Showing posts with label tiger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tiger. Show all posts

Monday, 9 April 2012

What hope for tigers?



                                                Tiger by Anne-Marie Kalus


Of late on this blog there has been much talk of tigers, but there’s been little mention of the crisis the tiger faces. It’s time we talked.

These three quotations, from books written over the past century, illustrate the catastrophic decline of the tiger, and all the wildlife and wild places associated with it, in just one hundred years. The first was published in the 1920s, the second in 1944 and the third in 2006.

Of course, the big cats are a nuisance. There are too many tigers and leopards in the jungle – so many, indeed, that the few which are shot make scarcely any impression on their numbers.

J. H. Williams
Elephant Bill

There is, however, one point on which I am convinced that all sportsmen – no matter whether their viewpoint has been a platform on a tree, the back of an elephant or their own feet – will agree with me, and that is, that a tiger is a large hearted gentleman with boundless courage and that when he is exterminated – as exterminated he will be unless public opinion rallies to his support – India will be the poorer by having lost the finest of her fauna. 

Jim Corbett
Man-Eaters of Kumaon

I now know that India is living with her last tigers and there is little hope for the future.

Valmik Thapar
The Last Tiger

Read the last one again. It was written by an energetic, charismatic man who has devoted his life to the tiger and to his tidal-wave commitment to saving it. Valmik Thapar is no quitter; but in these soul-strangling words he accepts that there is no hope for the tiger. I read his book in Nagpur in October 2008, fighting back tears, tears of shame that I belong to a generation that is letting the tiger disappear from our forests forever.

Why then has Valmik Thapar given up? His book was written in the mid-noughties, when poaching had reached a new peak, smuggling to China was rampant, India's tiger population was crashing again and in two tiger parks, Panna and Sariska, the tiger had been wholly wiped out. This was a worse time even than today. Perhaps.

But the roots of the tiger crisis lie deeper by far, in the latter part of the nineteenth century and much of the twentieth. At this time India, largely under the British Empire, was engaged in a tremendous spasm of deforestation and a conscious policy of driving out wildlife, such as the tiger, which came into conflict with human interests. It is suggested that in 1900 at least 40,000 tigers walked the forests and grasslands of India alone. Today, the world population is considered to be 3,200 and the most optimistic estimates place India’s population at 1,500. From 40,000 to 1,500 in 110 years. It's chilling.

This catastrophic loss of tigers is where the real problem lies. Or rather, this catastrophic loss of tiger habitat and tiger prey. It’s a fundamental of ecology that predators cannot survive without healthy stocks of their food. And in the case of the tiger, the food is large and requires great areas of grazing and browsing.

If we say, for the sake of argument, that an Indian tiger, most conservatively, requires two chital per week, then a single adult tiger would need the equivalent of 104 chital per year. If today’s tiger population in India were to eat only chital (an impossible assumption as many of the tigers live in the northeast where there are no chital), this would mean 156,000 chital were killed in India by tigers each year. Not to mention the needs of mothers raising cubs (young cubs are not included in population estimates), nor the needs of leopards, wolves, lions and other Indian predators. Extrapolated to the estimated tiger population in India in 1900, this would mean 4,160,000 hypothetical chital killed by tigers alone in India each year at that time.

                        Chital in Pench National Park, India, by Anne-Marie Kalus.

Four million chital, or thereabouts, or indeed their equivalent in sambar, hog deer, wild boar, barking deer, barasingha and gaur, require unimaginably huge areas of forest and grassland to survive. Unimaginably huge, that is, in today’s world. And of course for every chital, barking deer or gaur killed, there have to be numberless others which survive to breed if the tigers are to have prey in the future. The fundamental problem then is human population, our demand for land to feed ourselves, and the consequent massive-scale loss of habitat for the tiger’s prey and the tiger. This habitat loss has occurred on a vast scale and continues today. All around India’s tiger parks, mining projects are approved, ground-waters are drained, roads and railways are built or upgraded and habitat is degraded. This is the fundamental, chronic problem, though there are others, more acute and more prominent in news headlines.

Don’t think I’m moralising or – certainly not – sneering at cultures in the developing world. In Britain we did our massive-scale deforesting in the Bronze Age and we drove out our top post-Ice-Age land predators – lynx, wolf, bear – hundreds of years ago. We have no right at all to look at India, or any other country in the developing world, and shake our heads self-righteously, not least in the case of India because we were the instigators of deforestation there. Nonetheless, it’s important, in any discussion of the tiger to understand that the fundamental problem is the landscape-scale loss of habitat. Simply put: tigers today are restricted to minute fragments of their once-widespread habitat and the rest of the landscape of Asia is utterly hostile to them.

Concomitant with this apocalyptic loss of habitat is the terrible truth that the tiger’s biology and ours don’t rub along very well. Almost everywhere in the world humans live – and we live almost everywhere – we have traditionally grazed livestock. We have been doing this for thousands of years and throughout this time we have taken a dim view of other animals wanting our livestock for themselves. So for thousands of years we have systematically driven predators, and there is no predator more perfect or more powerful than the tiger, from the land we perceive as ours, which is everywhere. It’s easy in the developed world to look down on this practice as primitive. This is naive. In the UK we have extinguished wolves and bears and harried wild cats, polecats and pine martens to bleak corners of their once extensive ranges. We must remember too that we in the developed world have not recently been poor. In our generation we do not understand what it means for all our wealth to be sunk in a single buffalo, nor the devastation of that buffalo being taken by a tiger. For literal millions of people in India, and all over the world, this is reality. A single buffalo alone stands between your family and destitution. The tiger in this equation is a legitimate foe.

And it is all too easy to dispense of a tiger. The tiger’s biology – tragically – means there is a tendency for young animals, especially young males, to wander in search of habitat at around two years of age. Dominant male tigers do not tolerate the presence of young males which consequently are pushed out of their mothers’ ranges and forced to carve lives for themselves elsewhere. Only there is no elsewhere. Remember, we’ve chopped down all the forest, we’ve converted it to farmland, we’ve forced the tiger and its prey into minute fragments of habitat. Where then do our hypothetical young males go? They leave the forest – they have no choice – and enter human-inhabited areas where their only possible prey is livestock.

As I said above, it’s all too easy to dispense of a tiger. A tiger in the wild will kill a large animal, a sambar or a gaur, and stay by it for the two-three-four-five days it takes to eat, returning generally by night to feast. If a tiger kills your cow, perhaps your second cow, of only three, to be lost this way in your village on the edge of a park where the rich and the privileged say we ought to be saving the tiger, in desperation you lace the cow’s carcase with poison, knowing that the tiger is nearby and will return for his kill in the night. Thus many a young tiger dies, lost to the breeding population through this tangle of catastrophic habitat loss, human inequity, and the tiger’s biology.

Finally, there is the ghastly problem everybody knows about: poaching. In theory this is a tiny, superficial issue compared to the cataclysmic loss of tiger habitat and the perfectly legal hunting of tigers over the past century; yet it may well be the straw that breaks the tiger’s back. In the mid-noughties it looked as though the loss of the tiger from India altogether were a real possibility. Tiger skins and body parts were smuggled out of India to Tibet and China in staggering quantity and India was losing her tigers by the hour. Tigers became locally extinct in Sariska and Panna, their numbers were halved in Ranthambore, and at least a quarter of all the tigers in the country were probably lost. Happily now tigers have been reintroduced to Panna, where they have begun to breed, and to Sariska. Poaching, I was told last month in both Tadoba and Kanha, is momentarily in abeyance, and there are many cubs in these parks and in Pench. But there is no time or space for complacency. The tiger numbers only 1,500 in India and 3,200 in the world. To put these numbers in context, the London 2012 Olympic Stadium alone will seat 80,000 people. A concerted effort on the part of poachers will remove tigers from the wild altogether in five years.

What then can we do? What can the rich, distant, privileged do in the developed world to save the tiger in the remaining scraps of forest in its Asian range? Our first duty is to inform ourselves, engage our minds with the issue, become campaigners for the tiger and for all the wildlife and the people with whom the tiger shares its forest. Two excellent sources of information on tigers, their habitats and the crisis they face are the Wildlife Protection Society of India, founded and directed by the energetic Belinda Wright, and Tiger Time, which is led by the legendary wildlife artist David Shepherd. These organisations’ websites give details of campaigns and projects in which they are involved, including WPSI projects in partnership with Indian authorities, tiger reserves, and villages around them. Tiger Time is also the host of an urgent petition to persuade the Chinese government to ban all tiger trade in their country. This would not only shut down the abhorrent farming of tigers in China; it would also remove the blanket under which trade in wild tigers continues freely across India and Nepal's porous borders. On both websites there are opportunities to donate money to the conservation of the tiger in the field. Acting now is critical, if the tiger is to be saved.

We can save the tiger, to the extent that tigers can still roam small, highly-managed stretches of forest and grassland in India and elsewhere. We must. In a world with no wild tigers, I see no hope for us.


Munna, the dominant male in much of Kanha National Park, photographed in November 2008 by Anne-Marie Kalus. Munna is laid-back, charismatic and readily identified by having CAT written across his forehead.
                                        
Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not.
Dr Seuss
The Lorax

Thursday, 5 April 2012

Deer here, deer there


The barnacle geese clang and clatter over my house at first light, a piping pair of oystercatchers in their wake. The lesser black-backs begin their deep yodel too, a first attempt at spring duetting. By this pond sleep comes dropping slow, so I get up and go for a run: chiffchaff, willow warbler, blackcap, robin, dunnock and song thrush singing, rook cawing delightedly, jay shrieking, a harrier drifting through the tops of the reeds. Along the river bank the strong scent-cloud of a fox and, this time, no stops for breath. I stop just twice: once to check the fresh slots of a red deer and once out of respect for the pied and chestnut horses by the bridge, who don't like it if you run.

Today I'm supporting Norfolk Wildlife Trust at an event in Great Yarmouth. This is part of Wild Norfolk, a huge three-year project helping people in the county's towns to discover urban wildlife. I'm expecting herring gulls in silvery spring plumage on the rooftops and harriers along the Acle Straight.

From red deer at home to spotted deer in India. These photos have kindly been sent by Ian and Tracey Quennell who joined us in Central India on a magnificent Tiger Direct tour last month.


                                                       Chewing chital

                                         Golden jackals in Pench

                                         Male nilgai in Pench

                                                      Shikra

                                                       Gaur mother and calf

                                                      Hathi walle at work

                                                       Four-year-old tigress in Bishanpura, Kanha

                                         Hard-ground barasingha in Sondar meadow, Kanha

                                                       Southern plains grey langur

                                         Jungle cat by day

                                         Chhoti Mata in Mukki, Kanha

                                         Happy Naturetrekkers who have just seen Chhoti Mata


Tuesday, 3 April 2012

F1 and family


My friends Sheila and John Winton, who with a group of their friends travelled with Sujan and me through Assam over Christmas in 2010, have sent these photos of a glorious tiger family we were blessed to watch in Tadoba two weeks ago. This is the family of F1, the oldest identifiable tigress in Tadoba. Her four cubs, three females and a male, are eighteen months old and are both ineffably beautiful and dippily friendly. Long, long may these incomparable animals roam the wild dry forests of Maharashtra.

Sheila is from Suffolk and, since I'm from a finer county to the north, we maintain a friendly rivalry. Sending her photos, she writes that she has been reading Compare the Marsh Tit: You will go far. Not many people can make Norfolk sound interesting!


                                         One of F1's female cubs sniffing a tree

                                         The same cub in the flehmen response



                                          F1's family play-fighting in the Pandherpauni water-hole



                                         F1 with her male cub

Tuesday, 27 March 2012

LHR4


My journeying is almost done for now, though tonight I’m stranded in Heathrow Terminal 4 and I won’t be at home in Norfolk until tomorrow. Our Tiger Direct tour ended with a dramatic flourish typical of tigers. A hitch in park paperwork, deftly and diplomatically resolved by Tarun, meant we entered the Mukki gate half an hour later than planned on our last morning in Kanha. As our karma would have it, this hitch put all four of our jeeps in just the right spot when Chhoti Mata or Little Mother, the gorgeously-marked mother of three ten-month-old cubs, strolled confidently across the road among us and spray-marked two trees by the forest roadside. After she had gone, barely believing our last-minute luck, we sat beaming and listening to the alarm call of a barking deer telling us that she had slipped into the rocky hills.

This wondrous female tiger, sharply striped in black on a deep orange coat, her colours heightened in the kindly shade of the sal forest, is around seven years old. She raised two cubs last year and was very frequently seen with her family in Mukki. This year she has three cubs but her behaviour has changed and she rarely allows herself to be seen. Though I am in the business of showing tigers to people, and as discussed here previously my Indian tiger-watching friends persuade me strongly that tiger tourism is important for tiger conservation, I find it heartening that these tigers whom I love choose whether or not to be seen by us. One older female, still alive I’m told, whom I have seen several times from elephants in Mukki, simply doesn’t like jeeps and is never seen from them. She has nothing against elephants though and will allow people to approach her closely on them. By contrast Munna, the muscular, charismatic male tiger who rules the Kanha zone of the park, knows the power of his own image and happily wanders through lines of jeeps in the middle of the day or slumps beside them to sleep. Munna is equally prepared to be photographed from elephants and is currently the pride of Kanha’s A-list.

Weary though I am, after two months of work and travel in Asia, and today’s long journey against the world’s time zones, I shall not sleep tonight on my wooden seat in the arrivals lounge of Terminal 4. Sitting here awake I smile a broad smile, seeing in my heart the small-clawed otters of Kaziranga scampering across a dusty road in front of us; hearing the forests of Assam sob with the soul-born song of western hoolock gibbons; smelling the fresh green leaves of the tiger-trodden sal forests of Kanha; scanning the south Sri Lankan sea for the blows of blue whales; and watching again with my heart’s eye the sixty sunsets I have seen in Asia since I was last at home. I have been richly blessed these past two months and am humbly grateful to all the people and the wildlife I have met in India and Sri Lanka. Thanks too to you for following my journeys here.

I cried of course on seeing Chhoti Mata yesterday: tears of happiness that my clients had their chance to see into the life of the most magnificent of beasts; tears of gratitude too for all that I have experienced on this trip; and tears of fear, fear that we may yet be weak enough to let this priceless being vanish from our forests.


“Thy trail ends here, then, manling?” said Kaa, as Mowgli threw himself down, his face in his hands. “Cry thy cry. We be of one blood, thou and I – man and snake together.”

Rudyard Kipling
The Jungle Book: Book Two

Monday, 26 March 2012

Cats all round


23rd March

At Jungle Lodge everybody smiles. They’re right to smile as this is a beautiful place to live and to work. Here in the shady sal forest I know my clients and I will always be welcomed with the same big smiles, the same delicious food, the same attention to the tiniest detail, and the same commitment to sharing with everyone the tiger and the many other plants and animals found in its beautiful habitat.

For the habitat here is beautiful indeed. There is a grace, a subtle stateliness, to the sal forests of Kanha. The forest here is tall and cool and at each season glows a different green. In March the pallid green of the sal’s sweet-scented flowers is giving way to the hopeful sharp green of young leaves. The sal forest rings now with the rolling purrs of brown-headed barbets and the strident sci-fi medleys of greater racket-tailed drongos. In the shade of the forest barking deer pick quietly through fallen leaves and inky infant langurs hop clumsily between their mothers and aunts.

As winter dies the common hawk-cuckoos sing, their loud repetitive whistles the ceaseless soundtrack of the Indian summer. Jungle owlets are noisy now too, throatily exclaiming their dissatisfaction to any forest dweller who cares to listen. I’ve often mused that many Indian birds sound angry, disgruntled or miserable. The Indian grey hornbill whines, the roller snarls, the jungle babblers whinge and bicker, and the large cuckooshrike complains in tones of loud self-pity. As for treepies, much of the time they just sound cross.

I though am not cross at all. I love these Indian birds more each time I visit them, as I love the people here too. Kanha Jungle Lodge and its people are steeped in tigers. The lodge is run by my friends Tarun and Dimple Bhati, aided by their charming seven-year-old son Jai, and by a host of friendly, diligent staff. Tarun is the grandson of Kailash Sankhala, the founding director of Project Tiger, and he grew up immersed in the lore of the jungle. Like his excellent drivers, Vinod, Vinay, Pramod and Monu, who are working with us this week, Tarun is a brilliant tiger-tracker and has a wealth of stories to tell about the inhabitants of the jungle.

This morning I have come back from the forest very happy. Avid marshtitters will know that on our pre-tour extension to Tadoba our group had great success with tigers. However, since four new clients arrived for the main tour, we have been having trouble finding them. This morning, at last, the hathi walle found a four-year-old tigress and permission was given by the park for them to take tourists to see her on their elephants. Thus all of my clients saw a beautiful four-year-old tigress superbly this morning. That sounds so good I’m going to say it again: all of my clients saw a tigress from an elephant this morning. My 100% success rate for tiger tours is maintained.

Phew.

This afternoon the cat-watching got better still. In the meadow at Bishanpura we watched a jungle cat picking purposefully through the parched grass. Jackals are similar in size and colour to jungle cats and frequent many of the same habitats but, whereas jackals amble along aimlessly, blundering into whatever mischief they can, the cats look always as though they know precisely where they are going and why. Our lovely cat this afternoon spray-marked his territory and patrolled his golden grassland with care, before crossing the road in front of us and slipping into the sal forest.

Everyone in our group saw a tiger and a jungle cat today. With an oriental scops owl clunking loudly outside, this naturalist heads to bed a happy man.


New today

Birds

430
grey-breasted prinia
Prinia hodgsonii


2012 Totals
Mammals: 54
Birds: 430
Reptiles: 12
Amphibians: 3
Fish: 2

The trouble with tigers


22nd March

A few years ago I wrote an article for the Naturetrek newsletter which began like this:

The trouble with tigers is that it’s only ever the next one that counts. No matter how many tigers you have seen or how cool you pretend to be about seeing another, the moment you enter the forest and hear the throaty alarm bellow of a sambar, telling you that a tiger is near, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your heart beats double time, just as they did for your first tiger. And your second. And your third.

These words are just as true now, many tigers later. For tigers have a power over me, over us, which is hardly equalled in the natural world and still, though I’m ashamed to admit it, every tiger that’s seen near me, but which I miss, pains me a little. This I suspect is something common to all avid tiger-watchers, even those who have seen innumerably more tigers than I have. 

One of the great personalities at Kanha Jungle Lodge is a young man called Vinod. He sits beside me as I write and over the years we’ve spent days sitting beside one another in a jeep in the park, watching the wonders of the jungle. He’s the son of the former head mahout in the Mukki zone of Kanha and is a gifted and brilliantly entertaining driver-naturalist. He grew up watching tigers and has watched tigers professionally since he was but a boy; yet still he’s hungry to see more every day.

This morning a leopard, a tigress and the same tigress’s three cubs were seen by a couple of jeeps from Jungle Lodge, but not by any of my clients. Vinod, I’m delighted to say, is driving and guiding for us and on returning from the jungle having seen no cats himself he was exuberantly excited to hear about this new tiger encounter and to see the video that was taken of the mother and her cubs. Here is a young man who has spent his whole life watching tigers and what does he want to do every day in the future? Simple: watch more tigers.

The trouble with tigers is that it’s only ever the next one that counts.


New in Kanha today

Mammals


hard-ground barasingha
Cervus duvaucelii branderi

Birds

424
grey nightjar
Caprimulgus indicus
425
common hawk-cuckoo
Hieroccocyx varius
426
sulphur-bellied warbler
Phylloscopus griseolus
427
brown-cheeked fulvetta
Alcippe poioicephala
428
Eurasian house martin
Delichon urbicum
429
white-naped woodpecker
Chrysocolaptes festivus

Reptiles

12
oriental rat snake
Ptyas mucosus


2012 Totals
Mammals: 54
Birds: 429
Reptiles: 12
Amphibians: 3
Fish: 2

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Carnivora

19th March

There are days when you head into the forest and you wonder why you bothered. The trees are there and they are as beautiful as ever, but not a bird stirs, not a monkey jumps, not a junglefowl crows and certainly not a tiger prowls. There are days like this when clients put on a brave face and tour leaders bear everyone’s lead-grey disappointment on their shoulders. Yes, there are days like this.

Today was nothing like that; nothing at all. It was astonishing.

Entering the forest we found fresh tracks of a leopard in the unmade road. A short distance further, there he was, padding nonchalantly ahead of us in the blithe cool of early morning. Our leopard, a male, stopped to scent-mark a tree and doing so turned the full stab of his gaze on us. He sprayed again and was lost in a dense stand of bamboo. Moments later he strolled through the long grass beyond and was seen no more. Magnificent.

The F9 female tiger at Katezari was not to be seen, though her family’s tracks were all over the road. In the dry hills above this wetland a chowsingha, a four-horned antelope, peered at us from the safety of the forest’s edge and, after a moment’s look, bounded away. Near here were very fresh tracks and fresh scat of the sloth bear, though the bear itself eluded us.

Abruptly one of our jeeps stopped in the road ahead of us. Here were three Asian wild dogs, flopped lazily in the road and at its edge. These gorgeous, lean animals are, quite unfairly, cast as the vicious red dogs of Kipling’s Jungle Book, the villains who murder Akela the wolf. In truth they are animals of incomparable grace and power who, through their intelligence and social bonds, hunt in packs and are as feared by herbivores as the tiger. Lying in the road and trotting through the grass beside it, waving their feathery tails, they looked far too friendly to be feared and we were thrilled to see them.

Reaching Pandherpauni what should we see but two of our familiar female tiger cubs, one in the road and another pottering through tall grass at its edge. Time and words fail but these peerless cats were a fitting end to our incomparable stay in a wonderful park.

This evening we are in Pench Tiger Reserve, which straddles the border of Maharashtra and Madhya Pradesh in the Seoni Hills, quoted by Kipling as the home of Sher Khan. There were many more creatures in the forest this morning and many along our journey to Pench but all I can name now are those which are new. New for our tour: rhesus macaques along the roadside close to Pench. New for my yearlist: Indian grey hornbills planing through the forest edge on long wings as we arrived.

Tomorrow Pench. Another forest, another dynasty of tigers, and the promise of another adventure.


New today


Mammals


leopard
Panthera pardus fusca
52
chowsingha
Tetraceros quadricornis
53
Asian wild dog
Cuon alpinus

Birds

418
Indian grey hornbill
Ocyceros birostris


2012 Totals

Mammals: 53
Birds: 418
Reptiles: 11
Amphibians: 3
Fish: 2

Felony and felines


16th to 18th March

It is a very contented naturalist who fights off sleep to write these words tonight; contented – to give the game away – because in the past two-and-a-half days my group and I have seen ten tigers, some of them up to three times, in addition to the beautiful dry forest they inhabit and the abundant other animals with whom they share it. Contented too because my laptop and everything else in my little rucksack – passport, insurance documents, money, tour notes, e-tickets and a dozen other essentials – have come back to me after a vagrant interlude.

My bag was filched by David and Maryanne Mills, Naturetrek’s owners, who were leaving Tadoba and India as we arrived at our lodge. To say they filched it is perhaps a little unfair. I put it down on a chair while I checked my clients into their rooms. While my back was turned an over-zealous member of staff loaded my bag into David and Maryanne’s car along with their luggage and the next thing I knew it was heading back to Nagpur without me. It has taken almost three days to return to me and I am feeling thoroughly chuffed to be reunited with its contents.

The real cause of my chuffedness, however, has stripes and claws and the most beautiful face in all animalkind. The tiger-watching in Tadoba these past few days has been surpassingly good, among the best I have ever known. I have no time at all to wax lyrical tonight so I shall summarise whom we have seen and where.

1)    A male known as M6 who was seen very poorly on our first afternoon as he lay in a dry stream in dense vegetation. All the identifiable tigers in Tadoba have rather unromantic codes and few have nicknames. M6 he will have to be.

2)    At least two of three six-month-old cubs belonging to the female known as F9, all of whom are frequenting the Katezari water-hole. I say at least two because, having seen two cubs in dense vegetation on the first day and one on the second, it’s possible we’ve seen all three.

3)    A briefly-seen male on a bamboo-covered slope. This was either M11 or M12, two fairly itinerant adult males who have an unusual truce and can often be seen close to one another.

4)    The wonderful female called F1 and her four eighteen-month-old cubs, all of whom currently wander brazenly around the Pandherpauni water-hole. F1 is the oldest known female in the park and was identified first at around two years of age in 2001. She has three exquisite female cubs and one terribly handsome male. On the first afternoon we saw two female cubs very well, while yesterday one female cub tried but failed to hunt chital in the road just in front of us before scratching her head on a tree and settling for a doze a short distance from our bonnet. This afternoon we saw the whole family of five doing just about everything a family of five tigers can do: resting in long grass, pretending to hunt chital, wallowing, play-fighting in the water, dallying across a road, and sitting down for a snooze in the middle of it. Utterly, utterly wonderful.

5)    This evening as we left the park the immense, badly scarred, twelve-year-old male M8, nicknamed Bokhra or Old Man, whose tracks we had seen early in the morning. He strode across the road just metres from my jeep and slipped into the bamboo forest which soon after exploded with the alarm calls of sambar. This has been a most remarkable spell of tiger-watching.

There have been many other delights too, though I have no time to list them all. Grey junglefowl cocks bustle by the sides of the roads; jungle bush-quail scurry through the stony verges; plum-headed parakeets (my favourite Indian parrot) whizz by giving their dippy, squeaky chweek; orange-headed thrushes hop through fallen leaves around shady water-holes; blue-grey male nilgai stride aristocratically through the scrub at the edge of fields; and a south Indian tree shrew bounces across the road ahead of us, waving its fluffy tawny tail. I wish I could say more but I’m exhausted and tomorrow we have a final safari in Tadoba and a long journey back to Nagpur and on to Pench.

Before we go, great thanks are due to Aditya and Amrut, the owners of our lovely lodge, Tiger Trails, and to all their helpful, kindly staff. Thanks too to their team of drivers, Lahu, Santosh, Javed, Raju and Dhoni, all of whom enter the forest with excitement each day, as though they had never seen the tiger. On one morning of our stay we chose to roam away from where tigers are constantly being seen, to gain a feel for the jungle and for the vastness of the tiger’s domain. On our return from this morning drive, Lahu, itching to get back to his beloved tigers and to share them again with our clients, looked to me with a worried frown and said in Hindi, ‘This afternoon we’ll go and see the tigers, no?’ And so we did, splendidly.

To bed. With an absurdly big smile and little chance of sleeping. In the words of my good friend Harish as we lay down to sleep, ‘Today was good day.’


New creatures from Tadoba and nearby

Mammals

45
sambar
Cervus unicolor
46
southern plains grey langur
Semnopithecus dussumieri
47
gaur
Bos gaurus
48
tiger
Panthera tigris
49
barking deer
Muntiacus muntjak
50
nilgai
Boselaphus tragocamelus
51
south Indian tree shrew
Anathana elliotti

Birds

397
brown rock chat
Cercomela fusca
398
bay-backed shrike
Lanius vittatus
399
rufous-tailed lark
Ammomanes phoenicurus
400
pied bushchat
Saxicola caprata
401
wire-tailed swallow
Hirundo smithii
402
large grey babbler
Turdoides malcolmi
403
chestnut-shouldered petronia
Petronia xanthocollis
404
red spurfowl
Galloperdix spadicea
405
tawny-bellied babbler
Dumetia hyperythra
406
white-eyed buzzard
Butastur teesa
407
plum-headed parakeet
Psittacula cyanocephala
408
black ibis
Pseudibis papillosa
409
orange-headed thrush
Zoothera citrina cyanotus

brown fish owl
Ketupa zeylonensis leschenault
410
Tickell’s blue flycatcher
Cyornis tickelliae
411
jungle owlet
Glaucidium radiatum
412
Indian bushlark
Mirafra erythroptera
413
short-toed eagle
Circaetus gallicus
414
jungle bush-quail
Perdicula asiatica
415
grey junglefowl
Gallus sonneratii
416
greater painted snipe
Rostratula benghalensis
417
white-rumped munia
Lonchura striata

2012 Totals
Mammals: 51
Birds: 417
Reptiles: 11
Amphibians: 3
Fish: 2