Is anything afraid of an elephant?

I'm in Pasta Pomodoro for the best rare skirt steak on the planet. More intervals on the bike today, and my craving for iron continues to separate me from my veggie friends.
Emily is my waitperson, I am the last customer, and I am attacking the Tirimisu already out of the to-go box. We agree on the superior piece of meat, the work hours (I owned a restaurant on the Big Island in Hawaii), and somehow the small talk morphed into killer bees, then rhinos.
I think it started with altitude, which ironically is an image I selected for my blog. I tell her the boring moments on the Big Island I cured by shipping my skis over from the Mainland and skiing Mauna Kea at 14,000 feet for one day.
The next day at Hapuna Beach, we all get sick from what was surely a minor case of HAPE (see Wiki) which I tell Emily is possible at high altitude, which segs into my Annapurna III Expedition. I am recalling my day with a rhino in Nepal, after we climbed Annapurna.
As a cool-down, Tom, Michael, and I visited Tiger Tops, a national project dedicated to re-populating the dwindling tiger population after the British decimated it. We have a tour guide, and I describe to Emily the beginning of a casual walking tour to one of the observation towers for visitors to view some "wildlife". I am thinking this will be a totally boring day as a tourist, but maybe, just maybe we will see a tiger and it will be worth our time.
The first fragrance on the trail is a large pile of dung. Too large for a horse I am thinking, and it is swarming with flies. The flies are actually migrating killer bees feeding on elephant dung, which we will later be told just terrorized villages in northern India leaving dead people in the wake. Michael is at the front of our little expedition, and he starts sprinting, arms flying in all directions, with dozens of tiny insects pumping away with their thoraxes at his clothes, neck, and face. Slow motion sets in, the guide is yelling at us to jump into the river and throw our colored daypacks as far away from us as we can.
"Bees like color!" I hear. Now we are all sprinting, and I have torn the clasp out of my long hair and messed it all over my face and neck like a portable mosquito net. It's "every man for himself" and I hit the river first without my daypack.
"Ok, they took off, you can come out of the river now" our guide yells.
We gather for a body count. Tom pulls out his Swiss army knife and, like on the mountain, calmly performs his surgery, cutting off the still pumping venom sacs in our skins. Michael's lip is the size of Alaska, and his face is beginning to swell.
"We can walk this off on the way to the tiger observation tower" our guide states. So I guess he thinks we will live and have some more adventure left in us.
About a half hour later, a snort ahead that sounds like a 7.5 earth tremor sets off the alarm again.
"It's a rhino" our guide flatly states. "Take cover!".
He's got to be kidding. No, he's not. Here he comes, the most freakingly huge alligator skinned alien beast I have seen, even at the zoo. Again, "every man for himself". Guess we left the team spirit on Annapurna, as I face it with the rhino, the men out of sight.
I hang a right toward something that looks like a tree. It's pathetic, but I think it will hold me. I drop the colored pack bait again and climb to the top as it bends over and threatens to toss me off. This rhino has a good nose and lousy eyesight, because all he has to go by is my scent. He stops at the foot of the tiny sapling that is hosting me, snorts my pack with a 5.5 tremor and then the trunk of my treehouse. I'm a history piece for National Geographic I am thinking at this point, when I see Tom, Michael, and the guide over the savannah brush gently swaying like they are sailing gracefully through the terai.
The rhino turns, snorts another tremor, and makes a "fast walk" for it.
Now I know, rhinos are afraid of elephants, because at that moment the guys come into view on top of their limo service - an elephant driven by his trainer. I am subtle in my arm waving, but they see me.
"You can come down now, rhinos are afraid of elephants" the guide yells at me.
No kidding.
Emily's eyes are as big as the serving trays at this point and get bigger when I tell her that was just one day of our year long adventure tour.
"I could start in on the Iranian revolution we got trapped in, but if I do Emily you will never get out of here tonight".
"Dang Ann, you should start a blog!"
"Really? That's hilarious. I just started one today".
"Really? Where can I find it? Will you post some of your stories?"
"Yeah, ok. I'll start with killer bees and the rhinos".