My first Buff hunt was about ten years ago in Zim. Middle two weeks of December, height of the monsoon. Coolest day was 108-degrees; hottest was 118. A fairly constant light rain, 24 hours a day. Generator went out Day Two. Three changes of clothes, never quite dried out. I had learned to apply a coat of Johnson's Paste Wax to the wood stock, and a light coat of Kroil to the metal.
Blued steel, repeat every evening. No ill effects after ten days on either rifle.
Day eight, we finally split the Buff from a herd of Zebra. I had a CZ 375 (true magnum length action) rebarreled to 450 Dakota. AHR did the work, and it works flawlessly.
Next day, we got an opportunity to hunt Elephant for free. Uncle Bob was hosting a Christmas barbecue for several thousand fellow Shona tribesmen, and we got a SAT call asking if we would mind harvesting three tuskless cow elephant for the party.
About two seconds later I said "umm, okay." I had a 550 Gibbs built, and brought it along. We got into a small group of ten or so we had seen every morning. Old cows are very cranky, especially tuskless ones. For those of you who do not know, tuskless elephants cannot dig out roots. Obviously, no tusks. They learn to bully others in their group and take the roots. We pick up a game scout at the Ranger Station, and three recovery trucks. (These days, we see the slant bed trucks used to pick up non-running vehicles. They back up to the dead vehicle, tilt the ramp down, hook a chain to the front, and winch it up onto the bed. Strap it down, and away they go.) We find the cows, and wade into them. My 550 is a custom rebarrel, on a Gibbs of Bristol action, and holds two plus one in the chamber. I shoot the closest one, nine feet, and all Hades breaks loose. They have joined a herd with cows and calves and a few young bulls. Elephants running everywhere screaming. I reload, and shoot a second one about fifteen feet away, reload and shoot the third. Texas heart shot, base of the tail, and it sits like a dog from about forty feet. Second shot, "Pay the Insurance!".
The rest leave, and the dust settles. I had a hooded sweat shirt on, and the PH says, what's in the front pocket? All five empties. The reality dawns on me that the lifelong habit of catching my empties instead of just working the bolt is at work. When the PH suggests that I just let the brass fly, that the trackers will find the casings; my mouth opened, and the dumbest thing I have ever said comes out. "The cases have to be formed, and cost me several dollars apiece. I did not want to lose them."
It's hard to top a statement like that, so I just shut up.
38 seconds according to the timer on my watch.