by Aline Dobbie
Ranthambore Fort was built in 944 AD and its huge walls measure several kilometres in circumference. It is a magical place for watching bird life and occasionally one may catch a glimpse of a leopard. One is allowed to visit in the middle of the day between game viewing drives that take place in the very early morning and afternoon. There is a temple dedicated to Ganesh and the area is covered in old water tanks (artificial lakes), chhatris (mausoleums), palaces and mosques. There are so many historic architectural and natural points that I could mention but this is not a guide book. In normal times with good rains, Rajbagh Lake is lovely. Biannually, in October and May, the lake is densely covered with beautiful lotus flowers and attendant lotus-eaters. This area of the park has the highest density of sambhar deer and marsh crocodiles. During the monsoon, these crocodiles lay their eggs in holes in the banks of the backwater pools of the lake and scores of newly-hatched crocodiles can be seen in the pools. We saw two crested serpent eagles and Rajbagh also has other birds of prey, such as the grey-headed fish eagle, the osprey, the crested hawk eagle and the brown fish owl.
The tiger, Pantheris tigris, has the following subspecies: Bengal, Siberian, South China, Sumatran and Indo-Chinese; the Caspian, Javan and Bali subspecies are extinct. A full grown tiger can be between 1.9 and 3.3 m from the nose to the tip of the tail. In ideal conditions, its life span is 15 to 18 years. The gestation period is 98 to 108 days and the tiger litter may be between 1 and 4 cubs in the wild.
In the early morning light (I would have liked to be even earlier) with the sun still coming up, there was still some coolness in the air. I looked around and thought how wonderful Rajbagh must be when rain washed and green as seen in so many excellent films, but now the lake beds were cracked by the recent summer’s searing heat and drought and, where cool green water should have been, there were minute amounts of water at which the animals congregated. Tigers go very early in the morning to drink and their tracks were clearly evident along the roadway.
On that first trip, we saw scores of spotted chital deer, sambhar, nilgai, boar, some chinkara (Indian gazelle), monkeys, mongoose, owls, parakeets, tree pies, shrikes, vultures, kites, painted storks, pelicans, kingfishers, drongo, partridge, peacocks in flocks, bulbuls, bee-eaters and flycatchers, but the drive was nearing its end and we had not had the good fortune to see tiger. All the while, Rakesh and the other naturalist were scanning the undergrowth for tigers. Suddenly they pointed and we stopped.
Unbelievable, quite stunning and breathtaking, there were four tigers! They were all lying around, satiated and somnolent after feeding. We had been told that on the previous day the tigress had killed a sambhar so they would have had enough food for a day or two. The cubs were huge, about eleven months old and already magnificent. The mother tigress rolled over and lay on her back with her hind legs in the air displaying her stomach in a languid way, like a domestic cat. This was totally spellbinding for us all. Everyone was so excited and pleased with huge grins on their faces. Photography was not that easy with the excellent camouflage but we were just content to watch them sleeping or dozing with quick breathing or panting to cool themselves. It was for me a culmination of a dream and I just felt hugely privileged to be able to watch these wonderful animals. Graham felt exactly the same and I defy anyone to be blasé about such an experience. No-one I met was left unmoved. Through binoculars, I looked at the tigress and she opened her eyes just then and it seemed I was looking into her wonderful, round yellow eyes – quite unbelievably moving. Suddenly, one of the cubs decided to move and walk about as if to show himself – that made the others move and thus provided superb photo opportunities. We continued to feast our eyes on the tiger family which were approximately 13 metres away from us. At last, we reluctantly drove away and back to Tiger Moon for breakfast. There was a general air of elation and the naturalists were so pleased. The whole experience was of great interest but the tigers were the ultimate focus. Everything we saw was special, the sight of two chital stags fighting it out quite close to us, wild boar covering themselves in mud on the banks of the reduced lake, weaver birds in the palm trees, everything, but when one has seen the tiger, Oh! That is on a different level and those visual memories will live with me forever.
Tiger on the move – Ranthambhore
Tigers at rest – Ranthambhore
Chital Stag – Ranthambhore
Till the late 1980s, the tigers became more and more diurnal and the area became one of the finest in the world to see wild tigers. Then, in the 1990s, it was discovered that poaching was taking place and a poacher was caught with a tiger and a leopard skin. It is now thought that poaching gangs reduced Ranthambhore’s tiger population by half. In the next few years, the alarm went up all over India and the complacency that had descended was shattered with the ugly truth that once again the tiger was a target for poachers selling their bones to the Chinese and the whole tiger population was under threat. The evil reality was that some wardens had colluded with this dreadful trade which also involved Tibetan traders; there are those in that supposedly saintly little nation that have little in common with their religious head the Dalai Lama. It is only in the last few years and the new millennium that tiger numbers are on the increase again because of vigilance and excellent field management. I am hoping that now that the Chinese government is co-operating with efforts to help save the South China Tiger (the South China Tiger will hopefully be the symbol for the Chinese Olympics) and the possible breeding in South Africa of these magnificent beasts, with hopefully subsequent translocation to China, that people in China will become aware of the futility of using animal bones for their cure-all medicines and the tiger’s supposedly magical properties. Only vigilance and education combined with stringent punishments with hefty fines can possibly remedy this problem. Education and demonstrating to ordinary forest people and villagers how they can live and co-exist with wildlife is the long-term answer, but they also must benefit tangibly in some sound way and be made to think laterally about their own future. Now people are beginning to talk about reduction of the bovine population of sacred cows, but, whilst the animal is considered to be a sign of wealth and held sacred to the humble peasant, this is a huge challenge. In reality, there are millions of cows just surviving and not achieving a great deal by their lives. India is the largest milk producer in the world and this can be maintained in intensive farms for dairy/sweet mitthai production, but the average peasant farmer in rural Rajasthan has poor quality livestock. Buffaloes, however, have a greater input to the livestock worth of India, not being sacred they are used widely to provide ‘beef’ and of course they also provide milk.
Sambhar Deer – Ranthambhore
Everywhere in the developing world there is a challenge to educate people to have a tolerance of their environment and wildlife, be it Africa, Central and South America, South East Asia, Malaysian and Indonesian Borneo and, indeed Australia. India because of its vast population has the biggest challenge and it requires people of foresight and great integrity in government.
We had a quick but very welcome breakfast that was laid out in buffet style, then a rapid shower and change, which was essential in our opinion because of the dust. Rakesh said the canter was ready and we had indicated that we wanted to go round the fort at midday. Others had heard us make the arrangements and wanted to come too. It was fun and the fort was very interesting.
The fort was conquered by Ala-ud-din Khalji’s army in 1031, and Akbar in 1569 but, for most of its existence, Ranthambhore has been under the control of Rajput dynasties. I found looking up at the skyline in the sunset or dawn light there was an ethereal quality to the ramparts and, then, on the second morning there, quite clearly silhouetted against the pale blue light of the dawn was a leopard, just looking down at us in silence. Quite magical!
Ranthambhore has one or two serious disadvantages with which it has to live as a wildlife park. Religious tourism or pilgrimage (after all, in the western world it is now realised that the Christian pilgrimage
s of the Middle Ages were in fact the first form of tourism) occurs every Wednesday and on the 4th day of the new moon every month. This results in tens of thousands of people entering the park each month. They come on foot and walk right around the circumference of the Ranthambhore fortress since this journey is their sacred pilgrimage to the temple of Lord Ganesh. Every September at the annual Ganesh festival one million people enter the park over two days. After a successful monsoon when the park’s grassy areas are lush and green, the displaced villagers try to sneak in with their livestock for grazing. This of course has the inevitable consequence of some livestock being killed by tiger or leopard, for which compensation is demanded and given. Had the displaced villagers been adequately compensated for the removal and properly educated, or indoctrinated might be a better term, this annual dilemma might not occur. Sadly, in India as with so many things, events are mismanaged and developments lurch along in a half-baked way because of a lack of commitment.
For us from the West, so much of what we see and hear is frustrating and depressing and alien, like the monthly human invasion of a wildlife park, but that is the essence of India, that ancient customs and holy rites have to be respected and endured and allowed to co-exist with today’s endeavour to maintain a wild but protected environment for endangered animals.
CHAPTER
FIVE
More Tigers and
Some Simple Fun!
In the afternoon, we returned to the Park and saw everything but tiger, leopard or bear. A huge eagle close to us was a delight. The afternoon light is particularly nice and the warmth of the breeze was welcome in the open vehicles. Ranthambhore is popular and that is a very good thing in that it educates the people of India but the hustle and bustle can be a bit vexing; in true Indian style, it is noisy and inefficient and time-consuming. The naturalists do their best but even they become vexed with their Indian brethren.
Some Australians were annoyed because they felt they had been slightly short-changed in that they had booked a jeep but ended up in a canter; seeing the tigers, however, compensated fully, but Ranthambhore does need to address the problem of jeep quotas. The next morning, I awoke feeling very rough with a cold, Graham had one too so I imagine the flight out was to blame. We were glad we both felt the same way because we could feel miserable together which is better than one after the other; there is nothing worse than the person who has recovered returning to their normal ‘chirpy’ self whilst the other is now feeling half dead!
Rakesh sought me out and said urgently in Hindi that we should be ready to go; I was surprised as it was much earlier than the previous morning and seemed suspiciously efficient. I looked at the canters; one appeared full of women and the other totally empty. I looked Rakesh in the eye and said which one are you going in, and he just moved his eyes to the full one. I murmured that it was full and he said under his breath go in the front, there are two seats for you and sahib. Sweet thoughtful man, he stood the whole way. What a ride. We had hardly arrived in the park when we stopped urgently and Rakesh showed us the leopard moving on the top of the escarpment. It was stunning, the leopard cannot be mistaken for anything else – it is the way he holds his thick tail. Oh! It was so thrilling but did not last for long – the animal was about 400 to 500 metres away.
The drive was enjoyable, it always is at the start of a new day, a cold breeze and the light blue sky turning to pale gold as the sun rises. The noises of the various animals and birdsong, alarms from deer, the shrill of the peacock, the bell of a sambhar all contribute to a sense of anticipation and quiet enjoyment. Rakesh and the driver seemed to be concentrating on a particular area and had been tipped off that the tigress and her cubs had been seen drinking at a nearby pool. Their tenacity was rewarded.
Two cubs lying together could be seen about 20 metres away, but then they moved and came towards us. Well, it was astounding, one moved and sat so that without moving my head, just my eyes, I could see two tigers, one to the left and one to the right. We all just looked at them in hushed admiration. Then, the right hand tiger obviously thought to himself ‘I had better humour these folk’ and came towards us and veered to the right of the canter and threw himself down in the dusty road, just like our little Raju does in front of the fire. He gazed at us and then lay down completely. This lasted for a little while but boredom set in and he raised himself and looked at us or changed his position – he posed, there is no other word for it. All of us were so excited and happy; complete strangers, the female party were a group from Singapore made up of different nationalities who were only there for the one night and then going on to the Golden Triangle, but their elation led to friendly exchanges between us. I observed that a great deal of trouble had been taken to ensure to the best of the naturalists’ ability that this group saw tiger, I have no idea what happened to the other guests and, at breakfast, I saw Indian guests, who had obviously not been out to the park, paying a lot of attention to their food. One wondered why they bothered to come at all. Ranthambhore is not on the way to somewhere, it does require special effort to visit it. I am so glad we did.
We were due to leave after breakfast. I had decided that I wanted to investigate another medium class hotel so that I could write about more than one experience. So, after breakfast and a shower, we said our farewells to the management. I explained that I wanted to do whatever I could to help promote and protect India’s wildlife, and I made some suggestions to ensure guest satisfaction which were well received. Rakesh came to talk to me and it turned out that he is a Jat, and that his brother is serving in the army with the Jat Regiment, the same regiment as my late father, Frank Rose, was in, a wonderful coincidence. I have had a great loyalty to that regiment from infancy. In fact, I told Rakesh that on November 20th I would be a special guest of the Regiment along with Graham as I had been invited to present my book, India: The Peacock’s Call, to them at their Annual Raising Day Reunion.
Raj, one of the management team, and Rakesh drove us in a jeep into Sawai Madhopur and delivered us to the Ranthambhore Regency Hotel. Ravendra Jain who owns the Regency and his staff made us very welcome. It too tries hard and provides good service and very good food. The gardens are pleasant with a swimming pool and one can live in the garden cottages or within the main building.
That afternoon, we joined a party of Indians who had hired a canter to take them to a local dam for an outing. This was an interesting experience because of the drive through the town and then on to the open road until we arrived at this rather charming artificial lake, which, because of the drought, was much reduced in size and, therefore, the fishermen in their boats were having great success. Watching yet another great sunset sitting on the dam wall with a slight breeze one was again reminded how pleasant truly rural India is – away from the inevitable squalor of the towns.
The Indian families were obviously all close friends and had come on a Diwali holiday together. It was lovely to see the interaction between them and, now that we had all been together for a little while, they wanted to talk and pressed us to accept some of their ‘picnic’ – we did not but only because we were looking forward to supper and, anyway, I am largely wheat-intolerant. On the return journey, it was dark with the new moon of Diwali shining as a slender crescent. The adults decided to sing and shyly started with a song called ‘I love my India’, after which they grew in confidence and sang very well until we reached the hotel. Passing through the town, the locals looked in wonder at this open canter full of singing Indians and two Europeans. A shy but happy interlude for us both, this sort of experience is important to gain an overall picture of modern India.
We had supper on the lawn and, despite feeling rather grim, we appreciated the good food and the Rajasthani musicians and a puppeteer who worked his puppets to the delight of the little ones amongst the guests. It was a family evening with tiny babies and toddlers and gossiping parents. Our colds ensured we departed for an early night.
The next morning, two British women whom we had met b
riefly and exchanged notes with appeared to have had an accident. The one had fallen out of a jeep when it came to a sudden halt and had landed on the concrete road and been concussed. This had not happened inside the park and the fit and healthy companion was by now quite worried, so we tried to help and explain to the hotel management who immediately called a doctor. Thankfully, she made a good recovery and it did not deter them from continuing to Sasan Gir. In fact, they very kindly sent me an account of their time in that fascinating place, home of the Asiatic Lion.
We, however, went out in a canter with a lot of Indians with their young children. We were worried as to how this was going to work but we communicated with them and shyly they responded and were eager to learn and see for themselves, and appreciate the importance of not making an endless chattering noise! This fourth drive for us went on an unfamiliar route and we saw everything but a tiger. You have to look closely and carefully. Suddenly, I spied a little owl sitting in a hole of a tree, then I realised that there was a second owl sitting right next to the first one; the camouflage was so good that it was difficult to spot him until he opened one eye. I murmured ‘Mummy and Daddy owl’ which delighted the little ones who all giggled and repeated it.
