tiger

Amid nature in Camp Corbett, Kaladhungi – Uttrakhand

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very much a bird-watcher’s paradise . Purple sunbirds, orange bee-eaters, humming birds, pintails, wagtails, minivets, flycatchers, jays, bronze green doves, golden orioles, baya weaver birds, hoopoes, woodpeckers, kingfishers, whistling thrushes, drongos, cuckoos and the green coppersmith barbet calling “k-tong ! k-tong ! “ were all out there . A family of transiting langurs were busy shaking trees

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The Waghdoh Male: The largest male tiger in India

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We clicked her at a short distance while she oblivious to the attention she was getting continued with her innocent play.  Then we heard some grunts form the bushes behind her and the cub vanished behind them, probably her mother was hiding in the bushes and called her back. Next visit we saw the mother and cubs again from a short distance and the cub entered the waters to cool down in the April heat while the mother lurked from the bushes behind her.

All this while I was longing to see the ruler of this kingdom, the Wagdoh male who  is considered the largest male tiger in India. Though I wonder who would have dared to go and measure his size or of other tigers to compare them ? When I enquired with Mangesh our guide for all the safaris, if we will get a chance to see the Wagdhoh male he simply said, “Sir, he is the king of this jungle he holds durbar only once in a week, so you can see him only if he wants you to see him”. On further query we learned that the elusive king was last seen almost 8 days ago, so we had a good chance to see him.

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Ranthambore – My Machaan???

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We broomed the place under the tomb with a make shift Jhadoo and sat down; it gave us fantastic view of partly dried lake with deer grazing in the marsh. Amazingly there was no Machaan, to tell you the truth we forgot that it was a must at all the locations. Hours passed and we documented the deer and small carnivorous animals. At sunset, the wind direction changed and I could smell very strong tiger urine as and when the wind blew. It began to worry me a bit due to my experience in jungles watching and spotting tigers; I knew we were in the tiger territory for sure.

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Corbett and I

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it is not possible for those who have never lived in the upper reaches of the Himalayas to have any conception of the stranglehold that superstition has on people who inhabit that sparsely populated region…with us we had fifteen of the keenest and the most cheerful hillmen…one of these men, Bala Singh, a Garhwali, had been with me for years….i noticed that Bala Singh was sitting apart near the camp fire with a blanket over his head and shoulders. After breakfast I walked over to him,….Bala Singh saw me coming and made no attempt to greet me, which was very unusual, and to all my questions he returned the one answer — that he was not ill. That day we did our two-mile march in silence…it was quite apparent that whatever had happened to Bala Singh was affecting the other fourteen men, for they were performing their duties without their usual cheerfulness…after a lot of hedging and evasive answers I eventually got Mothi Singh’s story, which, when it came, was short and direct…’while we were sitting round the camp-fire last night and singing… the demon of Trisul entered Bala Singh’s mouth and he swallowed him

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