Shikari's answer jibes completely with my experience. I have only been charged once, by a rhino, and this was after he had been followed and pestered for about an hour. I was also in a car which was charged by a rhino, but in my experience rhinos have a permanent chip on their shoulder.

No bad experiences with hippos, but I have never gotten between a hippo and the water, which I gather is a most unwise thing to do.

My second elephant was in a very testy mood and probably would have charged if he could have located us. He had recently broken off his left tusk, and the nerve was still festering in the stump and must have been extremely painful. Moreover, he was on his last set of teeth, and not feeding very well. Since the right tusk weighed 96 pounds, I was almost as upset as he with his loss.

My first buffalo was clearing out when I shot him, not a respectable head, as it turned out, but the next three were part of a herd which was feeding in some open scrub. Since this was in the Selous in Tanzania, they were not exposed to humans on a regular basis and were not spooky. We got within 50 yards before they reacted, and the reaction was to line up in a row facing us, as I have seen cows do in a field, when faced with something unfamiliar.

My hunter pointed out the one to shoot, and I shot him directly through the chest with my .505. He disappeared over the hill, but the rest milled around and then fell back into line, facing me. The hunter pointed out an even bigger bull, and I shot him, also, again through the chest. More milling around, and then they lined up again. Finally, the hunter pointed out the largest bull of all, I shot him, and the rest decamped.

Two of the bulls were dead when we found them, a hundred yards or so away, the third was still on his feet, but too sick to move, and a second shot finished him, too. My confidence in my .505 knew no bounds.

The last bull I shot was one which the local tribesmen had observed frequently retiring to a patch of thick brush for a siesta each day. We hiked the the location, I was posted on a rocky ledge overlooking the expected escape route, and the locals advanced on the brush patch from the opposite side and started throwing rocks. The bull came out of the brush like a rocket, directly in front of me, like a high house four shot at skeet, and about the same distance away. I hit him four times with the .505, and he went down so fast that his nose plowed up dirt. I wouldn't call him a yellow belly, however.

You can see him and the other trophies mentioned herein at http://www.frappr.com/?a=viewphoto&id=3823381&pid=9240786&myphotos=1