The Bakalahari are traditionally reported to be the oldest of the Bechuana tribes driven into the desert by a fresh migration of their own nation. Though living ever since on the same plains with the Bushmen, under the same influences of climate, enduring the same thirst, and limited to the same scanty food for centuries, they still retain in undying vigour the Bechuana love for agriculture and domestic animals, hoeing their gardens annually, though often all that they can hope for is a supply of melons and pumpkins, and carefully rearing small herds of goats, although to provide them with water is a task of no small difficulty, since the dread of hostile visits from the adjacent Bechuana tribes makes them choose their abode far from the nearest spring or pool, and leads them not unfrequently to hide their supplies by filling the pits with sand and making a fire over the spot. When they wish to draw water for use, the women come with twenty or thirty of their water vessels in a bag or net on their backs. These water vessels consist of ostrich egg-shells, with a hole in the end of each, such as would admit one’s finger. The women tie a bunch of grass to one end of a reed about two feet long, which they insert in a hole dug as deep as the arm will reach, and then ram down the wet sand firmly round it. Applying the mouth to the free end of the reed, they form a vacuum in the grass beneath, in which the water collects, and in a short time rises into the mouth. An egg-shell is placed on the ground alongside the reeds, some inches below the mouth of the sucker. A straw guides the water into the hole of the vessel as she draws mouthful after mouthful from below; and thus the whole stock of water passes through her mouth as a pump, and when taken home is carefully buried to prevent its loss by evaporation. A short stay among the thirsty Bakalaharis might teach us better to appreciate the blessings of an abundant supply of water. These poor people generally attach themselves to influential men in the different Bechuana tribes near to their desert home, in order to obtain supplies of spears, knives, tobacco, and dogs, in exchange for the skins of animals which they kill. These are small carnivora of the feline race, including two species of jackal, the dark and the golden, the former of which has the warmest fur the country yields, while the latter is very handsome when made into the skin-mantle called kaross. Next in value follow the small ocelot, the lynx, the wild and the spotted cat. Great numbers of duiker and steinbuck skins are also obtained, besides those of lions, panthers, and hyænas.