The beating heart of Bushmanland
Time to load the Ark
Every winter, we move all our sheep from Bushmanland to our other farms in the winter-rainfall region of Loeriesfontein. It is quite a procession. Some years, when we’ve had good rain, the sheep are herded. It’s just more than 100km and we simply overnight along the way. The past few years, however, have been very dry and all the sheep are then transported in trucks. Last but not least, we move… plus our cat and dogs. And pigeons, rabbits, horse and cow. Once we’ve exhausted ourselves running after the geese and the very last one is caged, someone will discover another bantam scratching in the dust. My dad once said Noah had nothing on us, because he has seen no mention of fish on the Ark.
The old-timers say to survive life in Bushmanland you need to have drunk Bushmanland bies, or colostrum–the nutritious first milk secreted by mammals after giving birth. This is their way of saying that if you weren’t born and bred in the region, it’s unlikely you’ll adapt to life here.
Like most of my forebears, I
