The following from Stewart Edward White's "The Land of Footprints" (complete text available for your reading pleasure in Nickudu's Archives). I think he got it just right:

"The problem [of hunting cape buffalo] would be simplified were one able or willing to slip into the thicket or up to the grazing herd and kill the nearest beast that offers. As a matter of fact an ordinary herd will contain only two or three bulls worth shooting; and it is the hunter's delicate task to glide and crawl here and there, with due regard for sight, scent and sound, until he has picked one of these from the scores of undesirables.

Many times will he worm his way by inches toward the great black bodies half defined in the screen of thick undergrowth only to find that he has stalked cows or small bulls. Then inch by inch he must back out again, unable to see twenty yards to either side, guiding himself by the probabilities of the faint chance breezes in the thicket. To right and left he hears the quiet continued crop, crop, crop, sound of animals grazing. The sweat runs down his face in streams, and blinds his eyes, but only occasionally and with the utmost caution can he raise his hand-or, better, lower his head-to clear his vision.

When at last he has withdrawn from the danger zone, he wipes his face, takes a drink from the canteen, and tries again. Sooner or later his presence comes to the notice of some old cow. Behind the leafy screen where unsuspected she has been standing comes the most unexpected and heart-jumping crash! Instantly the jungle all about roars into life. The great bodies of the alarmed beasts hurl themselves through the thicket, smash! bang! crash! smash! as though a tornado were uprooting the forest.

Then abruptly a complete silence! This lasts but ten seconds or so; then off rushes the wild stampede in another direction; only again to come to a listening halt of breathless stillness. So the hunter, unable to see anything, and feeling very small, huddles with his gunbearers in a compact group, listening to the wild surging short rushes, now this way, now that, hoping that the stampede may not run over him. If by chance it does, he has his two shots and the possibility of hugging a tree while the rush divides around him. The latter is the most likely; a single buffalo is hard enough to stop with two shots, let alone a herd.

And yet, sometimes, the mere flash and noise will suffice to turn them, provided they are not actually trying to attack, but only rushing indefinitely about. Probably a man can experience few more thrilling moments than he will enjoy standing in one of the small leafy rooms of an African jungle while several hundred tons of buffalo crash back and forth all around him."

Haven't done it; will do it Sept 2007- that description really fires me up-thanks!!!

That EXACTLY describes my one (but with hope not only) buff hunt. 6.9/7.0 days of that. The final 0.1/7.0 was broken by a whole hell of a lot of shooting .

-Steve

quote:

Probably a man can experience few more thrilling moments than he will enjoy standing in one of the small leafy rooms of an African jungle while several hundred tons of buffalo crash back and forth all around him."

Definitely sounds like my kind of fun!

Described perfectly, at least in my limited experience. It revived my memories as exactly one year ago I was doing the same thing and only after five days of hard hunting did our efforts pay off. I miss it and can't wait to do it again. jorge

We who have been fortunate to experience this can close our eyes and see and even dream of it...the spoor, fresh droppings steaming early morning, hearing them in front of you behind the screen of brush...

Mike

Now those who just read the discription, but have not been there will understand my passion for Cape Buffalo hunting, to the exclusion of all else!

Perfect description! There's not much that beats the thrill of a buffalo stalk

I can still feel my butt pucker at that crashing sound!!!!

God I loved it!!

Sprig