First would be the time some years back, when hunting in Camp Blanding near Jax. I bent down to tie my boot laces, and at that exact instance, a bullet thwacked into the tree I was leaning against. Were it not for the untied lace, I would have taken the bullet about the center of my throat. Never had any idea of who fired it, and I did not hear the shot.
I did not hunt Blanding for a LONG time after that.
Second, would be the time I was hog hunting in what we called 'bottomless bay' (Impassable Swamp) north of Lake City. I had a large boar charge me just as I pulled myself up out of the water onto a hammock. Shot him at point blank range. Although I blew out the back of his skull with the 240 grain .44 mag, his momentum carried him off the little ledge, and on top of me. With all the noise, thrashing, and weight, I was not sure whether I was dead or alive. Had to quarter the hog to get him out, and that took several trips. What a day that was.