After winding stretches of road flanked by bushes, shrubs and trees on both sides, the path bent eastwards and opened to a vast clearing. Even before the driver made a complete turn, an elephant lumbered towards us, its elongated tusks aimed sharply at us. The waterhole was his, and trumpeting he let us know it. The driver immediately killed the engine. Seeing this gesture as a white flag, the elephant stayed his advance, though he was ever on guard, gaze fixed on us, ready to charge should we decide to trespass any further. We would be foolish to. Size advantage the behemoth had. Speed belied that sheer size too: If he gained momentum he would certainly outpace us, us mere humans in our undoing hubris would panic and make fatal errors. The jeep’s windscreen would have little protective effect against his tusks coveted and long hunted for.