I rise at dawn and walk down to the waters edge. A hippo family is grazing out in the tall grass and clouds linger overhead. No sign of rain though.

This is our last day at Mana Pools. We drive out to Nyamatusi Pan again, crossing a dry riverbed using a makeshift "road" of logs sunk in the sand. Gus selects a route through dense brush, and requests we stick close.

After twenty minutes, a small group of buffalo suddenly appears 25 yards off. Gus signals the group to stop, and we remain motionless. The buffalo turn and stare mutely at us for a few minutes, then move off. We continue on.

Gus stops and stares down at the cigarette in his hand. He's observing the direction the smoke drifts, measuring the wind direction, calculating internally if the animals can pick up or scent.

We are still downwind and move on. Arriving at a nearly dry pan, we install ourselves on a small knoll on the edge beneath some trees. Rosemary and I find a position where we are below the rest of the group, not far from the base of the mound and just inside the tree line. Sitting there, we have a better view beneath the branches. All is quiet.

Minutes later the buffalo herd starts entering the pan from the far side off to our left. I realise that we may be uncomfortably close, look back at Gus, and he motions us up the knoll. We move up a bit, then freeze as more and more buffalo walk out into the pan. I don't even have time to get my camera out of my bag and set it up: it's too noisy and the buffalo are too close already. Everyone is absolutely silent.

The buffalo herd fills the pan, hundreds of animals. They come within 25 yards of us. I feel like I'm sitting naked behind a few leaves. Surely they must see us? Perhaps we are still downwind. The air is hardly moving.

A big bull buries his horns in the mud nearby, sort of a "head wallow". A few of the buffalo try to drink, but what water is present is more mud than water. The herd starts to move off.

A group of six zebra appear to our right, downwind from us, moving cautiously towards the water. They pause to observe the buffalo, then approach to drink. Suddenly their heads jerk up to fix on us sitting in the trees, and they gallop off. The buffalo have gone and once again the pan is empty and silent.

It's a long walk back, during which we again cross paths with the herd as they move across a dry river bed. I reflect on the impact of the experience. Walking, sitting, watching, animals, quiet. Wonderful.

The afternoon game drive takes us back towards the previous camp. We stop at the edge of the river and watch hippos feeding on the grassy banks. An elephant strolls across the shallows to an island. Craig spots an enormous crocodile hidden in the grass. Suddenly it rears its head up, shaking violently from side to side, a huge fish in its mouth. Even from a distance, the sight invokes a quiet terror.

In the evening, faraway lions roar, calling each other for the hunt.