I have long regarded the buffalo (Syncerus caffer, not Bison bison) as a very marvelous game animal. Not for his rarity, nor for his horns, but for his attitude. Thus,
"You wound a buffalo and he turns into 1500lbs of hate. He can run faster than you, smell what you had for supper two nights ago, turn on a coin, hide behind a bunch of leaves, and when this big black brute boils out of the bush his little eyes are focused only on you. Nothing will turn him. As he charges, he chews up bullets and spits them out. Only death will stop him - his, or yours, or both"
(by Jep Jonas in Magnum).
If this does not sound like something you would at least momentarily think of enjoying, you are either a woman (nothing wrong with that hey! ) or else you need to examine yourself quite sternly, and wonder what, exactly, happened to your machismo
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