneumonia on January 1, 1901. Both were 21 years old. Another SJAB volunteer, Pte George Pickels, of the Hebden Bridge Corps, is buried at Noupoort. He died of enteric fever on May 8, 1900.

Smooth talking doctor causes trouble - 1786

When Graaff-Reinet was established in the horseshoe bend of the Sundays River on July 19, 1786, that part of the Karoo was far from peaceful. Things were so bad that the first magistrate, Mauritz Otto Woeke, took to drink. His successor Magistrate Maynier was inefficient and caused great dissention throughout the district. A medical man, Dr Jan Pieter Woyer, rode into this mess to serve the community as district surgeon, but all he did was cause further dissention. The town was still suffering from the effects of the Second Frontier War when he and the schoolmaster began inciting all who would listen to Jacobean sentiments. The farmers were easy prey to the tales told by these two smooth-talking men. Many felt greatly encouraged when the doctor told them that a combined fleet of Dutch and French vessels was on its way to help the Graaff-Reinet rebels and to sort our affairs at the Cape in general. Woyer in time managed to make his way to Batavia where he persuaded the Dutch Government that the Graaff-Reinet rebels were in great need of arms and ammunition. They believed him and he managed to return to South Africa with a ship load of arms. In the end, however, the people of Graaff-Reinet saw through Woyer, denounced him and he disappeared.

History preserved in stone - 1742

Nieuwoudtville lies on the Bokkeveld escarpment between Knersvlakte and the Hantam. The town's story can be traced back to 1700 and the lovely loan farm, Groenrivier, which was granted to Michiel Heyns. A widow, Keesje Heufke, took the farm over from him in 1731, and. Lieutenant Nicolaas Laubscher later lived on it 1742 to 1783. It was he who built the sand stone homestead. Its ruins are still visible on the farm. By November 1, 1828, Hermais Cornelis Nieuwoudt, was registered at the owner and at that time many other Nieuwoudts, McGregors and Nels farmed nearby. All these families needed a church. Community leaders met on the farm Willemsrivier in 1892 and decided to buy Groenrivier. Negotiations were completed by 1897, the purchase price of £2100 was paid. By June, surveyor E B Watermeyer began measuring up erven. He stayed in a tiny Karoo stone house which, according to an article by Andreas Bester, in Die Burger of August l9, 1995, still stands behind the old Standard Bank. Sadly, however, it has deteriorated in status and is now only used as a store. Nearby, says Andreas, is the beacon from which Watermeyer commenced his measurements. Nieuwoudtville is one of the few towns which still has its original beacon. In time magnificent sandstone structures were built in this little town, but pride of place goes to the Dutch Reformed Church, which dates back to 1906, and which was declared a national monument. Even the pulpit in the Victorian interior is built of sandstone.

How do I love thee....

According to local lore the Dutch Reformed Church in Cradock is rooted in a love story. Legend has it that this beautiful church, a copy of St Martin's-in-the-Field, in London, was created by the local dominee for his wife, the love of his life. Apparently she was English and pined for her homeland. He loved her so much that he persuaded his church council to have Sir Christopher Wren's design copied for the local church. At last it was finished and indeed it was a beautiful edifice with Corinthean portico, Gothic steeple and a good clock. The towns people were well satisfied, but came the day for the grand opening in September 1868, the builder would not hand over the keys. Dignatories and VIPs began to arrive, but still he stood his ground. He had not been paid in full, he said, and only when his full fee was forthcoming, would he hand over the keys, he said. The church council was red-faced with indignation and so was the building committee. A full hour filled with heated words went by and still he would not relent. Then some leading citizens pledged the outstanding sum – there was a bit more humming and haaing and then persuaded that he could trust these leaders of the community, the builder parted with the keys.

No call - placed by th state

The early churches in South Africa were not free to "call" their ministers. These men were appointed by the State. There was also no free election of church councillors – names of men willing to serve had to be submitted to the magistrates of the little villages at the end of each year and these were passed to the Governor for approval and appointment. Yet Beaufort West's Scottish parson, Colin Fraser, had his own way of thumbing his nose at such autocratic authority. He forwarded all his correspondence to the Government in Dutch, despite the fact that there were clear regulations stating that this had to be done in English. Sir George Napier found it most odd that a Scottish minister would "insist in constantly sending us Dutch documents." He regularly returned all Fraser's reports with terse notes attached stating: "to be translated according to the rule." Most times he simply got them back again – still in Dutch - so in the long run it was much simpler and faster to translate them in Cape Town. Most of the Dutch farmers of the hinterland considered the Scottish ministers who came out to serve them "gifts from God." They loved these men, respected and revered them. Most of the Scottish ministers in turn became true Afrikaners.

A picnic that almost ended in disaster - 1850

The Somerset East\Cradock area was a dangerous place in the mid-1850s yet this did not put locals off. They often set off to enjoy a day picnicking in the veld. And, so it was that on one Saturday in February, 1853, a group of 50 youngsters accompanied by "ten gentlemen" gambolled off into the veld to enjoy the Spring air and sunshine. Their route led to the mountains and a delightful spot near a waterfall. They gave no thought to the fact that several head of cattle had been stolen in the area only a few days before. After all this was not unusual. Some threw blankets on the ground, started a fire and began unpacking food, while others, hot from the long walk, leapt into the pool beneath the waterfall. Little did they know keen eyes had monitored their approach, nor that they were near one of the raiding parties. Two adults discovered this when they set off into the kloof to "bag a buck for lunch." Armed with rifles W. Bowker and R Hart, had only got a short way into the kloof when they saw a young Xhosas lookout virtually in front of them. He was so well camouflaged they would have missed him had he not brushed a fly from his face. Bowker raised his gun to fire, but Hart stopped him. They had no idea how many rustlers were in the area and the children were very close by. Realising he had been spotted the young man bolted and with that Hart and Bowker saw several more Xhosas rise from the nearby grass and flee. They gave chase. They heard one man slip, fall and hit the ground. Bowker fired, hoping to scare the marauders. When he and Hart reached the spot where the man had fallen they found that he had been injured because there was blood on the ground. It left a trail which they were easily able to follow into a krantz.

Hot on the heels of the cattle rustlers Bowker and Hart closely followed the little trail of blood. They had not even paused to think they may have been rushing headlong into an ambush, their thoughts centred around driving these Xhosa men away and warding off an attack on the picnickers. The trail led into a hole in the rocks and once they went through it they found an almost inaccessible, virtually invisible hiding place concealed by an immense quantity of carefully placed wood. A steep path, which could only safely be traversed by one man at a time, led to a summit and from there down into a cave. It was an excellent stronghold, totally invisible and easily be defended, if necessary, by only one or two men. Hart, who had climbed the steep path, was horrified at finding such a place so close to his father's homestead, yet he realised how those who straggled behind fending off the commandos, allowing the raiding parties to make a clear getaway, had so often been able to disappear into thin air. He and Bowker ran back to the picnic party, terminated the event abruptly and everyone set off for home. The following day a party of farmers were led to the spot by Hart and Bowker. They set fire to the wooden structure and exposed a large cave well set up as a hiding place. They also followed their spoor of the rustlers for a few kilometres, found a place where an ox had been slaughtered, but shortly afterwards the ground became very rocky and the trail ran dry. The picnickers felt they had had a lucky escape. They dramatically told the villagers that if they had begun adventuring about they may have walked right into an ambush of raiders.

Glimpses of the Karoo, as described by Thelma Gutsche in The Microcosm -1852

Drought and locusts are the curse of the Karoo. Many early writers describe both. Magistrate Stockenström, did this in the mid-1800s riding back and forth across his stricken territory. He wrote to Lord Charles Somerset describing pitiful conditions in a vast area which for years had been in the grips of severe drought and supported petitions of farmers to be allowed to cross the Orange River to save their stock. The Governor reluctantly agreed insisting that they return when the rains came. He was only too aware that once frontier farmers moved northwards to new pastures they seldom returned. The farmers moved and at times the Cis-Gariep was completely abandoned, writes Thelma Gutsche in The Microcosm. Of course, the rains eventually came, but with them came locusts "and after the locusts, the trekbokken – the strange mass migration of springbok. These buck seemed to congregate in tens of thousands in unknown parts and then come down towards the Colony like a flood, devouring all the grazing in their path." One magistrate reported "locusts in number exceeding anything the imagination can fancy" adding that "they eat up the grass as it springs and rob the exhausted cattle of support." Writing from Graaff-Reinet in 1827, Stockenström had worse to tell. "An unprecedented plague of locusts is devouring the livelihood of farmers' right before their eyes. The country is in a frightful state," wrote Stockenström. "The locusts have left nothing, the drought continues, cattle are dying by the hundreds and there is no market for what remains." The animals were too thin and butchers could not afford to cross the Karoo to collect such a poor quality product.

The immense heat of Karoo droughts brought problems for humans as well as animals. In The Microcosm Thelma Gutsche writes that the great heat of 1852 was accompanied by locusts and a fever like typhus. This affected the entire Colesberg district and absorbed all of the energies of the local medic, Dr Orpen. All races suffered and many people, among them children, died. Infections, particularly measles and typhoid constantly swept across the district and its "healthy" reputation seemed founded only on pulmonary cases. "But, then there was little notion of hygiene in early Karoo towns. Travellers constantly complained of the streets of Colesberg. These were full of refuse, stones and dead cats. There were no pavements and the spruits, which burst their banks during rainstorms often lapped at the doors of homes, stores and warehouses. Carts, wagons, tree trunks, poles, planks, huge scales and massive weights, as well as the inevitable stones, rocks, and boulders, impeded the progress of pedestrians, making walking very difficult.

The contrasts between religious persuasions of farmers and townsfolk became quite striking on Sundays and provided some memorable sights, particularly in Colesberg. "The landed gentry of the district would come to town in traditional style a day or two before the service. Their dress hardly varied from their pioneering days – 30 or more years before. Men wore colourful embroidered waist coats under short blue jackets with six brass buttons and stand up collars, white calico shirts - without a tie - yellow moleskin (a kind of corduroy) trousers - ending above the ankles - no socks and home made veldskoens. They also wore large locally made hats of a kind of felt compacted from local wool. To these some added an ostrich plume. In their pockets farmers carried a dassie-skin bag containing home-cured tobacco, a stone pipe with a long horn stem and a bowl covered by a silver cap attached by a silver chain. They also carried a small brass tongs to pluck a coal from an outspan fire to light their pipes and to scrape them clean. Some had a tinder box, flint and steel. Women wore high waisted voerschitz dresses, shawls, huge kappies and veldskoens without stockings, whereas ladies of the town preferred Victorian styles and modes. Oppulent families rode to church in carriages drawn by teams of greys, roans, chestnuts, bays, blacks, in fact horses of virtually every colour pranced up the main street every a Sunday. The Doppers were no less rich and proud, but their appearance varied. The men wore their hair long and cut off square near the nape of the neck and in a fringe above the eyebrows. Disproving of moustaches and beards they shaved clean except for a surrounding fringe beginning with whiskers and ending under the chin. Their wives were drab by comparison and children dressed identically to their parents. "No records exist telling us what the Boeremense thought of the townsfolk in their stove-pipe hats, fussy cravats, spongebag trousers and incipient crinolines," writes Thelma Gutsche in the Microcosm.

Rindepest signalled the end of the road - 1860

Transport riders evolved to serve the needs of the developing hinterland towns and vanished with the coming of the rail. Over the years these men brought wagon loads of supplies from the coast to inland destinations initially using traditional ox wagons, which carried about 1 800 kg. These soon became was too small and in 1860 a new transport wagon came into production. Far bigger than the traditional wagon it had side rails and a half tent. The braking system was also completely changed No longer did the driver have to rely on a brake shoe to slow down or stop the wagon. Brake blocks were fitted to the rear wheels and operated by means of a screw. These new wagons, drawn by teams of 16 to 20 oxen, could carry loads of up to 4 500kg. "Normally they travelled in only two shifts a day – from 02h00 to an hour after sunrise and in the evening from 16h00 to 22h00," writes Jose Burman in Towards the far Horizon - The story of the ox-wagon in South Africa. "The drivers chased cattle well into the veld, away from the road to graze. This ensured their good condition. Living quarters were in the half-tent at the rear where simple furniture, clothes, food, and cooking utensils were stored. The discovery of gold and diamonds gave the impetus for railway development, but it was slow and about 18 500 wagons traveled the roads to Kimberley before the railway reached there in 1885. Then, a new route - the eastern route into the Transvaal – attracted drivers, but the rindepest, struck and by 1897, ruthlessly destroyed the transport rider's world. Over 500 000 oxen died effectively ending the era of ox-drawn wagons. Transport riders switched to mules, but the Anglo-Boer War (1899-1902) broke out and finally finished the independent transport riders as both wagons and mules were conscripted by the army.

Damn fine story - 1922

Small places are often guardians of wonderful tales. Darlington, a tiny hamlet, which ended in a dam, is a case in point. It was officially founded in 1905 by a hawker and Eastern Cape farmer, P.W.F. Weyers, who harboured a life-long grudge against the Boers because they shot and killed two of his cows on Bedrogsfontein Pass during the Anglo-Boer War. Weyers's farm in time grew into a settlement with fruit orchards, vineyards, hotel, post office, shop, smithy and several houses. One of the hamlet's best-known inhabitants was Dr Reginald Koettlitz, the senior medical officer who travelled with Captain Robert Scott's first expedition to Antarctica (1901-1904). When blame was laid at his door because Scott's men contracted scurvy, he returned to South Africa and took refuge in Darlington. He later moved to Cradock where he is buried. Darlington disappeared when Lake Mentz was built to supply irrigation water to Sundays River Valley farmers in 1922. The first chairman of the Irrigation Board was Sir Percy Fitzpatrick, author of Jock of the Bushveld, who said: "Colonel Hendrik Mentz, then Minister of Land Affairs, granted permission for the building of the dam, but he was not popular, so when it was suggested that the dam be named in his honour someone exclaimed: 'Oh, damn Mentz!' 'No,' came a prompt retort, 'Lake Mentz!'" The name was changed to Darlington Dam in 1990.

An agreeable old english custom! - 1854

Graaff-Reinet was considered to be "quite lively place" in 1854. "What with the Dissolving Views, the Races and our Cricket Clubs, we are really going ahead," reported The Graaff-Reinet Advertiser. "To be sure there is very little business going on just now but, in the midst of this melancholy, we will find some gaiety in the celebration of a Grand Match, on July 31, between our two Cricket Clubs. The challenge was given by The Tradesmen and cordially accepted by The Gentlemen. This altercation, will be for bats and balls – an agreeable old English custom – and not for money. The number of spectators is expected to be considerable, as both parties feel quite confident of a win."

Early forgers fled into the karoo - 1791

The wagon route to Carnarvon wound through Schietfonteinspoort, which some called Kareeberge-poort, and past a lonely grave. This is the grave of Carel Kruger, or Krieger, once a veldwachtmeester of the Roggeveld. Together with his brother Jacob, he forged a large sum of money in the late 1700s. The two went to Cape Town and bought supplies with this, but their scam was discovered and they were arrested. They escaped and fled northwards into the Great Karoo. Nevertheless, in their absence they were sentenced – Carel to hang and his brother to 15 years with hard labour. They paid no heed and for years evaded the law. They wandered among the Korannas, fighting, stealing and generally living a hand to mouth existence. People of the area called them "the fearless nimrods," writes M C Kitshoff in Kudde van Carnarvon. Then one day while out on a hunting trip in 1791, Carel shot and wounded an elephant. The enraged animal turned, charged and trampled Carel to death. Jacob, who was later granted amnesty, buried Carel's remains right there and neatly packed Karoo stones on his grave. It became a landmark. Borcherds refers to it as Krugersfontein, Lichtenstein, called it Graffontein and others refer to it either as Karelsgraf or Kriegersgraf.

'Manna' goes to a second reprint - 1860 Tel No 083-661-0809 (Craig Elstob)

Manna in the Desert, a book about life in the Karoo in the late 1800s is again being reprinted. Written by Alfred de Jager Jackson, when he was 80 and first published in 1920, it is a poignant story that captures the spirit of the region in the 1860s. Copies of the original are in great demand and fetch prices of R1000 at second hand dealers if they can be found. Details of the reprint are available from Alfred's great grandson, Craig Elstob.

Dreams of a happy famaly farm end in loneliness - 1841

John Charles Molteno was a dynamic man. He first saw the Karoo as a fatherless lad of 17. By 23 he had founded Molteno and Company, a firm dealing specifically in the sale of wine, wool, meat and aloes. When the bottom dropped out of the wine market he sold his business and warehouses to the Government. He liked the Karoo and in 1840 bought a farm north of Beaufort West, in the Nelspoort area, and appointed a man called Naylor, to manage it for him. As early as 1841 Molteno decided that the Karoo was excellent sheep country and sent two Saxon Merino rams he had purchased from Europe to his farm. The locals laughed. They said he knew as much about sheep as they knew about him. Within five years, however, he'd made a great success of his farming enterprises and merinos were part of Beaufort West farming scene. His farm was a showpiece – with good kraals, dams and irrigation furrows, wheat and orchards. Many said his fierce and desperate work resulted from loneliness because soon after he brought his young wife and baby to the farm in 1843 both died. For quite a while in letters to his mother in England he claimed to be lost and alone. Once the farm was "ship-shape" he moved into Beaufort West to build up a business and help establish a bank.

Hazards of the early roads - 1902

In 1902 Frank Connock bought a two cylinder Gladiator from Albert Atkey, learned to drive within hours and set off for Mafeking. He completed the 320 trip in a single day - an unprecedented in those days because few were willing to risk their expensive cars on South Africa's appalling roads. In 1907 Frank shot into the record books by completing the first coast to coast car trip ever undertaken in South Africa with world traveller Robert L Jefferson. They drove from Durban to Cape Town via Johannesburg. This trip took 16 days and, at that time, was the longest car trip yet made. The previous year Frank Dumat and Frank Whittaker drove from Johannesburg to Durban in a much bigger car, but refused to return because the roads were so bad. During the same year Count de Rivetera had attempted a trip from Johannesburg to Cape Town trip, in a 6 hp De Dion Bouton. He got no further than the Karoo. There he became stuck in dreadful sand drifts and had to complete the journey by rail. Aware of the terrors of the Karoo Frank armed himself with picks, shovels and stakes, as well as block and tackle and huge cans of petrol.

The drive through the Karoo, claimed Frank Connock, was the most exciting adventure he had ever experienced. . "At times we slithered and slipped down embankments, at others we had to engage first gear to plough through seemingly unending 'seas' of fine sand. We were reduced to our last gallon of petrol by the time we at last reached Beaufort West." From there on we were sure that things were going to improve. We 'jogged' steadily along at the record-breaking speed of 16 km an hour despite the fact that it was necessary to change gears every 50 yards or so because of the deep "sluits and wash-outs across the road," he told Margaret Kavanagh who wrote Wheels, The Frank Connock Story. "On a smooth piece of road just south of Beaufort West I decided to 'open up' for a little 'flutter' of speed' and this almost proved my undoing. The car suddenly hurtled off the road and into a wash-a-way breaking four blades of a back spring. We had to limp to Laingsburg at 5km an hour and find a friendly blacksmith to assist us." The worst thing about the trip, said Frank was gates. "We seemed to have opened and closed thousands on this trip!" Just outside Cape Town Frank and Robert heard a horrifying screech coming from the gear box. "We dared not stop. We shot out, dosed it with oil and grease and sped on." All went well, we arrived safely, but never discovered what caused the noise. To Frank wheels represented much more than a means of simply getting from one place to another. He went on to become one of the country's major motor dealers and he used wheels to campaign for better roads through the country. He also used his long association with wheels to make a meaningful contribution towards improving South Africa's transport systems.

The ghost wagon of the great karoo - 1887

Several old South African maps show the region between Ceres and Beaufort West as the "spokeveld (ghost region)" It was said to be one of the most heavily haunted areas of South Africa. In 1887 Major Alfred Ellis of the West India Regiment documented a tale in South African Sketches which he said had been told to him by a man named Lutterodt. It seems that one year in November, Lutterodt and three companions – a man named Seururier, another called Anthony de Heer and a visitor from Cape Town - were travelling from Ceres to Beaufort West. Along the way one of the wagon wheels gave trouble. They had to stop to fix it, so their trip was considerably delayed. It took the driver most of the night to fix the wheel and they were only able to set off in earnest at about 03h00. They had not been underway for long when they noticed that their horses were becoming considerably agitated, yet there was no other vehicle in sight. Suddenly the horses froze and were only encouraged forward by a series of clicking and coaxing noises made by the driver. Then, quite unexpectedly suddenly everyone heard the sound of a wagon hurtling towards them, but they could not see it. Amid the noise of pounding hooves and rumbling wheels, they clearly heard the shouts of the driver, and his cracking whip. Then a wagon pulled by 14 wild-eyed mules hurtled into sight. It was headed straight for them. Their horses screamed. Lutterodt, Seururier and the Captonian threw themselves from the cart. De Heer grabbed the reins and managed to haul their vehicle out of the way of the on-coming cart. "Where do you think you are going? he shouted. "To hell," cried the other driver, "To hell!" The on-coming wagon vanished into the night. What they did not know then, said Lutterodt, was that anyone who challenges the driver of the phantom wagon is doomed. De Heer paid the price. A week later his body was found beside the remains of his shattered wagon and dead horses at the bottom of Hottentot's Kloof.

Magic sheep or sheep magic

The Karoo is widely hailed as excellent sheep country. Its mutton is world famous and most know nothing beats sheep skin for preventing bed sores. Few, however, realise that sheep are surrounded by a great deal of folklore. Way back the great Roman orator Pliny observed: "while oxen help us cultivate our fields, it is to sheep that we are indebted for the defence of our bodies." Karoo air has long been considered an excellent cure for chest complaints, however, in ancient times those suffering from consumption and respiratory diseases were told to "walk among sheep breathing deeply all the time." Some recommended standing at the door of a shed in which sheep had been penned overnight and breathe deeply as they ran out in the morning. Old timers believed a child could be cured of whooping cough if it was taken out to a sheep meadow to breathe the air before the dew had vanished. Some said a sick child should be taken out before dawn, laid in the warm place, left by a sheep which had been driven from the centre of the flock, until sunrise, for its health to rapidly improve, says The History of the Sheep and Wool.. And, there were those who believed that a flock of sheep should be driven through a house where for three nights in a row eradicate all germs after a serious infection. Early South African pioneers recommended sheep's blood as a cure for ringworm and melted sheep's fat for croup. If a child was slow in walking, they said, it should be left standing for a while in water in which a sheep's head and trotters had been washed.

From trains to karoo plants - 1890

Soon after Joseph Archer stepped ashore in Cape Town in 1890 he joined the Railways, but his destiny lay in botanical circles. His career path led from station foreman to station master at several small places and eventually took him to Matjiesfontein. Joseph loved the Karoo and at Matjiesfontein station developed a rock garden to show off its plants. Time and time again this garden won the award for the best station garden in South Africa, says historic researcher Professor Cornelis Plug. The garden was enjoyed by train and road travellers alike. Many motoring along the hot, dry, dusty, Cape to Cairo route through the Karoo, stopped at Matjiesfontein to see it. In 1925 Joseph was appointed the first curator of the Karoo garden, a branch of the National Botanic Gardens at Kirstenbosch, which had been laid only out a few years earlier at Whitehill, 5 km from Matjiesfontein. With experts like Prof R H Crompton, director of Kirstenbosch, Joseph undertook many trips through the Karoo, north-western Cape and Namibia to collect plants. He brought these back to Whitehill, where he built up a huge collection of succulents and other dryland plants. After he retired as curator in 1939 the garden was moved to Worcester where authorities felt it would be more accessible to the public.

Impressed by the smallholders, but not by the dam - 1895

When Robert Wallace visited Beaufort West in 1895 he found it an interesting area from an agricultural point of view. In Farming Industries of the Cape Colony, he writes: "The plains below the mountain have aromatic Karoo bushes suitable for grazing by sheep and goats, while on the top of the mountains, actually a new plateau, these bushes are mostly absent, so the grazing is better suited to cattle and horses." He also mentions an interesting experiment in cultivation under a system of irrigation from a large dam. "This scheme allows a number of smallholders on two-acre plots to do very well growing a succession of farm crops and vegetables irrigated by water from the dam." But, for the dam itself, he saw no future. "The Beaufort West irrigation dam was built by the municipality at a cost of £12 000. The money was borrowed from the Government at 6%. The irrigation community pays as much as £21 annual rent for their plots, but this only provides enough to cover interest on the loan. While amount of money borrowed is not decreasing, the dam is rapidly filling with soil washed in from the Karoo-bush veld from where the water supply is drawn. This veld, furrowed and loosened on the surface is more easily denuded by the trampling of animals as they come and go to and from the dam to drink. In a comparatively short space of time the dam will be filled and the Government will probably be expected to write off its loan," he said. He praised the town for its efforts at growing trees. "Oaks do not thrive because of the presence of brak (salt) in the soil, but Robinias and pear trees do exceptionally well. The mile-long main street is lined with healthy pear trees, making it a picture in spring." The area to the north east of the town, towards Nelspoort, he said, was a rich alluvial plain with no lack of lime. "Good agricultural ground," he said.

Conversion - the route to love - 1828

When Beaufort West's Dutch Reformed Church minister Colin Fraser heard of Anna Amalia Muller's conversion, during a service conducted by Ds Abraham Faure in Graaff Reinet, he was immensely impressed. He instantly wrote her a letter proposing marriage. She replied: "Unknown is unloved. It is impossible for me to consider a marriage proposal from someone I've never met." He immediately dashed to Graaff Reinet to introduce himself. She obviously liked what she saw, because they were married on February 27, 1828. In ten years of marriage she bore him three sons and four daughters (two of whom became teachers and worked in the Beaufort West.) The second son of this marriage, Colin McKenzie Fraser, (born on January 20, 1837) was the first boy born in Beaufort West to study for the ministry. He did this in Scotland and Holland and, after being ordained, returned to South Africa to take up a post in Philippolis. Anna died on September, 22, 1838.

Aberdeen man saved ostriches from extinction - 1890

Max Rose, who arrived in South Africa in 1890 from Shavel, in Lithunia, went straight to Oudtshoorn where he started out as a feather buyer, but in time became such a successful ostrich breeder that he was known throughout the Klein Karoo as the "ostrich king." He told reporters that the ostrich feather boom, of the early 1900s, netted over £2-m a year from international markets. "Demand led to ostriches being ruthlessly hunted and killed for their plumes," he said, "Things got so bad that ostriches were in danger of extinction." An Outdthoorn farmer is credited with saving the birds. According to The S A Jewish Times of February 20, 1948, Joel Myers, who had started as a trader in Aberdeen in the Great Karoo built a great walled enclosure on his farm to keep wild ostriches on his land. Then he regularly rounded them up and plucking them. Others soon followed his example. The slaughter stopped and the birds were saved. Before the 1914 slump in demand for feathers, there were 870 000 mature birds in the Oudtshoorn area alone."

No desert this!

A South African policeman escorting refugees discovered there was much more to the Karoo than he'd been led to believe. During WWI, after the German forces were beaten in South West Africa, Sam Cowley was detailed to take some German refugees from Roberts Heights (Voortrekker Hoogte), outside Pretoria, to Cape Town, so that they could return to their homeland. Sam's commanding officer crisply explained he would have to be responsible for their discipline and welfare while on the train trip across the "desert." A G Bee describes Sam's trip in Keeper of the Highwa: "Sam and the refugees boarded a special train which, after a journey of two days and nights, arrived at Cape Town docks. The refugees arrived hot, dusty, querulous and swearing, but the constable enjoyed the trip." Sam later told friends: "I was told the train would run southwards from Johannesburg, over the highveld of the Free State and across the Karoo Desert. I imagined there would be absolutely nothing to see, but the Karoo is not a desert. It's excellent sheep country, covered by a low silvery scrub. This appears to contain no nourishment, but sheep thrive on it. The Karoo has a beauty that is difficult to explain. Homesteads suddenly appear at clumps of trees near windmills. Beyond these is nothing but scrub and dust. This blows between the flat topped koppies, causing a shimmering in the heat haze and spreading like a mist over limitless flat veld. Now and then a springbok leaps into the air, but there are not the thousands that used to be. The jackal too has been shot and trapped almost to extinction. Rain comes rarely and now and then you pass a stream, but there seems to be plenty of water in the Karoo earth. They say when rain comes the Karoo it's carpeted with little flowers and even more beautiful." There were no flowers when the refugees passed. A hot wind blew and fine dust filtered into the train, filled everyone's eyes, mouths and nostrils. The sun blazed high above the koppies and the heat encouraged passengers to cool their parched throats with good South African wine in the saloon car. The trains's last stop in the Karoo was at Touws River. From there it moved into a greener world.

A place she'd longed for - 1890

Olive Schreiner loved the Karoo. On March 3, 1890, she wrote from Matjiesfontein telling this to Havelock Ellis: Uys Krige quotes her letter in Olive Schreiner. "Now I am going to put my hat on and go out for a walk. Such a sense of wild exhilaration and freedom comes to me when I walk over the Karoo. I have now only a tiny bedroom in the little house built of iron, but in a few days I am to have three rooms in a brick cottage all to myself. I go over to the railway station to have my meals." She then mentions a wide, long plain with one or two little koppies and says: "I am going to walk to one this morning. There are no farms or homesteads; the only place is this (Matjiesfontein). It consists of the railway station, Logan's house, and a row of outbuildings or cottages, one of which will be mine. There is not a tree in the veld, not a bush in the mountains as far as the eye can reach. The water is brought from a long way off in iron pipes. Even near the house there is not a tree or bush except a few little blue gum saplings that Logan put in about four months ago. They are nearly the only things that would grow here. The event of the day is when twice in the 24 hours the railway train sweeps by. In the morning it is the Cape Train on its way up to the Diamond and Gold Fields. It stops at about 9 0'clock and the people get out to have breakfast here. They also leave our mails. At about six in the evening the train from the Diamond Fields passes and stops for half an hour It is curious, and to me very attractive, this mixture of civilisation and the most wild untamed freedom, the barren mountains and wild Karoo and the railway trains. If only my asthma keeps away, this is the place, I have so long been longing for."

Owls, pilgrams and other things - 1875

The attractive little town of Nieu-Bethesda, established in 1875, lies in the southern foothills of the Sneeuberge. Over it towers Compass Berg, which at 2 502m is the highest peak of the range. This mountain was named by Governor Joachim van Plettenberg and Colonel Jacob Gordon in 1778 because from its summit they could "encompass a panoramic view of the whole countryside." The availability of water – generously flowing from perennial mountain streams – led to the choice of this spot for a town in this otherwise arid countryside. These streams inspired Graaff Reinet's Dutch Reformed minister Rev Andrew Murray to chose the name Bethesda, place of flowing waters, from John 5: verse 2-4, for the fledgling village. When he named the town in Dutch, he said "Laten sy dese plaats nu Bethesda noemen. (Let us now name the place Bethesda), but locals mistook his meaning and instead of translating "nu" into "now", they took it to mean "new" and so for ever after the village was known as Nieu Bethesda. Just getting to this delightful village is an adventure of sightseeing along a winding mountain road which affords breathtaking views around each bend. One of the prime attractions is the Owl House, stark, disturbing, haunting, but unforgettable.

A narrow passages and a name forever - 1884

When the railway line form the Karoo to Port Elizabeth was constructed in 1884 it had to pass through a very narrow pass between the Kikvorsberg and the Agter Rhenosterberg mountains. The local Dutch-speaking community referred to this as "naauw poort." When a village was established in this strange little triangle of Karoo veld beneath these mountains, in 1884, it became known as Noupoort. In its day Noupoort, one of the smallest districts of the Great Karoo, became a major sheep farming area and an important Railway junction. Trains, the lifeblood of the village, clanked, puffed and whistled throughout the day and night. Noupoort was a bustling little dorp. It was an important marshalling yard and a staging post for post coaches, but as rail traffic declined, so did the economy of the village and it sank back into a slumber.

Few are so fortunate

The Mid-Karoo is using the works of author Eve Palmer, a "child" of the area, to promote the route. In The Plains of Camdeboo she writes: "Few people have the good fortune to be born in a desert. I was and all my life I have been conscious of my luck." Karoo people, however, do not necessarily think of their land as a desert, she explains. "It's the travellers who do. The people, who for hundreds of years have crossed these arid plains and still do today, call it by this name. And, she says, perhaps they are right "because like other deserts and semi-deserts of the world, ours is a country of life." She adds: "We have only to walk or ride into the veld to know this and be caught up in its pattern: the squat, fat, angled plants; the hunting spiders that flicker between them; the ground squirrels upright beside their burrows; the vultures; the pale wild gladioli; the cobras; the scorpions; the mantis coloured like a flower; the black beetles rolling balls of dung; the koringkrieks lurching on immense crooked legs. Here moves a steenbok, a duiker, a springbuck, a lark clapping its wings above us; here are the tracks of an ant-bear; red dust and mottled eggs; arrowheads; the smell of rain, Karoo bush, wild asparagus, mountains and hills floating in a mirage of water, a white hot sky, the sound of cicadas and wings and wind. This home of my childhood lies on this vast plateau, rimmed by mountains."

Fatty, but tasty name

The Koup tales its name from the Khoi word "ghoup," which means "caul fat." This is the stringy, lacy fat found around organs such as the stomach of sheep or game. It is widely used throughout the Karoo for wrapping pieces of liver, sometimes with interesting fillings, for braaiing. Experts say the Khoi gave this area its unusual name because the brown earth, surrounded by little patches of golden yellow grass reminded them of this fat. In the earliest days farmers struggled across this very arid part of the Karoo in search of water and grazing, which they found at last in the vicinity of the mountains near Beaufort West. This led them to name these mountains the Nuweveldberge, (literally New Veld). They were previously known as the Bosjemansberge, because they were a stronghold of the San. They also offered succour to many vagabonds, evil-doers and law-breakers resulting in this area having a colourful and exciting history. At one stage the area around the Nuweveld was one of the most blood-stained in South Africa. Today, the Koup plays a vital role in the economy of the Great Karoo. Known for its ability to survive the severest droughts, this region produces some of the best mutton in the Karoo, as well as fruit, olives and now garlic.

Not impressed! - 1870

The arid plains of Africa did not impress Melton Prior, war correspondent for the Illustrated London News. From 1870 to 1905 he seems to have covered every major war in the world, but he found South Africa's platteland scenery unbearable and disappointing. He found some of the accommodation on offer even worse. "Each day we push on with renewed vigour only to find that at its end we have arrived at a miserable shanty or store, with the grand title of hotel. The proprietors of these shanties, as a rule, are abominably rude. Often these fellows do not attempt to hide their belief that they are obliging you when they are asked if they can give you a room or put you up for the night. Often they do not even call a servant to show you to your room which, once you find it, has mud floors, broken furniture, dirty bed linen and a myriad of flies to torment you. As for water, that is always trouble. I have more than once been told that if I wanted water I should fetch it myself, or send down to the river for it."

Hospitable to a fault - 1835

In the mid-1800s farmers of the hinterland were said to be "hospitable to a fault." They loved nothing more than endless talk over a pipe and mug of coffee, writes Eric Anderson Walker in The Great Trek. These farmers were related to the people of the Peninsula by blood or marriage, but they "were less touched by outer influences, less versed in book learning, much more easy going in a land where it was always afternoon and more limited in their ideas and interests." They had no interest in England, Europe or India. They never went to Cape Town unless they had to. The 30 mile journey across the sandy Flats was arduous and they considered the people of the Mother City lived at a "flighty pace best shunned by God-fearing people." Self-containedness was the mark of Karoo farm life. Up to 100 souls could live on one under the care of a patriarch, assisted by slaves and servants. They only looked to the outer world for a few luxuries and raw materials. Life in the little villages or "dorpies" was much the same. There community leaders were the Dutch Reformed Church minister, the schoolmaster and the magistrate. It was a lovely, laid back life-style, but the very rules and regulations which they'd moved inland to avoid slowly followed them. And by 1835, after dreadful droughts had taken their toll on the land, many of these men were off again. A year before The Great Trek began a Beaufort West farmer reported that there'd been no rain for four years. Another farmer told an English traveller that his boreholes had dried up, the river was so brackish that the water was undrinkable; the alkaline soil had killed his garden, and his third attempt to grown wheat that season had only produced a crop in patches. His cattle were dying, lions had just carried off two of his horses, he had had no bread for several weeks. Also, he had no ammunition, so he was unable to shoot game. "He said all this in such a matter of fact way, taking it all as a day's work," said the English traveller. "So, I assumed that there were scores of others just like him." Further west in the forbidding Roggeveld conditions were far worse. "Hyenas, leopards and wild dogs played havoc with horses and stock. Beside these wild animals, there were also wild men. This was Bushman country," wrote Eric Walker.

Hares - instantly up and off - 1811

William Burchell mentioned the Karoo "plains abounded with hares." This observation was made at Dwaalpoort, near the Sak River, 35km east of Fraserburg on August 30, 1811. Generally, however, few people mention these creatures, states CJ Skead in Historical Mammal Incidence in the Cape Province, yet they must have been plentiful on the dry plains of the central interior. "Early settlers would not have bothered - after all hares were hare - in fact, it's a wonder that they didn't call them rabbits," says Skeads. Lichtenstein mentions killing hares west of Carnarvon on May, 1805, and seeing more at Waaifontein, 24 km northeast of Nelspoort, near Beaufort West. De Grevenbroek, another early visitor interested in nature as well as the customs, habits and taboos of the Hottentot, oddly enough states "a boy may eat the flesh of hares only until provided with a wife." Recently Anita Wheeler of CapeNature explained the difference between rabbits and hares for readers of My Week. "Rabbits are born blind, hairless, immobile and helpless in burrows lined with fur. Even as they develop they are not very fleet on foot," says Anita, who has been involved with rabbit research in the central Karoo for many years. "Hares on the other hand are born with their eyes open and all senses fully developed. At birth these animals are fully furred and within 48 hours they are active. They have sleek limbs and bodies built for speed. This enables them to run very fast."

Best bread in the world - 1890

Bread was not always easy to find in the early hinterland. "However, South Africans soon learnt how to grind corn between stones, make their own yeast from veld plants and bake bread in pots, clay ovens or converted ant-heaps," writes Leslie Faul in Bread. There is no doubt that this bread was good. In 1890 in Home Life on a Ostrich Farm, Anne Martin suggested all settlers should learn how to bake bread "in the Boer way" and not to rely on any old "fly-invested" offerings that came their way. She writes: "if there was a competition for bread-makers of all countries surely the Dutch woman of the Karoo would bear away all the prizes for their delicious whole-meal bread, leavened with sour dough and baked in large earthenware pots. There is nothing quite like it. It is delicious, beautifully sweet and light."

Karoo was his great love - 1864

A young man, born is Neyland, Pembrokeshire, Wales, in 1839, love nothing more than travelling in the Karoo. After learning all the ins and outs of the drapery trade in his home town, William Thorne, 20, (later Sir William), decided to emigrate to South Africa. Shortly after his arrival in Cape Town he joined the firm of Fletchers. Then, in 1864 he went into partnership with SR Stattaford, but continued to operate on his own account because he "loved travelling among the Boers of the Karoo." According to Eric Rosenthal, Thorne, Stuttaford and Company became one of the most important departmental stores in the Colony. In 1893 Thorne was elected to the Cape Town City Counsel and served as mayor from 1901 to 1903. He was a Progressive member of the Cape Parliament from 190 to 1910.

Travelling was never really easy - 1848

In 1848, Robert Grey, the first Bishop of Cape Town almost frightened his wife, Sophy, to death with tales of his travels "through the waterless Karoo." In one of his letters he wrote: "there was in fact no "road", not even a tract through the arid wilderness and, to save the exhausted horses we many times had to walk." More than once, he said he had to put his shoulder to the wheel to get his English wagon out of a sandy drift. Beaufort West's Dutch Reformed minister, Colin Fraser and the local magistrate had sent word to all farmers along the route to supply them with horses, and they had done this. Nevertheless, the rough, rugged, stony, non-existent roads that had taken their toll. His chart had capsized more than once and a wheel had been broken. Under a cloudless sky and in the heat of a Karoo summer day he had had to trudge almost 25 miles to find a farm house. Once there had "fallen on his knees to drink from a filthy pool like a animal." But, on a more cheery note ha added that Beaufort West's charming Scots predikant place his splendid church at my disposal to preached a sermon to the Anglican community." He was immensely proud of having instantly raised 200 pounds towards a church, writes Thelma Gutsche in The Bishops Lady.

A Country 'just come from the hands of the creator' - 1898

Powerful feelings affect the mind of the traveller in the Karoo. He ponders the self-sufficiency of nature, the insignificance of Man, the mystery of the universe as he moves across the brown desert in shimmering waves of heat. But most of all he wonders how much of this high desert-like interior is fit for comfortable habitation, writes James Bryce in Impressions of South Africa, "Yet the Karoo has an awesome, breathtaking beauty. A peculiar characteristic of this great inland plateau is that the scenery possesses a primeval solitude and silence. It has a charm that is differently felt by different minds. The colours in particular enchant. The grey rocks have a deeper tone and are frequently covered by red and yellow lichen, which lend them a wonderful clarity. The sandstone rocks take on a rich tint in the scorching sun and give a magnificent depth to the landscape and, though the flood of midday sunshine is almost overpowering, the lights of morning and evening touching the mountains with every shade of rose and crimson and violet is indescribably beautiful. It is in those morning and evening hours that the charm of the pure dry air is specially felt. Mountains 50 or 60 miles away stand out clearly enough to enable all the wealth of their colour and all the delicacy of their outlines to be perceived and the eye realises by the exquisite tint between the nearer and more distant ranges the immensity and harmony of the landscape. It has the primitive simplicity of a country just come from the hands of the Creator"

Dust to dust - the story of the Karoo - 1900

"The dust bin of creation, " was Author Julian Ralph's opinion of the Karoo. "In Towards Pretoria, his account of the Anglo-Boer War, he describes the intense heat and the air that was "as full of dust as London's is of smoke". He said: "Our throats are dry and caked with dust. The ground is loose dust, the air flying dust. The vegetation and insects are all differing shades of dust." On November 14, 1899, Ralph was on a train travelling from De Aar to Orange River Station. It passed a transport column, five miles long, carrying forage, food and ammunition for the 10 000 men under the command of Lord Methuem. It was hoped that this advance column "would sweep to the relief of Kimberley like a witch's broom." The transport column raised such a dense cloud of dust that troops, wagons and horses merged into one dust-painted portrait. "All our uniforms have become dust-coloured. We are all getting dirtier - inside and out. We breath dust, drink dust and eat dust. Very often we are out of sorts, because our internal arrangements suffer, rebel against this new order of things, but the dust persists, our systems bow to it and we go ahead." Ralph mentions sitting in his dusty tent, his boots buried in dust, writing with a solution of dust and using a dusty brown pen. "Every line was dusted and dried as soon as written - just as our grandfathers dried their manuscripts with sand." Then, to his amusement "a dust-coloured cat strayed out onto the veld. It began watching a hole in the dust in order to catch a dust-coloured mouse."

A prince too saw the beauty 1926

The magnificence and beauty of the Karoo were not lost on those who travelled through the region with the Prince of Whales. Ward Price's account of the journey, published as Through Africa with the Prince of Wales, says the barren interior plateau of the Cape looks harsh and dried up. "Trees are rare. Everywhere grows a little grey green shrub called "Karoo Bush" which strikes its roots many feet into the ground till it reaches moisture. The leaves above ground become shrivelled to the apparent lifelessness of dried seaweed by the sun in summer. Millions of sheep (the Union of South Africa apparently has 34 million) get enough nourishment from grazing on Karoo bushes. These keep them going through the longest summer. Spring rains can transform the Karoo into a gigantic wild flower bed of red and yellow, green and blue flora. In a brief space the desert blooms with colour freshness and delight; then the relentless African sun parches it all bone-dry again for another year. The best thing about the Great Karoo is its sunsets. Directly the sun sinks behind the sharp outline of the naked ironstone kopjes the white, blank wilderness becomes transfigured with rosy light. As the first glow fades strange orange colours spread themselves in sweeping strokes across the sky - all hues of firey orange, green, purple, lavender and bronze. For a few moments the whole horizon is aflame in a weird pageant of rich half tones; then suddenly the life dies out of it and the night drops down to complete the desolation of the desert"

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