The moon is full over the farmlands that lie at the base of the mountains. The landscape is lit with blue light and one can see for miles. The farmers will sleep fitfully tonight. But full moon bodes well for all marauders. And the rustler’s routes, known only to the mountain dwellers, will be run with the farmers’ stock.

Cattle, worth hundreds of thousands will be over the border or deep in the rural location by morning. But worth more than money, horses will have been driven, under the cruellest of circumstances, over the harshest terrains to the mountain country, often beyond our ­borders.

Often these horses are not tough mountain ponies, but pampered pets. Fed, stabled and trusting – used to the kinder ways of life. Overnight they will be herded, wire tied in their mouths, forced to keep moving over mountainous terrain at a pace that must see them over the mountains and back in Lesotho before daylight. They will be stabbed in the rump to keep them moving.

Those that falter will be left behind – pushed over a cliff or stoned to death – so that the others will not try and return to them.

Many a night I have sat in the pub or around a roaring fire, listening to the tales of these border farmers. Stories of ambushes, of bandits caught and dealt with, of trails into the mountains, tracking for days and nights. Rewards offered. Palms crossed with silver. Getting lost in the mist. Seeing friends shot. Recovering the lost and, sometimes, nursing them back to health.

These are some of their stories.

Garden Castle

The first person I spoke to was Phillip Majosi, stable manager at Garden Castle, KwaZulu-Natal Wildlife. They live and stable their horses right at the base of the Lesotho mountains. Majosi’s English was broken, but his feelings were clear.

“They come at night,” he said. “They take like the marauding baboons. They should be shot like the baboon that learns to steal. I will kill them myself, if I catch them!”

The horses at Garden Castle are particularly well cared for, stabled every night and well-fed. The stable block is surrounded by a high electric fence.

Majosi told how the thieves came on the night of the full moon. They chipped away the concrete blocks to open the stable from the back and took the horses out. They were never seen again. His face told of sadness; his words told of revenge and retribution if the “basuts” were found in those unforgiving hills.

Callaway Farm

Callaway Farm has an imposing entrance and a ranch-style homestead, with glossy, well-groomed horses grazing in lush pastures. It is home to Kevin Lang’s magnificent American Quarter Horse stud.

Kevin was up from his home farm in Mooi River that night, checking on his prize horses and beef cattle. On Thursday morning, 15 November 2007, he went to check on his mares and foals. The herd was gone!

Gates had been opened onto the neighbouring farm, which bordered onto the rural location of Kilmun. The majority of the herd was found on the hill, but one of his prize mares and two yearling colts by an imported sire, were gone.

Kevin’s manager, Ian Madison, reported the three horses as stolen, to the South African Police’s stock-theft unit. The inspector only arrived the following afternoon to take a statement. Asked what he was going to do, he said “nothing” – he was too busy with Lesotho border crimes. When asked why they should bother reporting the crime, they were told that if they didn’t, they would be accused of theft if they did find their horses and tried to take them back.

Kevin rounded up a veritable posse – herdsmen on horseback, friends, manager and family on motorbikes. They searched, asked questions, bribed, dropped labourers into the location each day, for five consecutive days. Karen Madison, stable manager, circulated posters offering rewards of R5 000 for any information leading to the recovery of the horses. They were starting to lose hope.

On Monday, 19 November, with wilting spirits, Kevin rode his motorbike with his nephew, stopping and scanning the many small herds of horses in the Kilmun district. A small herd stood grazing. They thought they recognised the muscular hindquarter of a chestnut mare, but couldn’t see the young colts. As they neared they saw one of the colts nearby and the other lying down next to his mother.

The three horses had had their manes cut and had ulcers in their mouths, but five hours later they were being fed and pampered by a very relieved Karen. The next day the inspector from the stock theft unit returned to take another statement and close the case.

Islay Farm

On the morning of 5 December 2007, Vanessa and Eric Viljoen drove into Underberg from their farm on the Loteni road. Islay Farm is nestled at the base of a mountain known as No Man’s Land, leading directly into Lesotho.

While working in their stationery shop, they got a phone call from the herdsman telling them that four of their horses were gone – a young Shire stallion, a retired thoroughbred mare in foal and a mare with a foal at foot.

They raced home and started the search. With hiking gear they scoured the mountain as the mist came in. They found the mare and foal, which had been abandoned on the mountain slopes of No Man’s Land. At ten that night they called it a day and went home, exhausted.

The next day they reported the theft to Bushmansnek stocktheft unit and borrowed a four-wheel drive vehicle to take them into Lesotho. The tracks were lost and they drove blind, past Dumas Hut and on.

For four days they hiked the mountains. Rewards were offered and posters with pictures of the distinctive Shire were circulated. They were drawing to a dead end. Then someone mentioned that they should contact Steve and Shannon Gilson, farmers in the Swartberg area, who were members of the Swartberg Stocktheft Prevention Association or SSPA.

Vanessa phoned Shannon who had heard about the stolen horses and taken photos of them to the meeting. The Lesotho farmers at the meeting had had positive sightings of the horses. Vanessa and Eric dropped everything and headed for the hills. At the meeting they were told where the horses had been sighted.

They spent the night in a hut and were given trackers the next morning. The trackers went ahead of the vehicle and eventually led the trail-weary Viljoens to their horses. A sorry sight met them.

The Shire was still in a reasonable condition, but the Thoroughbred mare was on her last legs. Having been pampered her whole life from the yearling sales to top polo and A-division polocrosse, this gruelling episode was beyond her endurance.

A stream ran less than 500 metres from where she stood, but her inflamed hooves would not take her there. She had severe laminitis and was badly dehydrated. Both horses had fresh lesions in and around their mouths from having wire tied to their lower jaw.

The Viljoens left to return with a 4x4 trailer. Money-Time, the Thoroughbred mare, couldn’t make it to the trailer. The Viljoens had made up their minds to put her out of her misery, but when she saw her companion about to leave her, she made a gigantic effort and got onto the trailer with him.

Back at Islay Farm Money-Time stood where she was off-loaded. She was given antibiotics and anti-inflammatories, fed in small amounts and her hooves bathed and treated, as the infection caused her hooves to suppurate and separate on the coronet band.

On Christmas Eve of 2007, Money-Time lay down and never got back up.

The SSPA

Next I contacted Steve and Shannon Gilson. I asked Shannon to tell me of the horse theft off their own farm. They live in the Swartberg area, bordering the Lesotho range of mountains.

Shannon told of horses being taken on moonlit nights. Of recovering them and finding stab wounds in their hindquarters, inflicted to force them ever upward and forward. She told us of horses found on the trail – dead – with their heads smashed with rocks to prevent the others returning.

She told of a particularly well-loved horse that had been recovered, pushed off a krans where it got wedged on a ledge and had to be hauled to safety. She died one year later from the trauma. She told of infected laminitis, of open wounds in their mouths caused by wire.

Steve and Shannon represent the Swartberg Stocktheft Prevention Association. The SSPA comprises the farmers of the Swartberg area that are making a proactive effort to prevent and retrieve all stolen stock on their borders.

They originally employed the former Executive Outcomes to patrol their borders, check their fences and deal with illegal immigrants coming over the border with no valid reason. They made a huge difference and the rate of stocktheft diminished considerably, but continued. With the disbanding of Executive Outcomes, they made a new plan – to include the Lesotho people.

They set up meetings in various settlements and villages. The Lesotho people were delighted. They too had suffered from the theft of bandits and thieves in their country.

The SSPA started installing radio base stations in Lesotho. They called meetings and gave the people something they had never had – communication. The radios cost a whopping R10 000 each to set up and maintain. The SSPA have already erected eight units in Lesotho, all at their own expense.

In return they wanted info, eyes and ears in the mountains. The proactive inclusion of the Lesotho people has delivered results.

The SSPA has regular meetings in Lesotho. People come in their droves, on horseback, on donkeys and by foot, to attend these meetings, sending their chiefs and well-respected council members.

I was privileged enough to be invited by the SSPA to join them on a two-day trip into Lesotho to attend some of their meetings and meet the Lesotho people.

Armed with my camera, I joined Ken and Joy Dorning (chairman of the SSPA) and Steve and Shannon Gilson on their trip. Living on a farm in the Underberg district for the past 18 years, I had a preconceived idea that all the Basotho people were stock thieves. But I was to learn otherwise.

The rustlers route

We drove up the Thuli rustlers route in low range 4x4. It took us a full hour to reach the top. We were in a country in the clouds, looking down onto the tops of mountains. This is breathtaking, harsh country. No electricity or telephones, few tarred roads, even fewer vehicles. Life slows and there is no urgency. Survival is the criteria.

The first man I was introduced to was a wealthy farmer who owns 1 700 sheep, 400 head of cattle and some 150 horses. He has great tracts of hand-planted wheat. He and three other equally respected farmers are the core of the Lesotho contingent of the SSPA. They had suffered under the free run of the stock thieves.

The chief of the village opened the meeting with prayer. Then pipes were filled and the meeting began with an introduction of us and reasons for our presence. Animated stories were told of bandits sighted and caught. I was told how the farmers had found out that the police were involved in the thefts and of how they were beheaded in the night, as an example to others of their treachery.

Three hours later the meeting ended and we were invited to join the people for a meal. Then I was taken to the police pound. Once recovered, animals are taken to the pound where they can be identified and claimed by their rightful owners. If unclaimed after three months, they are put up for public auction.

What a sad sight. All the stories I had been told came to life. Stone walls, stone floor. Minimal grazing. Horses with heads hanging. Former brands burnt into unrecognisable smears. Broken knees, scarred mouths, open saddle sores, Stab scars in their rumps, ears sometimes cut right off instead of notched. Emaciated and broken.

Many were Basotho ponies, but a few, I could see, had breeding and class and had obviously known a softer life. When I explained that I was trying to get funds for these horses, the policeman in charge requested food for his charges, as the winter is already felt in the icy wind. My promise was to tell their stories …

The SSPA urgently needs funds for the retrieval of stolen stock and prevention of all stocktheft into Lesotho and surrounding rural settlements. They also need funds to feed the impounded horses once they are recovered.

You can help stop this needless movement of horses into the cruellest of conditions, by contributing into the following account:
SSTPA
Standard Bank account
Kokstad branch nr 050122
Account number 060393505