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naturetrail
A RIVER
RUNS
THROUGH IT
ANANDA BANERJEE sails on the Kabini River in
Karnataka that cuts the Bandipur and Nagarhole
national parks into two and finds tigers, leopards,
elephants and birds living in harmony
PHOTOS: ANANDA BANERJEE

The Kabini simmers in the orange glow of the
afternoon sun as our boat cruises along,
negotiating the myriad dead wooden stumps
that snake above the water level. These are
mostly remains of the once mighty trees
submerged by the waters of the dam. As the river ripples
like a melting golden dragon, birds skin over it on the way
back to their roost. This is one wild country that JMW
Turner would have loved to paint. And for me, it’s a neverending
adventure trail that encompasses both Bandipur
and Nagarhole national parks.
Located southwest of Bengaluru, Kabini is a tributary
of the Cauvery. Its still waters meander through the
national parks separating the two. A few resorts situated
along its backwaters give enthusiasts an opportunity to
luxuriate in Nature’s bounty.
We navigate along the shoreline, often startling the
birds who lazily sit along the shores, their beaks
submerged in the water as they try to spot their prey.
Water birds here range from ducks, herons, storks, egrets,
terns, darters and cormorants. An osprey dives at the
farthest end and within seconds comes out with a fish
weighing around 300 gm. It’s smooth and fast but gives
me enough time to capture its fleeting glimpse in my
camera.
Though it has a healthy population of wildlife, the park
is a destination famous for Asian elephants. Vikram
Nanjappa, the chief naturalist at Orange County, who has
been documenting the natural history of Kabini for a
decade, tells me that the jumbo count goes higher as the
water recedes during summer. The single largest
congregation of elephas maximus is believed to be here.
During our two-and-a-half hour boat tour, Vikram, along
with his colleague Venkat, shows me at least 14 different
groups numbering three to 15. We spot a family of five, led
by the bull, walking in for a dip. The calves forage on the
bamboo and kick at the grass to pull the roots and bulbs
out of the ground. We switch off the boat engine to cut off
all noise and watch silently as the matriarch leads her
family to the water. After drinking and playfully spraying
around, the ritualistic dust bath begins in full earnest
enveloping the area with a thick hazy blanket. All this while
the elders guard and surround their youngest member like
a phalanx. Not for a single moment do they drop their
guard and as another tourist boat drifts towards the shore,
they make a hasty retreat. This area was once a favoured
staging ground for the Khedda — a method of capturing
wild elephants. A whole herd would be driven into a
stockade by skilled mahouts mounted on tamed
Clockwise from top: Little Cormorants pose on backdrop of
the setting sun, Grey Heron, Wooly-necked Stork with
Painted Storks, Peafowl, Western Reef Egret and India Roller

(Clockwise) Elephants near the waterfront; sambar and spotted deer
elephants. The captured animals were domesticated and
used for transportation and sports.
Though the jumbos steal the show on the water front,
there are also large congregations of spotted deer (axis
axis) who come out similarly to graze along with a handful
of their larger cousins, the sambar. Along with the
elephants, they make a happy picture as we start looking
for signs and alarm calls. This is prime tiger country as well
and many a time, Vikram, Venkat and others have spotted
the stripes crossing over or coming out to quench their
thirst. There are some strategic points where a tigress has
been sighted in recent days and Vikram takes us to a
particular spot to try our luck.
We harbour our boat in a small channel under the
dense bamboo forest. It is comparatively dark here as only
a few filtered rays of the sun manage to reach the ground.
Sitting on our haunches we wait... wait and wait. Our eyes
and ears are supersensitive to pick up anything, movement
or sound. Could this be our day It is like several of Jim
Corbett’s tales, waiting for a man-eater tigress to show up
in one of the forests in Rudraprayag. The documented
details of his encounter are still fresh in my mind. Luckily
the one we are waiting for does not have much interest in
humans. And this fact is further confirmed when she does
not turn up as the sun begins to dip beyond the horizon.
Vikram decides to call it a day. Even as we get into the
jeep, our eyes are still trained to look between the bushes.
Back at the camp, I slip into my private pool hut.
Nothing sucks away the stress better than a chilled dip.
For dinner, chef Lakshmi Narayana conjures up some
fabulous local delicacies like Sigadi Saaru (prawn curry),
Handi Saaru (pork curry), Majji Gasaare (cucumber in
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The forest road at Nagarhole. (Below) The crocodile and the egret basking in the sun
yogurt) and Halasande Soppina Palya
(spinach) in front of a fantastic dance
performance by the Kuruba tribals. A local
tells me that the dance is dedicated to a
good harvest, marriage and thanksgiving.
Must say, with just two local instruments, a
drum called daol and clarinet called karal,
they put up a great show and compel us to
sway to their rhythms. Before I hit the sack,
the local recounts an old Kuruba saying
that sums up the spirit of the people of this
land. It goes: “The bear and my ancestor
lived feasting on honey. The bear always
left half of the honey for my ancestor. If my
ancestor harvested the honey first, he left
half of it for the bear. Sharing the honey
thus, they lived in the forest for ages.” I was
witness to this spirit of “living in harmony”
when I saw a crocodile basking in the sun
along with an egret earlier in the afternoon.
They both enjoyed their siesta. Wonder if
we city-breds can pick up a few tips from
the wild. Needless to say, I sleep like a log.
Vineeth, another senior naturalist,
comes to pick me up for the morning safari
inside Nagarhole. This time I decide to
venture inside the forest. I had met Vineeth
the previous evening where he showed me
his photographs taken a day before. It was
his best ever sighting, two leopards and
one tiger in a single frame. With the
photograph in my hand, my hopes soar
high. This could well be my day... but being
a frequent wildlife traveller, I know how one
should never have any expectations on
sightings and should just be one with the
forest. But such stories accompanied by
visual evidence induce a certain greed
which overpowers you sometimes.
We set off sharp at 6 am. The day
begins well as Vineeth shows me a bird
which I had been looking for, for a long
time. The species in question is the western
reef egret, a coastal bird with two different
plumages, grey and white, and with yellow
feet. Most surprisingly, a single bird has
flown inland and made Kabini its temporary
home. It is sitting on a stump on the shore
line just next to the camp boundary
sporting a unique morph of grey and white
rarely seen and photographed. It’s a lifer, (in
birding terms) a species seen for the very
first time.
After traversing through the village, we
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naturetrail
The full moon rises over the resort
finally enter the main gate of the Reserve that reads “Rajiv
Gandhi National Park” and soon enough find ourselves
bouncing and bobbing vigorously on its bumpy tracks.
Nagarhole or Rajiv Gandhi National Park is spread over a
lush 640 sq km area but only a very small part of this vast
jungle is open to tourists. In stark contrast to the concrete
jungles that our cities are turning into, this one is an
absolutely stunner. Tall trees, isolated jungle ponds,
suddenly appearing and then disappearing backwaters,
rustling leaves and creaking branches, cooing birds and
animal calls, along with the brilliant rays of the sun lighting
the forest, after getting filtered through the dense foliage,
give it a pristine touch.
First we cross the water body to the Nagarhole side,
entering the park perimeter through the Sunkadakatte. By
seven, Vineeth and I reach the exact location where a
couple of days back the great drama had unfolded.
Expectedly, the spot wears a desolate look with the red
dirt road cutting through the dry and moist deciduous
forest. An Indian roller is perched on a bare tree bark, with
eyes focussed on its prey. It graciously flies down, flapping
its wings to gain speed and sways away with an insect.
More elephants cross our path but there are no alarm calls
and the forest remains silent. The peacefully grazing deer
and the playful Hanuman langurs are indication enough
that there has been no predator movement lately.
But who knows
We continue our vigil because if and when the big
beast comes, we will not have time to react. We
barely go 200 metres ahead when Vineeth gets excited
and asks the driver to stop. He has spotted a leopard. It is
sitting a few hundred metres away from us, unseen to the
untrained eye. It is his tail that gives him away. We crane
our necks to look between the tree trunks but still cannot
see his full figure. The moment we turn our heads,
we miss him. It takes another 30 seconds of
concentration to figure out where he is seated. Just then
the deadly cat rises, probably annoyed at being disturbed
from its siesta. Our driver slowly reverses the jeep to avoid
distracting the cat. It walks right in front of us. Stretches
out, yawns, displaying its sharp carnivorous jaws and
walks towards the pond to quench its thirst. This is
instant gratification. But we are not surprised. For this
what Kabini stands for.
o
Air India has daily flights to Bengaluru
from all metros.
By Rail: The nearest railhead is
Nanjangud, 55 km away followed by the Mysore station at a distance of
80 km.
By Road: It takes about five to six hours drive from Bengaluru via
Mysore to Kabini.
Where to stay: Orange County. Tel: +91 (0)80 4191 1100 / 70 / 71
www.orangecounty.in
namaskaar 54 april 2010