We were camped out near a river in Kenya in 1971. The PH asked me at breakfast if I had heard the rhino in camp the night before. I, of course, hadn't. He pointed out the tracks in the dust to me and went on to say that we had evidently inadvertently camped astride the rhino's path to the river. He then related a tale about a rhino taking a dislike to the latrine tent and tearing it to shreds one night.

Late that night, answering a call of nature, I was peacefully perched on the throne when I heard the unmistakable snort of a rhino a short distance away. My rifles were with the gun bearer who was responsible for cleaning them every evening. I spent a very tense few minutes until I heard our uninvited guest depart.