yesterdays buffalo encounter is still fresh. All those stories you've heard about hunting buffalo now seem true. Even the ones your PH told you with the smirk on his face. but that was yeaterday, and today is today. The leopard baits are still hanging and you didn't get the chance to check them all yesterday. Sometimes buffalo can do that to you. You're concentrations skips between remembering the buffalo, and imagining that huge male leopard still awaiting you. It's miles between baits, and checking them takes all day. You feel like your butt end has been glued to the seat in the back of the cruisers. The bumps and swerves are starting to take a toll on your back. Afterall you've been riding around on that damn seat for 7 days now, and your butt has a reason to be sore. Even at that the amazement of see the animals is never dull. Seeing the zebra and wildebest herds have almost become mundane and you watch ahead of you for the sight of something rare. Once again the tracker pounds on the cab and the vehicle slams to a stop. He's pointing to a small patch of brush 50 yards away and jabbering something you don't understand. Look Look quick says Fred your PH, its a grysbuck there see him. You do, but only when he darts away. That was a good one fred tells you. OK, but damn they sure are small aren't they. Then before you can move on you see a flash of movement just before the next curve in the road. It's your turn to see something first. The road is running next to the river, and you saw something moving towards the water. Proudly you point it out, but neither your tracker or Fred saw anything. You're not sure of what it was, but insist that it was something. Grabbing the old winchester out of the rack the three of you walk slowly alongside of the brush that edges the river. It is just a short hike to the curve, and your are beginning to doubt your eyes. Then the doubt vanishes as the track spots the bushbuck laying there. Just a bit over 100 yards the beautiful chobe bushbuck isn't aware of you, that is yet. One more step to get a better view and he jumps to his feet. Fred is spreading the shooting sticks out in front of you and urging you to be quick. Time slows down and it takes an eternity to get into position. The crosshairs on the old lyman scope on top of the model 70 steadies on the shoulder of the buck and your mind takes a millisecond to think back. Think back on the old model 70 that was your fathers. Think back that if he were alive today how he would have felt to be here, now, with you. But the trigger squeeeze is automatic and the 180 grain nosler from the old 06 hits the buck right on the point of the shoulder. Another trophy for the skinners to work on. A most beautiful animal, perhaps the most beautiful you have ever seen. Fred and his tracker jimson throw the buck into the back of the cruiser and cover it with grass to keep it cool, and you are back in that damn hard seat once again, bouncing along the dirt road and onto the nexst bait. This one hasn't even been looked at, so on to the next one, and the next one and the next one. Until that impala ram that you rehung in the dry river bottom. It's the one that the huge males track was alongside of, the one that had to replace the one already eaten. Yes that one. Your throat is dry as you walk through the soft sand. Something in your instincts is telling you that maybe just maybe. Then as Fred rounds the corner of the river , he stops and lifts the binoculars. You come up behind and lift yours to see what he's looking at. You can see the bait, or whats left of it. The leopard has come back. He ate half of the iimpala last night. Now its time for the work to start. You have to help build a blind. 80 yards away there is a spot, under a tree, surrounded by brush that is just about perfect. The opo up blind comes out of the truck. Chairs go into it. A rifle rest is fabricated out of the mopane sticks. Grass and leaves are gathered and cover the blind so that it looks just like the brush surrounding it. It's just 3 PM but you have to be in the blind early just in case he come, and you hape, wish, pray that he will. Fred climbs in first and you behind him. The trackers have taken your bushbuck back to camp, some 25 K away, but they will be back. Jimson know just where to come back to. Now its time for you to sit and wait. Sit quietly, no talking, no moving about. Sit and be quiet, quiet, quiet, he might be coming, quiet

I hope the rest of the story will be up by tomorow ! Cannot wait longer than 24 hours to read the rest

Buthcblok, looks like it might be interesting but please put it in paragraphs as it's very difficult to read as posted.