SWIRLING WHITE EGRETS told us where the buffalo were. We’d already bumped them once, lightly, but the herd was several hundred strong. Most had no idea what spooked them and they settled again on a short-grass savanna just the other side of a papyrus channel.
That’s actually perfect, provided you don’t mind wading waist-deep through sucky, smelly mud. For buffalo, I don’t mind at all, so we came along the edge, found a hippo trail and slowly made our way through. The nearest buffaloes were already in range while we were still shin-deep, so professional hunter (PH) and guide Mark Haldane took the sticks and we crept forward, leaving the rest of the party stuck in the muck.
We were about 60 yards from the nearest buffalo when Haldane put…