Highveld Grassland of the 1870s - George Mossop

George Mossop was born in Greytown in 1861, he was orphaned, and at 14 years of age he set off with Boer biltong and hide traders to hunt the large herds of antelope that still remained on parts of the Highveld. At 17 his adventures continued when he joined the Light Horse Infantry to go and fight in the Zulu War. Much later he published a book called Running the Gauntlet describing what he had seen and experienced.

Below are extracts from his book which describe his experience of the Highveld grasslands in the 1870's. Of how in the Free State herds of game had almost been shot out in the 40 years since the Great Trek. Of what he saw in the Mpumalanga Highveld and then how much that changed in the next 50 years. He details how a land once covered in wildlife and water - dotted with giant vleis and stretches of open water - had been cleared of wildlife and almost totally dried out.

The Massive Herds of Game

His first description is from a camp they set up near the where the town of Ermelo stands today. "The scene which met my eyes the next morning is beyond my power to describe. Game, game every-where, as far as the eye could see - all on the move, grazing. The game did not appear to be moving; the impression I received was that the earth was doing so, carrying the game with it - they were in such vast numbers, moving slowly and steadily, their heads all in one direction against the wind. Only those near at hand could be seen moving forward, their heads down, nibbling the short grass. 

Here came a small herd of about five hundred black wildebeest, their white tails switching; they passed a hundred yards from the wagons at a gallop, only to wheel and halt, their heads towards us, gazing curiously at the strange sight - then up went their tails, and the whole troop wheeled in unison and off they went. With a sound like distant thunder another troop of some thousands approached at a gallop only to do what the others had done. From the opposite direction a troop of about two hundred quagga came straight for us and when about sixty yards distant from the wagons, their front hoofs suddenly ploughed into ground as they brought themselves to a halt."

...

"One day I was out with Ghert Visajie; we were about four miles north of the present town Davel. As usual, many thousands of game were grazing about, when they suddenly began to trot, some to the north, others to the south, leaving an open lane of about two miles wide. This they were doing as far as we could see, east and west. Old Visajie halted, and listened.

"Can you hear anything?" he asked.

Listening, I could hear the low rumbling of distant thunder in the east.

"Yes, is it thundering out towards the sunrise," I replied.

"That is a thunder we must avoid," he said.

"Come, we must canter up to that rise on our left. See, the game has already gone over it."

…

"What is it, Oom Ghert?" I asked.

"You have not yet seen game," he replied.

"To-day you will see it. That cloud is dust from the game moving from the east to the west in search of new grass. The grass on which they have been grazing is finished. They will not halt here, because the game you see are in possession. They will pass through them - see the lane the others have left for them. … When the grass is finished here all the game will collect and move to new quarters. The oncoming herd will then open a path for these to go through, in the same way as they have opened a path for them. In this way they travel in a great circle and when they return the grass will have sprouted for them again, giving them food."

"We halted on the rise, and dismounted. On a front of two miles the great cloud of dust came rushing up. The thunder of hooves was making was the earth tremble under our feet, and I felt inclined to mount and race for safer locality. The oncoming mass was still a considerable distance away, but we had to shout to make each other hear. Presently a long black line of wildebeest emerged from the dust, coming along at a slow canter, their heads held low. The noise was now indescribable. They passed below us in cloud a of dust, one huge mass of game of all kinds belonging to the high veld. We were silent; speech was impossible."

"For an hour and a half this kept up, and after our return to wagons the cloud of dust could still be seen in the west. This description of the migrating herd, which is a very poor one, is no exaggeration. This mass of game was probably collected for some forty miles around their last grazing place, and, judging from the abundance in our own vicinity, the number collected is not to be wondered at. No one who has not witnessed such a scene can form any idea of what it was like."

...

"The old man Visajie told me that he seriously began shooting when he was a lad of ten years of age. He said that in the Orange Free State the game had so diminished that it no longer paid to shoot there; that the game were at their last gasp, and were making their final stand in that section of the eastern Transvaal in which our camp was situated. Here they were in their hundreds of thousands, and if this was their last gasp and last stand, it makes one wonder what the country looked like when they were in full strength."

Disappearing Water and Grass

While working for the Boer hunters Mossop befriended a Bushman called Geswent who was also in their service. Geswent taught the young Mossop much about his surroundings and their history. Geswent told him of the arrival of "monster reptiles" that moved across the land leaving a track with "many buffalo feet and two tails". He was describing the arrival of the ox wagons coming up from the Cape. He said how the wagons "avoided waters and marshy places, crawling slowly along the ant-heap-studded ridges, which was hard land."

Mossop described the countryside further, especially the water, and how it changed in his lifetime. "A traveller would, before deciding upon his course over the veld, look along the ant-heap-strewn ridges, and chose the one suitable for his purpose. On either side the ridges fell away, so gently that they could really be called slopes. This land was marshy, and overgrown with tall reeds and rushes, ending at the flat land below in an open sheet of water."

"In the marshes and on the waters were tens of thousands of water fowl - duck, teal, spurwing geese, muscovers, coots and cranes of many kinds: long lines of flamingos looked like sentinels, some in the shallow water near the edge, other on the shore. I have seen great herds of blesbok splashing over the flats, with the water up to their ribs. On these flats today stand many substantially built farmhouses. And on the marshy slopes herds of sheep and cattle graze in the short grass."

Mossop also records the changes at the KZN towns of Wakkerstroom, Volksrust and Greytown, and how parts of the towns were located on what were once massive vleis with tall reeds, but how overgrazing and burning had turned that all into short grass. "Looking at these hollows today … a stranger would not imagine that only a few years ago they were sheets of water." The giant vlei of his youth at Greytown eventually got so dry that "fire burnt the roots below the ground". One line of his could almost have come from today; "I have often spoke of the drying of the waters, but it did not appear to interest anyone."

We are privileged to have this incredible, first hand account of the abundant grassland ecosystem of the Highveld. An amazing insight into what was there and the destruction and desertification that unfolded. George Mossop was obviously someone who drank in his surroundings and challenged the thinking of the day. Stories like his are important to give us an insight into what was. They also give us a goal of where we can take our veld back to. We will never have the massive herds of migrating animals again but there is no reason why we can't bring back the healthy grasslands of the Highveld. No reason why we can't rehydrate the soil.  In fact it's happening on scattered farms across the very landscape that Mossop once roamed in awe.