Our hunt was no different. Picture this. A sea of 12' high grass, and our tracker gets us into the middle of a herd of 300 buffalo. You could hear them and smell them. Now and then you'd see a patch of black hide, or the sun glint off a horn, but we never saw a single animal. Once they realize we're there they want to get away. The ground trembles, the tracker runs past me from my right and I swing on him expecting a set or horns to follow. He's gone and behind a tree with my wife in tow. All of us have our rifles trained on that wall of grass 4' from our muzzles knowing it will be just a matter of moments before we're run over. Crazy exciting!
A few days later he were in a forested area at sunset with the same herd. It was wild. You could hear grunts and bellows. You could hear crashing through the bush as small trees were being knocked over. It was all but dark when we came out of there. I'm bringing up the rear when the other hunter's .375 booms. I fully expected to see a bull buff in the dirt, but it was a wildebeest who was probably wondering what was causing all the excitement.
We got chased by an juvenile elephant, twice on consecutive evenings - you wouldn't believe so much noise could come out of one animal. We saw lions, we set a leopard bait, but nothing hit it. We were almost run over by a hippo when driving back to camp in the dark. My wife was in the front with the driver (no doors or roof on the Land Cruiser) and she could feel it's breath on her hand.
Even if no shooting opportunities had been available, the experience was worth every penny - and it was quite a few pennies. Having the trophies home brings back a flood of memories, and the desire to return.