There are, of course, exceptions to this hunting drama, such as the time when I spent two arduous weeks flogging the savanna with bait trees and generally giving my PH bellyaches with suggestions of how we could do better - all to no avail – when, finally, I had to pack my gear and set off home with my tail firmly tucked between my legs.
Imagine my delight when the holder of the concession insisted I find time later in the year to come back and try again at no charge! He believed I had paid my dues and deserved another chance to finalize what I had begun.
Three months later I strode into camp at 4 p.m. and was told to dump my gear and grab the rifle and a few rounds so we could quickly check a nearby bait that had already been set up, and be back by dark for dinner.
We peered
