Dear friends, yesterday while I was going through old files stored in an external hard drive, I found this article written more than ten years ago. I do not know whether this will appeal to all but somehow, this piece is close to my heart and I thought of sharing it with you.
-----x-----x-----x-----x-----x-----
In the tiger land - a brief visit to Dholkhand
It is more than one year in
the Academy and still we have not been to Dholkhand. A bit shameful, really.
Hardly 40 km from the IGNFA (Indira Gandhi National Forest Academy, Dehradun)
campus, Dholkhand has a long history of forest administration. When we finally
decide to explore the wilderness of Dholkhand, seven people volunteer for the
endeavor. On 1st of November 2002, we start at 3 p.m. in one jeep and one bike.
Before entering the National
Park, we stop at Dholkhand town for a tea break. Inside the Park, the presence
of Gujjars, the traditional migrant herdsmen, is clearly evident, what with
hundreds of grazing cattle and lopped tress. Mani and Manoj, who are riding
ahead in the bike, spot an Indian Rock Python crossing the road. I get a chance
to click a couple of photos. The reptile is nearly six feet long and hisses in
alarm as it senses our presence. We retreat without wishing to trouble it
further. The FRH is 12 k.m. from the entrance of the Park. Across the rau, at
the horizon, the setting sun is like a fireball. Red and mild, not fiery,
against the dusty forefront. Yonder, on the edges of a small ridge, smoke
emanates from the thatched Gujjar huts.
When we reach the FRH it is
5.30 pm. Built in 1883 and renovated in 1958, this is perhaps the second oldest
FRH I've visited after Kathiyan. Surprisingly and unfortunately, the department
personnel are not aware of our visit. There is no drinking water, no
electricity. Achchelal, the forest guard, who is in charge of the FRH, goes out
to fetch water. There are cane chairs put outside in the verandah, on an
extended circular portion of the floor. We sit and relax, waiting for Achchelal
to return. This place is at an altitude of 475 meters implying that we have
traveled down from Dehradun. A 'namkeen' packet is opened and aimless
discussions begin. Manoj mentions mildly that if everyone remains silent for
sometime, we might hear some animal calls. All of us prick up our ears and
promptly hear the alarm calls of chital and barking deer.
Achchelal returns at 8 pm.
with water in a tractor and with him is Ramsharan, a field assistant working at
the field station of Wildlife Institute of India at Dholkhand. Manoj knows him
and the plan for tomorrow is chalked out. Ramsharan is a true gentleman.
Mild-mannered, soft-spoken and according to Manoj, excellent in field. He
volunteers to prepare dinner and the lady probationers chip in with their
might. I sit in the dining hall and go through the old register of the FRH under
the dim lantern-light. Many well-known persons have visited this place. In
almost every page I find the name of Mr. A J T Johnsingh, the renowned wildlife
biologist. The furniture in the bedrooms and dining hall are old but give that
'period' look! Dinner is simple. Rice, dal, aloo sabji and pickle. But in this wilderness
setting, it tastes wonderful. Post-dinner, we again sit outside hoping to hear
some more alarm calls.
02-11-02
When there is a stream flowing near the place of
your stay in the wild, all the problems of ablution are solved! It feels great
to complete the morning formalities near the stream, looking at the wide-eyed
chitals!! There is a lot of bird activity near the FRH. A big flock of Indian
Pied Hornbills is cackling endlessly. Manoj says that they fall silent once the
sun comes up. Ravi spots two gorals silhouetted against the sunrays atop the
'goral ridge'. One is feeding and the other is standing still near a stunted
bush. We watch them for about five minutes.
It is a bit late when we start after completing
the breakfast at 9 a.m. A snake path winds down behind the FRH before joining
the now almost dry 'Dholkhand rau'. Hardly 100 meters behind the rest house, on
the sandy banks of a small nalla, we find fresh pugmarks of a tiger. "Big
tiger", gasps Ramsharan and measures the dimensions using a tape. It must
have walked along this route yesterday night. "Had we come in a smaller
group, some of us could have sat on this tree and would have definitely seen
this tiger", Manoj quips pointing to a small tree overlooking the stream.
Further ahead, along the rau, we find more tiger pugmarks. The sand bed is
awash with the footprints of other mammals, mainly chital and less frequently,
sambar, porcupine and jackal.
A small bridge is being constructed across the
Dholkhand Rau. It would help in more connectivity for the forest department
personnel, further destroying this already fragile habitat. Noise of stone
crushing, movement of tractor, chatting labourers, smell of burning bidis. No wonder
we do not spot even chitals all through our walk along the rau. On a small
ridge, just above a salt lick, 40-50 langurs are resting. The rau ends and we
take a turn to the right towards the base of Goral ridge. As we approach a
small patch of Crotalaria plants at
the base, suddenly a swarm of butterflies flies off. Glassy tigers, striped
tigers, common crows and emigrants. Since we are already late, I don't have time
to wait and photograph. I can click on our way back.
There is a big Banyan tree near the base of the
Goral ridge, with thick prop roots. Manoj opines that if we can spend some time
sitting on this tree in the late evening or early morning, it would be
rewarding in terms of sightings of wildlife. The initial stretch is grassy and
a bit slippery. But the climb is not tough. Ramsharan walks ahead with the gait
of a goral along the narrow path atop the rising ridge. Padma needs a helping
hand here and there but manages admirably. Geetanjali, as usual, is the last
person, ambling along enjoying the views on either side of her. Suddenly we
hear the loud alarm calls of a sambar. Lo, there! Right below us to the left
side of the ridge, on a small open patch of the forest, a hind is standing. She
must have seen us and hence the alarm. After a couple of seconds she turns and
bolts.
We
reach the top at 11.45 a.m. From a height of 715 m from the MSL, the peak gives
a panoramic view of the area around. There is nothing much to see here and
after relaxing for half an hour, we start back. Walking down is always trickier
than climbing up. At some places we are forced to crawl. Still, it is an easy
walk. Near the rau, I don't forget to take the photos of the butterflies. Along
the way, the sour taste of Zizyphus and Carissa fruits does not
desist us from devouring them. We reach the FRH at exactly 1 p.m. Lunch is
ready. New cook who has come from a nearby village has done a good job. Dal and
sabji are delicious. No mood to go out after a sumptuous meal. Most of us
resort to the best possible course of action-a siesta!
The evening walk to the watchtower overlooking the
rau proves fruitless. Mani and I go to a nearby area and hide below the
drooping braches of a tree overlooking the stream, hoping to get some good snaps.
Not even the spotted deer are interested! We return to the watchtower after a
40-minute vigil. On the way back, Mani spots leopard pugmarks on the wet sand
bed. Disappointed at our unproductive evening venture, we tread to the FRH.
Amla fruits are ripe and inviting. The sweet taste of water after you eat amla
fruits always makes me nostalgic! Later, after the sun has completely gone
down, sitting silently near a streamlet, we watch a sambar approaching
gingerly. It walks off at the same pace after drinking water.
3-12-02
Breakfast can wait. Not willing to repeat the
mistake of yesterday, we start early, at 7.30 a.m. Ramsharan has decided that
it would be more rewarding if we walk along the Sambavali rau, which runs in
the opposite direction from our yesterday's walk. There are plenty of tiger
pugmarks on the sand bed. There is fresh dung of elephants all along. A herd
must have passed by a few hours before. Even after walking for half an hour,
elephants are still elusive.
Ramsharan decided that the best way to sight
elephants is to follow their track. And it works. Through the binoculars,
Ramsharan spots a lone elephant slowly feeding on a ridge top, about 200 meters
in front of us. Its face is not visible and we are not sure how many more could
be there. Manoj, Ramsharan and myself volunteer to find out. Our guide knows
that we have to be extremely careful while approaching elephants. A lesson he
has learnt that hard way! Again we follow their tracks. Ramsharan asks us to
stay put about 30 meters behind the elephants and moves ahead to investigate.
As we watch, he silently proceeds very close to the feeding elephants and
signals us to go closer. There are three, which we can see. One of them is a
tusker. Some more must be feeding down the ridge. For the first time I am
watching the elephants from such close quarters. Later, Ramsharan walks down to
bring the rest of the group. I dare to get a bit closer. There! A small calf
walks in front of the feeding elephants. I wonder whether the pachyderms are
really oblivious to our presence or they are just not bothered since we are not
disturbing them. But after a while the tusker stops feeding and stands still. A
female, which is standing hardly ten meters away from the tusker, has also
stopped feeding. Perhaps they have taken note of our intrusion. We decide not
to trouble them further and silently withdraw after everybody has got a closer
look.
It has been a satisfying morning walk. Again, on
our way back, we see several fresh tiger pugmarks. Ramsharan spots a goral on
the top of a ridge opposite to us. It is my closest sighting of the goral. I
walk slowly, looking at the golden light falling on the creepers clothing a
ridge wall. Looking ahead, I see all my friends huddled together in a group,
frenetically looking through the binoculars at a bushy patch on the banks of
the rau. Sensing something interesting, I rush towards them. Then I hear a
clear growl. ‘Tiger, tiger’, Manoj whispers. I scan the entire area through the
binoculars, but it is gone! One tigress and two cubs. Ravi saw the tigress and
Raja Mohan could get a glimpse of the cubs.
The king of the jungle has eluded me, again. Even
though I am disheartened, it is a nice feeling to know that still there is a
viable population of tigers here despite the mounting anthropogenic pressures. After
this exciting encounter, all of us feel elated and energized. On a different
route to the FRH, we see broken branches of Rohni trees and fresh piles of
elephant dung. It is 10 a.m. when we reach the rest house.
A walk towards the Ranger's office after the
breakfast proves very productive. Sightings of Blue-bearded Bee Eater, Lesser
Yellownape and Lineated Barbet. We are back in the FRH at lunchtime. No zeal
left to venture into the forest again! After lunch, we wait for the vehicle to
take us back. Susheel, our driver, who is late as usual, says that he saw a
tiger on his way back to Dehradun, after dropping us here. Knowing him, we take his claim with a generous dose of salt. As the jeep winds
through the dusty road cutting across the rau, we spot nilgais and jackals. It
has been a good outing. We have spent only two days here and it has really
whetted our appetite. This is perhaps one of the best places to spot tigers.
Most importantly, what has struck me during this visit is that, despite the
relentless human pressures, the resilience of nature is amazing. It is the duty
of all of us to see to it that the tiger lands like this continue to provide us
an opportunity to be one with the nature, albeit for a fleeting moment.
