We are fortunate enough to have an abundant and endless supply of spring water from natural caverns beneath the town. The water is pumped into the town’s domestic system after trickling through natural rock and underground filters, availing the very freshest and purest source of water anywhere. Imagine quaffing a sip of mother nature’s ultimate elixir.

The Sabie River, originating from its sources off the slopes of the majestic Mauchsberg, Mount Anderson, Formosa Mountain, and the Delagoos Berg, behind Sabie itself, and being oxygenated after tumbling over the myriads of cascading falls on its way down, is declared to be the cleanest water source in RSA flowing eastwards to the Indian Ocean.

The Sabie River water-course is perpetually flushed clean by the combined fresh streams flowing out of the mountains. We have just experienced a marvellous rain bonanza that has boosted the waterfalls to their majestic best, with accompanying drenching rain forests nearby. Of course the River is just waiting for a few enthusiastic extreme adventure adrenalin junkies to do a bit of surfing with crocs and hippos !

Everywhere is so luscious green; the birds are singing, and shrubs and flowers are blooming !

We can host you on a full bouquet of adventure activities. Check the websites:

www.sabie.co.za
www.graskop.co.za
www.pilgrims-rest.co.za

That history must be linked more closely to obvious evidence.

Dr. Hromnik studied, and specialized in Dravidian Culture, having spent many years in the Indian sub-continent. He came to Africa and discovered the signs of this same Dravidian culture which permeate the Island of Madagascar, as well as the East- African seaboard, and further inland, all the way from the Cape to Kenya and beyond. He also traces sources through language similarities.

Following the historical, onomastic and linguistic evidence collected and studied for many years, historian Cyril A. Hromník with a PhD. from Syracuse University, Syracuse, NY. focused his attention on the stone structures in the veld of MaShonaland, today’s Zimbabwe for many years. These ruins clearly show characteristics and features of extra-African origin. This lead him to write a book called Indo-Africa (Hromník, Cyril.Andrew. 1981. Indo-Africa: Towards a New Understanding of the History of Sub-Saharan Africa. Cape Town: Juta.), in which he shows, among other evidence, that Shona in the name MaShonaland is of Indian origin, where it means GOLD. All stone structures in MaShonaland are connected with the gold-prospecting by ancient Indians.

This discovery induced Dr. Hromník — upon his arrival in South Africa in 1979 – to pay attention to the thousands of stone ruins that litter the veld of this country.

Examination of the ruins and of the connected toponymy led him to the conclusion, that they are the product of the Dravidian prospectors and traders, whose priests conceived the idea of building stone shrines and temples at first only in the vicinity of the gold mines and later throughout the country, wherever their network of trade had taken them to.

Someone who realized that ruins he stumbled upon some time back, at Uitsoek, were more than just a coincidence, was sensible enough to let Dr. Hromnik know that he had found a circular ruin, which could perhaps interest him. Dr. Hromnik endorsed the find, as Dravidian Temple ruins, and actually discovered a host of other temples ruins nearby.

Dr. Hromnik maintains that before the time of Christ, Indian traders named Komates, crossed the Indian Ocean in sailing boats with their Indonesian slaves, and were driven along on the high seas by Monsoon trade winds blowing towards Africa. Their mission was to seek for gold, and return on reverse trade winds to India with their bounty. From the Bible record, one reads that there was gold in Africa, which was being exploited and traded, from ancient times. From his knowledge of Dravidian history, Dr. Hromnik certainly knew that the Komates sailed to Africa.

The Komates settled with their Indonesian slaves in these regions, and then gradually moved further inland from the river mouths, seeking gold, and building their temples which were called litaku. They mixed with the local Kung, spawning the Ottentotu.

One of the interesting features of the region between Natal, South Africa, and Mpumalanga, South Africa, near the Swaziland border with South Africa, is the name Komati. One finds Komati Gorge, Komati River, Lomati River, Komatipoort, Komatiland etc. Where did the name Komati originate? It seems pretty obvious that it comes from the word Komates.

Incidently an American doctor from the Malagasy Republic came into my office some time back and told me that the Malagasy people are of Asian origins, and not Black. I wonder why that is ?

Apart from the fact that Dr. Hromnik is exceptionally well qualified in a number of  disciplines, he actually needs no further introduction, as he is looked upon as an outsider crackpot pseudo researcher, by the South African Academic Archaeological Fraternity, and others, because his findings do not suit current South African political views. This is such a pity, and it is most surprising, that these negative views emanate from amongst supposedly acclaimed, educated, academic leaders in their field, who should respect a fellow member of the academic community, even though they may be obliged to have differing opinions. The academics say that these ruins are nothing more than “beeskrale”. I suppose poor publicity is better than no publicity.

I attended a lecture on this culture given by Dr. Hromnik some time before I actually took the tour with him. This lecture included photographs of some of the sites we were to tour. One of the photographs on display showed a Hindu man kneeling with clasped hands, in prayerful reverence for his god, at one of the temple sites, which was a rather moving sight. In other words, this Hindu man was endorsing the fact that he was in fact at a sacred Hindu site. I should think that practicing Hindus would know what constituted one of their own sacred sites.

On the tour the first thing we were introduced to was a meandering low heaped pathway of small half hand sized stones, that stretched about 75 meters into the bush. We were informed that these stones were prayer stones that had been wrapped in leaves, containing the prayer, and then placed on the pathway. Eventually the leaves dried, or rotted away leaving the stone on the pile. The pathway was the first step that people took on the road of life. It led through the bush to the first temple. All in all we toured six temples that day. One of the temples had a perfect Swastika at its center. This is an ancient Zoroastrian symbol. I wonder how it was that these “pastoral people” who built “beeskrale” knew about ancient Zoroastrian Swastikas? Maybe some “alien ancestral spirit” taught them.

Dr. Hromnik says that specifically the Zimbabwe Ruins, as well as Mapungubwe are all part of Indo-African culture, and that the local “pastoral folk” certainly didn’t go in for building structures like Zimbabwe Ruins, and were certainly not into the smelting of iron etc. He wants to know why the gold leaf covered rhino statue found at Mapungubwe had only one horn. African rhinos have two horns. Asian rhinos incidentally, have only one horn.

I attended a meeting of academics, including Dr. Hromnik, at Witbank about three years back. The debate was on these temples, and Indo-African culture.

One of the academics, a celebrated archaeologist, gave his input on “beeskrale”. It was the most elementary lecture I have ever heard, and no more than an insult to the intelligence of the slowest learner in grade 3. Furthermore, the meeting’s chairman didn’t even bother to give Dr. Hromnik an adequate opportunity to answer their views on this culture. Instead, when his “time” was up they systematically lambasted and vilified him in the cruelest fashion. They then threatened him with dire consequences if he persisted with his “nonsense”.

In the meantime, a “Complete History”of  Mpumalanga has been published and launched with all the fanfare and pomp of a celebrated occasion. Indo-African culture is not even mentioned. Some of the other celebrated historians of the region say this work is a gross distortion of the truth.

1. No matter how much you enjoy doing the research, what you can learn on the internet pales in comparison to the knowledge that a travel agent already possesses.  Learning about the ins and outs of different destinations is your travel agent’s job, and the more they know, the happier their clients are and the more they come back to them. Travel agents spend all their working time learning about the best times to go, the best deals available and the best places to stay at all of the top destinations. Their expertise is as wide-ranging as their client base, so they have something to offer everybody, no matter the type of trip or budget.
2. Travel agents have access to special pricing and perks that are not available to individual travelers.  Because tour operators and cruise lines want travel agents to direct their clients to their venues, they offer them special discounts, shipboard credits and other perks like bottles of champagne. These deals aren’t available through websites or direct bookings.
3. Using a travel agent is the easiest way to book a trip; you still have the fun of choosing between different venues that the agent may recommend, but leaving the nitty-gritty details to an expert leaves you free to pursue other interests, and assures that everything will be taken care of professionally. Your travel agent has complete knowledge regarding paperwork, immunizations and other documentation that may be required, and will put everything together for you in a simple package with step-by-step instructions. Plus, working with a travel agent means you only have one bill to pay.
4. In addition to being aware of the different deals and destinations, most travel agents have first-hand knowledge and experience of more places than even the most seasoned traveler. Travel agents have been guests of many places around the world, and there is no replacement for that kind of first-hand knowledge of the best tours and tour operators, the best restaurants, and the places to stay away from.
5. Finally, many people say that you don’t know the true value of your travel agent until something goes wrong. Get sick right before the trip? Your travel agent knows what to do. Arrive at the hotel and find that it’s under construction? Your travel agent can arrange for you to transfer to a different venue. Lose your paperwork? All you need is your travel agent’s phone number and you don’t have to worry about a thing.

Travel is one of life’s great joys, but it’s also an investment, and you want to be certain that when you’re planning a special trip, you are getting the most out of it.  Using a travel agent takes all the guesswork and worry out of the process. So give them a call, give them the basic outline of what you have in mind, and sit back and let them plan a fabulous trip for you!

Call Trips ZA in association with Travel Counsellors at 013 764 1177  for all your requirements!

In the Jan.2011 issue of South African Country Life there is an interesting “crit” on the new “Landy” Defender 110.

The article states: there is no cruising about in the latest Defender – it demands that you’re fully and dramatically engaged in the driving experience at all times. Everything about this vehicle feels designed to make you suffer for the privilege of being at the driving helm of such an automotive giant, but that in defence of the Defender (I’m not trying to be punny), the vehicle must be loved because it has changed so little in the past 60 years. It sounded like the best of “British” to me. I suppose some folk just dig tradition – or antiques. However we all just love to indulge our passions, if we can afford to – don’t we?

As the facts were spun out in this article, simply imploring the reader to accept the idiosyncrasies or quirks of this quaint icon, which is actually rather unfashionable, or just plain eccentric, I could only but be reminded of one of my own Landy experiences, which incidentally vindicates the “crit”.

Some years ago I was involved in a regular weekend drink, eat, and laugh syndicate. What we really had in common with one another was not only a particular brand of humour, but also food, smooth dry red wine, Klippies and Coke, cheap sweet white plonk, and of course – beer. A “potjie” of delicious curry, stew or oxtail usually simmered close by during the winter months, as we determinedly mellowed to the occasion. We did actually enjoy one another too.

One of the gang owned an ancient 6 cylinder petrol fuelled long wheel base “Landy” station wagon, with Impala horns rakishly mounted at the front end of the bonnet above the radiator. This must have been the most decrepit worn out semblance of a rattle-trap wreck, and the most uncomfortable journey spoiler on wheels.

The owner was a fanatical “ Landy” freak. He was also a genuine British Colonial Kenyan – typically “Out of Africa”, and belonged to the Kenya African Rifles Regiment, and eventually a SAS member of the Commonwealth Anti-Terrorist Forces seconded to Malaysia.

He was selected to escort Princess Margaret of Great Britain during a visit with her sister Princess Elizabeth to the famous Treetops Hotel in Kenya during the early 50’s, and was sent with his company to attend the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth in England, as a representative of the Kenya African Rifles.

He was also the chief (I hung them six at a time) hangman in Kenya during the Mau-Mau rebellion, and reputedly hunted terrorists in the jungles on the slopes of Mount Kenya. He actually shot to death Komathe, the notorious Mau-Mau warlord, (or so the legend went.) He was of course a most entertaining raconteur, dressed in a sarong (and nothing else) around his middle, with a floppy hat on his head. Tourists loved to party with him.

One weekend on a sweltering Sunday, it was suddenly mooted that we load the usual picnic trappings into the “old lady”, and head into the forest behind Sabie, to a breezy mountain spot to picnic, with a good view of the beautiful Sabie Valley below us.

After bouncing around, in 3^rd gear low ratio, suddenly the engine died. At that stage, and already well oiled, none of us was in any state to be able to diagnose what had convinced the “old cow” to become temperamental. We decided to carry on without a care in the world. The owner proclaimed that his “faithful old lady” would just never let him down. After all with a “Landy”, things couldn’t be that serious.

At this stage the battery had become too tired to swing the engine, and so we decided to assist the “old lady” to roll along and get the engine to turn. It was of course to no avail, as “old ladies” just don’t roll. Eventually however, we did manage to land her in a ditch – backwards. By this time the ice, the beers, and the Coke were all consumed, and we were wondering what to do next.

Eventually one of the brighter sparks decided to have a tinker, to try and find out what was actually wrong, only to discover that the distributor had disintegrated from the inside, which of course meant that we were facing a different kind of challenge. Here we were, illegally on a remote forest mountain track, on a Sunday afternoon, where nobody knew about us, with not even a remote chance of a helping hand. In the meantime, the afternoon shadows were growing longer and longer as the day began to fade. It then dawned on us that we were actually in a bit of a pickle.

I had luckily brought my cell phone with me on the trip, and after racking my brains managed to remember a friend’s number. I called him – he answered! He responded to our call for help.

As passionate as the “Landy” owner’s love of “old ladies” was, just so passionate was our saviour’s love of Unimogs, and German culture. Well, of course the inevitable teasing and sledging soon got under way.

Eventually we managed to hitch the “old lady” to the Unimog and started towing. What amused me was that the  “Landy” could not even free-wheel down the steepest incline, and had to be towed the whole way.

The owner and his wife lived in a forest company village with a number of other families nearby, and all the neighbours who had heard about the demise of the “old lady”, had come out to jeer/cheer the rescue attempt. Everyone knew of the eternal and interminable but passionate affair between the owner and his dearly beloved.

The owner’s acute embarrassment at having to be rescued and unceremoniously dragged home by a Unimog was most obvious, and he displayed the brightest, pinkest hue around his ears, in startling contrast to his ash grey mop of hair. He was of course the perfect study of the stiff upper lip Colonial Duke who could never be seen to flinch even in the face of the greatest adversity, as he studiously guided the “old lady” home.

On reflection I do believe it was the “Landy” that brought the best of British out of him. It must have been eternally stalking his psyche, and needed air by demanding attention through the association of something familiarly and superiorly British. Unfortunately he was of a dying breed, and there are fewer and fewer original Colonials left.

With all the excitement, the safe arrival was of course an excuse for another celebration. More booze was procured forthwith; a fire was lit in the boma; another one in the griddle; and it wasn’t long before the tantalizing aroma of sizzling flesh lured even the most reticent of neighbours out for the evening, and even though some of us had to work on the morrow, the party extended into the early hours. A group of revelers was sitting on a bench near the boma fire, when the legs suddenly collapsed, and the whole gang landed on their backs in the grass with drinks all over them!

I guess the best of British will always bounce awkwardly and traditionally along with a stiff upper lip in a “Landy”.

An edited action version of the the book “Jock of the Bushveld” can be purchased from us at R125.00 plus postage R41.00 within Southern Africa, = R166.00 (US$24.00).

One of the passes that had to be negotiated between the Lowveld and Sabie, was the pass between the present Witklip Dam, and Spitzkop. Fitzpatrick describes it in the Jock book chapter on the Berg.

He says that the Drakensberg stood before them like an impassable barrier, and that the last day of each trip back from the Bushveld was always a day of trial and hardwork for both man and beast. He says further that it was on the Drakensberg that he  saw what a really first class man could do.

If one stands on the edge of the Berg at more or less the point directly above the Witklip Dam and beholds the unfolding beauty and the magnificent view of the valley below, one can see the contour lines which the wagon trails followed from the vicinity of Klipkopje Dam to the bottom of the Berg. It is quite obvious that any attempt at crossing the Berg at that spot, would have been a rather difficult task.

The book says that below the Berg was the last Outspan where the animals were rested, fed and watered, and where the loads were halved, the teams double spanned, and where they pulled themselves together for the final climb.

To those that did not know, there wasn’t much difference between spans of oxen; the driving of them seemed a matter of brute strength and lung. One span looked very much like another. The wierd unearthly calls of the drivers, the cracks  – like rifle shots – of the long lashes, and the hum and thud of the more cruel doubled whip, seem to be all that was needed; but that is not so. Heart, and training in the cattle, as well as skill and judgement in the driver are also needed, for the Berg is a searching test of both man and beast.

Some days were even more of a trial than others, in that portions of loads that were dumped off to ease the pull, dotted the roadside; tangles of disordered maddened spans blocked the way; and fragments of skeys, yokes, “riems” (leather thongs), and broken “disselbooms” (the shaft connected to the wagon next to which the draught oxen were inspanned), told a tale of desperation, frustration, and trouble.

Fitzpatrick commented further on one specific occasion; “Next came “old” Charlie Roberts with his two wagons. He was old to us as he was nearly fifty. He was also stout and in poor health. We buried him in Pilgrim’s Rest a week later”.

Charlie walked slowly up and down the pass to see if he could perhaps get through past the stuck wagons. He got started a little later, making three loads of his two, and went on with single spans of eighteen oxen each, because the other wagons stuck in various places along the climb did not allow him space to work double spans.

To Fitzpatrick’s team it would have been madness to try to attempt the climb with only eighteen oxen inspanned, but when they were already half way up the pass they saw Charlie coming along steadily without any fuss at all.

He had no second driver to help him, and he did no shouting at all. He walked along beside the span, playing the long whip lightly about as he gave the word to go, or called quietly to each individual ox by name, but he did not touch them.

Fitzpatrick’s team was held up with a break in the gear, and were blocking the road way almost completely by the time Charlie reached them. Any one else would have waited, but Charlie pulled out into the side track on the slope below, to pass them. Even the best could have come to grief trying to pass a stuck wagon, but Charlie didn’t turn a hair. He went steadily on, while giving a brisker call, and touching up his oxen here and there with light flicks. The tracks he took were merely scorings made by wagons coming down the mountain. It was so steep and rough there that a pull of more than ten meters between the spells for breaths was all one could hope for; and many were thankfull to have done much less.

Sabie Pass

There was a hotel at the top of the pass named Nolan’s Hotel. The transporters called it Nolan’s Lekkerlag Hotel. Apparently the wagons were outspanned again, to allow the trek oxen to rest once more before the comparatively easy trek down to Sabie.

Another version of the word “Lekkerlag”, is that the farm on which Nolan’s stood was called “Lekkerlag”.

Fitzpatrick comments on the fact that there were usually many wagons waiting to go up the pass most days which points to the fact that travelers must have stayed over when they reached the top of the pass. There must have been plenty of music, booze, laughter, partying, card playing, and carousing. What a party !

We have rcently learned that there was also a race course in the vicinity of Nolan’s Hotel. Some enthusiasts are fossickong about to find whatever can be unearthed nearby.

We have never been able to locate the ruins of Nolan’s hotel.

An interesting part of “trekking”, is the routine followed by the transporters on a daily basis. The following is a short account from a wagoneer’s diary.

21/11/1885 Stopped all day, (let cattle graze, rest, and get water.)

22/11 /1885 Inspan. 03.00hrs Trek. Dark, heavy clouds, little light.(Traveling at night is easier on the oxen. Not good to trek in rain, as the harness chafes and hurts oxen. Work in heat exhausts the animals. Depending on circumstances, the trek time lasts anything from only 2 hours to no more than 6 hours on average, and sometimes covers only a few kms.) Outspan 08.30hrs. Went fishing, caught 3 small ones. Helped another wagoneer stuck in stream. Big rocks. Bent axle. Inspan 16.00hrs Trek Outspan 18.00hrs. In fog. Saw a few antelope.

23/11/1885 Inspan 03.00hrs. Trek. Stuck in another spruit. Two spans to pull out. Breakfast. More rain. Stopped. Bought bread, black and sour. Rain cleared again 14.00hrs. Inspan 15.00hrs. Trek. Shot buck for the pot. Outspan18.00hrs. Tea time. Facing hills. All quartz and rocks. Wild flowers.

24/11/1885 Inspan 03.00hrs. Trek. Roads rough, stony, hard trek. Outspan 06.00hrs. Inspan 09.00hrs. Road all quartz. Outspan12.00hrs. Dinner. Thunder showers. Doe for the pot. Stayed over.

25/11/1885 Inspan15.00hrs. Trek. Roads a little better. Outspan 01.00hrs. At daylight scouted for mushrooms. I have a touch of dysentery. Sheep farmer passed with a lot of Sheep. Inspan11.00hrs. Cool day. Trek. Came to a river, crossed with 2 spans. Rapid current. 5 feet (1.50m.) deep. Had a swim. Many wagons crossed the river today. Outspan 15.00hrs.

26/11/1885 Inspan 03.00hrs. Trek. Outspan 07.00hrs. in Barberton. Breakfast. Walked down town. Quite busy. Many fine stores. We bought the following:

Refreshments.               2 shillings (0.20 cents.)

Bread                               sixpence (0.05 cents.)

Native                            1 shilling  (0.10 cents.)

Buns                               sixpence  (0.05 cents.)

Lobster      1 shilling and 9 pence  (0.19 cents.)

Unfortunately, one cannot actually reach the exact spot where the wagons crossed the berg before trekking into Sabie. The actual route followed by wagons from Sabie to Pilgrims Rest and Macmac is however fully documented.

The original path used by wagons has been more or less located by previous dedicated adventurers, who made work of having waymarks placed wherever the original “Jock of the Bushveld” routes crossed the existing main roads covering the region.

Self Drive and guided tours can be embarked on which enable independant and group tourists to experience some of the adventure that the wagoneers of the earlier days must have had.

More information can be obtained on various facits of this history by leaving comments and requests on the Sabie Blog, or emailing us at johnt@tripsza.com

Memorial Site of Wagon Rescue

The Macmac Memorial was constructed to remind future generations of the inhabitants of the Panorama Region as well as discerning tourists exploring the beautiful Panorama Route from Sabie through Pilgrims Rest and Graskop, that they would likely be making acquaintance with a fascinating location where a few important historical pioneering events took place. It is located approx. 18kms from Sabie on the R532 towards Graskop.

Percy Fitzpatrick, who later became a knighted legend in his own lifetime, as an author, politician, farmer and company director, came to seek his fortune on the goldfields of Pilgrims Rest and Macmac as a young buck. He discovered, as so many others did, that most of the available shallow lying gold had already been mined out, and that the vicinity was no longer a shallow Eldorado.

A turning point in his period of extreme hardship occurred at the site of the present Macmac Memorial, which was erected 103 years later by the Lowveld Diggers and Transport Riders Society.

A depressed and penniless Fitzpatrick had left the cabin of an Australian benefactor Teddy Blacklow, halfway down Pilgrims Creek, on a Sunday morning in September of 1884, expecting to reach the Macmac South diggings by sundown.

After surviving a devastating and violent hailstorm, by sheltering under an overhanging  rock on the intervening ridge separating the two valleys, he reached the crest of the Burgher’s Pass, from where he began his long descent to Macmac. When he reached the last rise overlooking the Macmac drift, he was confronted by a frightening spectacle.

A transport wagon was trapped in a raging torrent, which had resulted from the heavy rain caused by the same storm that had caught Fitzpatrick in the hills. The bewildered oxen had been abandoned by the “voorloper”, and the whole rig was already heading aimlessly downstream towards the Macmac Falls.

Without hesitation the sturdy young Fitzpatrick hastened down the wagon track towards the drift, doubtless shedding his few possessions as he ran, before dashing headlong into the turbulent and angry floodwaters, in an effort to reach the “voorloper riem”, which he managed to grasp, and through great exertion was able to direct the team to the river bank, and eventually lead the oxen out thereby saving the whole rig from certain disaster.

The grateful owner and transport rider outspanned at the first level spot, which was where the Memorial is now located. Both men dried themselves off, and settled down to an informal meal. Fitzpatrick felt for the first time on the goldfields, that he had truly earned his keep.

According to Fitzpatrick’s Diary, the transport rider must have introduced him to R. T. M. James who gave him his first job as a counter hand at the “Matit Store”, just behind the ex-McLachlan stone house. J. B. Taylor mentions meeting him there, so raw to his job that he did not even know the price of a bucket of mealie meal. However his natural charm and gift of the gab soon enabled him to strike up friendships with the local diggers and transport riders who frequently visited the store.

One of these was Hugh Lanion Hall of Mataffin fame, whom he met for the first time at the original digger’s camp, which by then had taken on the name of Graskop, after the farm on which it stood.

The name Macmac had been transferred to a new southerly camp, which provided living quarters for the diggers employed by the company which was then carrying out organised alluvial digging at the big hole approximately 2km. south of the Memorial.

FEATURES OF THE MACMAC MEMORIAL

1. A Three Coloured Paved, circular Floor Map 6.6m in diameter, showing the locality within a radius of 1km of the centrally placed wagon wheel, and inlaid with appropriate ceramic name-tiles. The map illustrates the route of the old roads of 1885 in relation to te Macmac River and those of its tributaries closest to the Memorial.

2.  A Toposcope consisting of dark-green place-names inlaid into the brown border of the circular floor, which when sighted over the boss of centrally-placed wagon-wheel indicates the precise direction of the particular place or  topograghical feature.

3.  Seating with backrest constructed with local shale, made around the semicircle to enable visitors to relax while viewing the Memorial and local Macmac scene.

4. A ¾ Size Replica of Australian Edwin Blacklow’s tomb stone with its heart-warming tribute from his fellow diggers has been incorporated into the center of the seating’s back-rest. The original is to be found in the Pilgrim’s Rest’s old cemetery.

5.  A Roll of Honour listing the most prominent digger’s and transport rider’s names has been laid into a convenient quadrant of the floor and also the origin of the name Macmac.

6.  A Moat, Tree-ferns, Local rocks, and a grass verge have been used to embellish the Memorial’s design. The moat defines the outer rim of the Memorial, while retaining the run-off water from the convex floor-map required to irrigate the 8 tree-ferns planted therein. The attractive local rocks have been placed and spaced to enhance the Memorial’s perspective when viewed from the entrance. A suitable grass type provides an attractive and effective ground cover.

7.  A Jock of the Bushveld Waymark in the form of an original bronze “Jock Trek 1885” plaque has been mounted in the topmost of a cairn of rocks to act as a sentinel for the Memorial. The Waymark also proclaims that Jock actually trod the linking road on which the Memorial has been constructed.