Another of the adroit tracking tricks at the disposal of the BigGameHunter is:

This incendiary gambit is only for the anxious, the alert and the intrepid,
(of course being deficit these traits exposes you as no real hunter any way),
and it is sui generis.
If not speaking to others in a way to which they can disagree is laying the patient
on the operating table and having the room become calm and quiet,
then not agreeing with yourself begins the actual slicing of flesh.
 

As soon as possible you need realize for yourself that
the BigGame will never be bagged  --  not even seen  --  while you are arguing,
criticizing or correcting,
whether it be with another person or with yourself.

The landscape is littered with sham safaris; ordinary city folk playing make-believe;
they wander out here on the plain periodically with Trophy Spotter's Guide books, their family, their business associates, their fellow researchers, picnic baskets,
and above all  -- their mouths  –
how else can they argue and disagree with one another?!  -- in,(of course):
The Pursuit Of The Truth, (which is what TheGame has come to be called in town).
They have high fun, (which only a fool shuns),
but their hunting expeditions are just harmless exercises in dilettantism.
In group encampments, they take up individual positions  --  and not physical ones --
as they avidly discuss what sights they wish to see, and truths they hope to bag.
 

If you have read this far then you should hope you understand that
this safari takes place in the mind, and the game is intangible;
what men believe they hunt has no physical reality,
and what they think they catch --  no human hand can touch.
But these amateur adventurers do not see it thus;
they speak as though the game they seek has material substance;
the inability, or disinclination to distinguish between the tangible,and incorporeal
being a salient characteristic of irredeemable city dwellers;
it does them no damage, but it does doom their hunting efforts to futility;
enjoyable week end jaunts they may be --  but trophy getters they are not.
 

The few, to-the-great-safari-born are sparsely scattered about,
alone in their jerry rigged blinds --
surrounded by ever changing camps of make-believe hunters
whose constant wrangling over what they imagine the game to be,
bombards their ears,and mind, (if left unprotected).
 

If such a man learns to ignore the completely meaningless palaver of others
he is then faced with the better challenge of the words in his own brain which
relentlessly assault him with their inane declarations concerning TheHunt.
The ideas that magically appear in yours and everyone else’s head,
by their nature can not or will not distinguish between the two obvious realities
in which man lives: the physical one in which everything can be touched,
and the mental one in which nothing can be;
both are fully functioning, necessary realities, but they are of two different orders,
and without a man have an abiding realization and operational acceptance of this fact, he will never be on the track of the RealGame  --  he cannot ever be.
It matters not how many books he reads on the subject,
nor how many people he consults who claim expertise in the matter,
and the amount of personal thought he gives to it counts for naught;
you can never catch a lion if what you think you are after is derived from a drawing of a griffin.
 

Every word and image that automatically appears in your mind
regarding matters which exist only in man’s second, intangible, mental reality --
-- which are not identified for what they are --
something totally apart from the material reality in which you physically exist,
are fatally flawed  --  which is why men unwittingly feel the need to defend them;
to promote them  --  and then argue passionately for their spurious righteousness.

The knowing, solitary stalker lets the rest of the world’s people have their fun --
it is nothing to him; it is simply a natural part of the earth’s spin   --   so:
after he has wittingly ceased participating in their hobby in their camp,
he turns his attention to his own, world’s-peoples-commonly-shared-mind,
which talks the very same talk as the week end pretenders
whose company he has just quit.
Now all of his focus is on but what is going on in his private camp;
the endless, useless noise produced by his seeming wrangling with his own ideas,
which are but his individual feed from the collective mental transmitter.
 

It matters not your I.Q., your education, the facts you have in memory;
nothing your natural born mind has learned about man’s second reality
has any relevance whatsoever to the game which is the real goal of the GreatSafari -