In the marauding expeditions which they frequently undertake for the purpose of stealing the cattle of their neighbours, the Caffres, Bechuanas, or Boors--for, having no property themselves, they have little regard for the property of others--they show no less expertness and cunning, never venturing an attack before having first carefully spied out every circumstance, and taken every precaution to ensure success. At the time of the last quarter of the moon, their thefts are most to be feared, for they then execute their robberies in the dark before midnight, and afterwards profit by the moonlight for a more rapid flight. Their physiognomy has the characteristic traits of the Hottentot race, but their eye is infinitely more sharp and wild, their countenance more expressive and intelligent, and all their gestures more lively--a difference caused, no doubt, by the greater mental and bodily actions to which a life full of hardships and privations constrains them. As may be imagined from the few ideas it has to express, their language is very poor, and, on account of its peculiar and characteristic click and its harsh gutturals, more resembles the screeching of an animal than a human idiom. When a horde has been successful in some hunting or marauding expedition, it keeps the fact as secret as possible, for as soon as the intelligence spreads, everyone hastens to the spot to come in for his share of the feast. For fear of being obliged to divide with others, the prey is devoured as fast as possible, with inconceivable gluttony, and what cannot be used is instantly destroyed, merely from the dog-in-the-manger motive, to keep others from its enjoyment. When, for instance, the Bushmen have found a nest of ostrich eggs, and circumstances will not allow of their remaining on the spot, they take away as many as they can carry, and break the rest; or, when they meet with a great herd of springbocks, they will wound as many as possible with their poisoned arrows, though six or eight would suffice them with food for many days. It is a state of society like that to which, probably, the communists would reduce civilized Europe, if their insane doctrines could ever be realized. Despite the many privations they have to endure, the Bushmen prefer the utter freedom of the desert to the constraint of an agricultural and pastoral life. They live in the Kalahari by choice, the Bakalahari from compulsion, and both possess an intense love of liberty.