Two experiences marked my journey.

O ne day, as Omari (my guide)and I were returning to the lodge, it was dusk, Omari stopped suddenly and backed up. He backed the Land Rover behind a large tree and told me to “listen and watch.” Just as darkness was beginning to cross the plains suddenly a thunderous herd of around 600 Cape Buffalo came charging through the bush, along the trail and passed in front of us. They were on their way to their nighttime resting place. It was astounding to see and hear.

A second experience happened one morning in the Taranguire. I was traveling along a narrow trail with Omari, looking for Mr. Leopard when we spotted a freshly killed, large Cape Buffalo. It was still in tact except its tail had been bitten off, and its entrails were ripped out. There was blood everywhere. Brush and bush were knocked down, it had been the seen of a tremendous battle. We found two young male Lions hiding in the bush. Each looked very beaten up and one was, we believed, fatally injured. They had taken the Buffalo on by themselves and while they killed it, they paid a heavy price-the cost of being a young, starving male Lion driven from the pride.