A jaunt across Mudumalai - Trip Report

Our quick, packed trip to Masinagudi and Ooty yielded few lifers, but it gave us plenty of top-quality sightings

We stood at the junction of two worlds in Bangalore City Railway station. The arched stone buildings on Platform 6 were relics of a distant past and across the tracks were the eye-catching coaches of a new-look Shatabdi Express. Arun, Beej and I were headed to Mysore where Sandy was waiting to join us for our trip to Mudumalai, also his last birding trip from his base in Mysore, which he was to leave in two weeks. Sahastra, away in Uttar Pradesh, joined us occasionally in thoughts and conversation.

The long sighting of the Changeable Hawk Eagle was a highlight of our safari

We arrived at Mysore at 3:45 AM and were whisked away in Sandy’s car towards Bandipur. We entered just after the gates opened at 6 AM and were pained to see the noise generated by the trucks plying through the park. Needless to say, the disturbed environment ensured a drive devoid of any sightings save a few chitals inside Bandipur. 

A misty morning at Masinagudi

At Theppekadu, Mudumalai, we embarked on our first safari close to 7:30 AM. As we entered the safari we found a Sambhar lazing in the morning sun; it bolted at the sight of multiple telephoto lenses focused on it. Meandering through the serpentine safari tracks we chanced upon Chitals gilded by the morning sun. Arun and Beej directed our attention to Chitals in the velvet phase of their antlers. Chitals continued to hog the frame for most of the safari that ended with a cameo by a Indian Peacock sunning itself on the trunk of a dead tree.

Indian Peafowl

A baby langur learning to leap

Wanting more we headed out on our second safari, which took us through repulsive patches of lantana shrubs to begin with – not surprisingly, we saw nothing but a Hoopoe (Upupa epops). We started seeing more life as we left the lantana behind; first we came across a troop of frolicking Tufted Gray Langurs (Semnopithecus priam), a pair in the troop was indulging in games of passion. We watched like voyeurs as the langurs went about their pleasures unperturbed.

Hoopoe

Excuse us for intruding into their private life

Our next sighting on the safari was a dress circle view to a performance by the Changeable Hawk Eagle (Nisaetus cirrhatus). We found the eagle on a ground-level perch right in the middle of our safari path. It sat there sipping from a water puddle aloof of the low rumbling sounds from the engine of a gigantic body of metal headed its way. We proceeded gingerly towards the eagle, stopping frequently to observe. The bird held its ground until we were about 15 feet from it. Then it took flight and perched on a branch close to our safari van. An occasional flaunt of the crest, an occasional draw of the nictitating membrane were included in the performance. We moved on towards more chitals and eventually to our dwelling at Masinagudi. 

Changeable Hawk Eagle

Chital Stag with full antlers

At our place of stay we found company in an Intermediate Egret (Mesophoyx intermedia) and a Red Wattled Lapwing (Vanellus indicus), which had taken refuge in a pond nearby. We also found a pair of Small Minivets (Pericrocotus cinnamomeus), which we watched until our lunch was ready. With a satiated appetite and eyes hungry for more we left for the evening leg of our safari. 

Red Wattled Lapwing in flight

We started the evening safari from the Peacock Dormitory side and found a Forest Wagtail (Dendronanthus indicus), a Brown Fish Owl (Bubo zeylonensis), and a cow elephant with a male calf (whose tusks had just begun to appear). The calf made several mock charges – running around in circles, throwing up blades of grass and an occasional grunt. We left leaving the mammoth forest inhabitants to enjoy their peace. As we headed into the last safari of the day, we chanced upon Mr Dayanidhi Maran, the former union telecom minister, in the driver’s seat of an Innova parked by the Mudumalai-Bandipur road. We glanced and moved on; this sighting did not merit a checklist entry.

An agitated male calf

A Brown Fish Owl in its safe haven

After tea at the forest canteen we headed back to Masinagudi. The next morning we left early for Ooty via the Kalatty Ghat, hoping to spot Black-and-Orange Flycatchers and White-bellied Shortwings at the Botanical Gardens. On the way up, we spotted Rufous Treepies (Dendrocitta vagabunda), Brahminy Starlings (Sturnia pagodarum), Indian Peafowl (Pavo cristatus), Redvented Bulbuls (Pycnonotus cafer), Chestnut-headed Bee-Eaters (Merops leschenaulti), Grey Junglefowl (Gallus sonneratii) and Bonnet Macaques (Macaca radiata).

"Click me if you can," teased the Black and Orange Flycatcher

A very hungry caterpillar

After reaching the Botanical Gardens in Ooty we spotted the Black-and-Orange Flycatcher (Ficedula nigrorufa), which dared us to photograph it by frequently hopping around in a hedge. On the way out we spotted a Crested Goshawk (Accipiter trivirgatus) nibbling away at a kill. Oriental White Eyes (Zosterops palpebrosus), Pied Bushchats (Saxicola caprata), and a Pond Heron (Ardeola grayii) all flew in to have their names checked on our list. 

Eyes are white, lovely sight -- An Oriental White-eye

We finished with the Botanical Gardens and headed back to Masinagudi via Pykara. After a quick lunch we sped back to Mysore, making it just in time to catch our bus to Bangalore. With not even enough time to accord Sandy a sentimental farewell on his last birding trip ex-Mysore. But then again, we Ogres have tough layers. Sniff!

Trip List:

1. Grey Junglefowl (Gallus sonneratii) 
2. Indian Robin (Saxicoloides fulicatus) 
3. Laughing Dove (Stigmatopelia senegalensis)
4. Blue Rock Pigeon (Columba livia)
5. Malabar Parakeet (Psittacula columboides)
6. Rose-ringed Parakeet (Psittacula krameri)
7. Vernal Hanging Parrot (Loriculus vernalis)
8. Common Myna (Acridotheres tristis)
9. Jungle Myna (Acridotheres fuscus)
10. Brahminy Kite (Haliastur indus)
11. White-browed Bulbul (Pycnonotus luteolus)
12. Purple Sunbird (Nectarinia asiatica)
13. Purple-rumped Sunbird (Nectarinia zeylanica)
14. Oriental Magpie Robin (Merops leschenaulti) 
15. Intermediate Egret (Mesophoyx intermedia) 
16. Small Minivet (Merops leschenaulti) 
17. Red Wattled Lapwing (Vanellus indicus) 
18. Black and Orange Flycatcher (Ficedula nigrorufa) 
19. Rufous Treepie (Dendrocitta vagabunda) 
20. Ashy Drongo (Dicrurus leucophaeus) 
21. White Bellied Drongo (Dicrurus caerulenscens) 
22. Pond Heron (Ardeola grayii) 
23. Ashy Woodswallow (Artamus fuscus) 
24. Black Headed Ibis (Threskiornis melanocephalus) 
25. Changeable Hawk Eagle (Nisaetus cirrhatus) 
26. Crested Goshawk (Accipiter trivirgatus) 
27. Brown Fish Owl (Bubo zeylonensis) 
28. Blue Faced Malkoha (Phaenicophaeus viridirostris) 
29. Plum Headed Parakeet (Merops leschenaulti) 
30. White Throated Kingfisher (Halcyon smyrnensis) 
31. Chestnut Headed Bee-Eater (Merops leschenaulti) 
32. Hoopoe (Upupa epops) 
33. Indian Peafowl (Pavo cristatus)
34. Jungle Babbler (Turdoides striata) 
35. Forest Wagtail (Dendronanthus indicus) 
36. White Browed Wagtail (Motacilla maderaspatensis) 
37. Grey Wagtail (Motacilla cinerea) 
38. Brahminy Starling (Sturnia pagodarum) 
39. Red Whiskered Bulbul (Merops leschenaulti) 
40. Red Vented Bulbul (Pycnonotus cafer) 
41. Oriental White Eye (Zosterops palpebrosus) 
42. Pied Bushchat (Saxicola caprata) 
43. Spotted Dove (Streptopelia chinensis) 
44. Velvet Fronted Nuthatch (Sitta frontalis) 
45. Pale-billed Flowerpecker (Dicaeum erythrorhynchos)
46. Chestnut-bellied Nuthatch (Sitta cinnamoventris)
47. Hair-crested Drongo (Dicrurus hottentottus)
48. White-breasted Waterhen (Amaurornis phoenicurus)
49. Common Flameback (Dinopium javanense)
50. Brown-capped Pygmy Woodpecker (Dendrocopos nanus)
51. Common Kingfisher (Alcedo atthis)

Text: Anand Yegnaswami
Photos: Arun Menon and Anand Yegnaswami

Hail to the leopard, spirit of the forest

In the presence of two regal cats we watched mesmerised and awestruck. Some of that aura rubbed off on us


I have wandered only a handful of forests. Most wildlife enthusiasts might have traveled more in one year than I have over the last five. So I never complain about not having seen most of our mammals including the nation's heartthrob, the tiger.


But I have always worried about not having met His Highness the Leopard. The jungles I have roamed have plenty of leopards and I have come across ample evidence that pointed towards their activity. In some cases I have missed the beast by a hair's breadth: scores of pug marks, plenty of scat, but no leopard.


While I think of the tiger as a samurai -- bold, always in the limelight and powerful -- I equate the leopard to a ninja -- silent, cunning, unseen and deadly. Maybe I'm getting carried away here so let me cut to the chase and tell you about my first leopard! It's kinda obvious by now that I finally did see one, right?


A few weeks ago I was on safari in Mudumalai (it was in fact the first safari of the trip) along with some like-minded friends. Around 4:45 in the evening we were inside the tourist zone of the park looking at chital and gaur. We were talking in hushed whispers when, suddenly, the watcher who accompanied us called our attention to the other side of the vehicle exclaiming softly, "Leopard, leopard!" 


At the sound of the word the adrenalin rush I felt must have clocked 240 kph. I frantically scanned the area to which he pointed. I was afraid that the cat would slink away into the undergrowth.


Then, through the dense clump of bushes I spied rosettes. The driver inched the vehicle forward. And there it was -- a magnificent leopard bathing in the evening sun!

Half asleep and sunbathing

The scene was magical. The yellowish leopard dozing in orange sun-glow just a few yards away. Unbelievable. Unexpected. Lazing nonchalantly, it lifted its head and aimed a penetrating stare straight at us, or should I say through us!

In the leopard's piercing gaze

With the vehicle now silent, we sat watching and photographing the leopard for more than ten minutes. It regarded us as if to say, "I know you are ogling but I don't care" and continued basking. The cat was relaxed and seemed least bothered by our presence. We were relaxed because the leopard was.


While we gazed mesmerized, we were shaken back to reality by a sound from the other side. The distant roar of a tiger. The leopard looked in the direction of the sound. We took in the magical suspense of the moment: A leopard on one side and a tiger calling from the other. After a few minutes, before we realized it, the leopard melted into the undergrowth.


We moved on and completed the safari. We did not see the tiger that roared. And whatever we saw after the leopard hardly registered any impact. My thoughts had fastened to the glowing rosetted coat I had gazed upon for ten minutes, and its owner. I remembered the words of the veteran wildlife photographer TNA Perumal: "The leopard is like the spirit of the forest." And I had been blessed by it.

The spirit in all its glory

Text and photos: Arun

Encounter: Dhole - the Indian wild dog

Watching one of our most efficient predators in the wild is a treat and a privilege. Most people might be obsessed with cats, but give it up for the Dhole, our very own wild canid

Just after I told my wife how endangered the Indian wild dog or Dhole (Cuon alpinus) was, we saw about ten of them on our first three trips together. Which, naturally, evoked the question: "Are they really endangered? I have seen more wild dogs than tame ones since our marriage..."

Sadly, they are...

At first glance the dhole is very like a dog

When, as a child, I saw the animated version of Kipling's Jungle Book, I grew to hate the dholes (red dogs) because they were enemies of the wolf pack to which the protagonist, Mowgli, belonged. Dholes were portrayed as an evil lot, hunting in packs and taking over the hunting grounds of the wolves.

The tail is a definite giveaway, though...

Since, I have heard a lot about dholes. When Beej first told me about the dhole he encountered (with Arun and Sahastra in BR Hills), I had not yet seen one. Soon, I was rewarded with my first encounter. We were driving through Nagarahole along the Mananthavadi road (although calling it a road would be a joke - rutted and potholed as it is, allowing an average speed of 10 kph along the 30 km drive). Suddenly, a canid crossed our track and Prasanna hissed: "Dhole!" It was a female and it lingered about our car, quite unafraid. Soon it was joined by a male that sat on the road next to the car for quite a while, allowing us a good view. He then joined the female and walked along the road before disappearing into the bushes.

The couple that entertained us at Nagarahole...

After that I have had multiple encounters with dholes, most in the last couple of years. Trips to Bandipur and Mudumalai would yield at least one sighting. But my best sighting was in Upper Bhavani in the Nilgiris. Prasanna, me and our wives were on a casual drive from Ooty when we saw a dhole leap right ahead of us on the road. It had a lustrous orange coat, which looked very fluffy, and a very dark tail. It bounded away, pausing ahead to stop and give us a backward glance and then vanished into the forest.

Contemplating...

Dholes hunt in packs. They are organized hunters and their skills have been well documented by Karnataka-based wildlife filmmakers Krupakar and Senani in their films Wild Dog Diaries and The Pack. Dholes are known to surround and bring down prey as large as the 1.5 ton Gaur, making them one of the most feared predators.

Tearing into a Sambhar (Photo courtesy: Joseph T A)

My friend Joseph TA was the luckiest of our group, having seen a pack of dholes hunt and devour a Sambhar. Generally, dholes are known to abandon their kill when intruded upon by humans, thanks to the old practice of hunters who used to leave the hunting to dholes and scare them off to take the kill.

Enjoying the feast (Photo courtesy Joseph T A)

Sport hunting and retaliatory killing by villagers whose livestock were taken by dholes have driven these canids to the edge. Thankfully, the active efforts of forest departments and NGOs involved in conservation are helping them recuperate.

Text and photos: Sandeep Somasekharan

Dhole hunting photos: Joseph TA (www.josephta.com | www.facebook.com/JTAPhoto)

Mumbai's trash flows from urban jungle to national park

There's a good reason to keep humans out of forests: Trash!

Some people stood here to enjoy the scenery, and left behind evidence of ample enjoyment

At birdsofbombay, Sunjoy Monga posted about a cleanup drive in Sanjay Gandhi National Park. A tireless team comprising schoolchildren and other volunteers recovered a large amount of trash from the national park, which is a virtual ghetto inside the city. 


And guess what most of the trash consisted of? Booze bottles - some half-full, others half-empty. Empty foil packets of wafers and gutkha - that awful-smelling stuff that some people sprinkle into their mouths from an elevation of half a foot. Now, this is must be a truly amazing way to celebrate Wildlife Week, no? 


When the Forest Department wakes up from its stupor, maybe it will give us some sober answers. I've seen this happen in every national park that I have visited - Bandipur, Mudumalai, Nagarahole, Bhadra, Periyar. For most of us urban chameleons, national parks offer a perfect hideaway from the city. But what some people do when they go there is unpardonable. 


Most national parks have effete, unconvincing signboards emblazoned with some weak cliche about saving our forests. Few of them offer the real reasons why you should not travel with stuff that tends to become trash. And if you do, why you should take your trash home. Most forest department workers are not educated about this aspect in the first place, so enforcement is not even on the horizon. 

Was it illiteracy or plain insensitivity that led people to litter below a signboard entreating them not to do so?

I once travelled on a safari in Bandipur with a bunch of engineering college students. One of them was playing music on a Walkman so loud that all of us could hear the screech of the playback singer's sibilants and the thump of jhankaar beats. I'm sure the animals heard him, too, a mile away. And, helped ably by the rattle and trundle of the diesel van that took us on the safari, we saw nothing but jungle fowl and the backside of an elephant. 


At Muthodi, my friends and I came across a group of surly drunks at the Shegekan Guest House. We hoped to stay here in order to have convenient access to the sholas. The Forest Department put us up at the dormitory downhill, denying us permission to stay at the guest house because someone connected to a minister had booked the place. Driving up, we heard the tinkle of bottles even before the guest house came into view. 


And, even as we stood watching Crimson-backed Sunbirds in that horrible garden planted with many exotics including a Christmas Tree, a couple of unsavoury characters argued loudly on the balcony, their beers and rums having gotten the better of them. We grumbled to the caretaker but got nothing except a helpless smile. And steel tumblers of coffee, at our expense. I stepped close to him unwittingly, and - sniff, sniff - my nose discovered the reason for his nonchalance. Booze makes quick friends. And if you have a quarter bottle to spare, rules melt like an ice cube in a glass of neat double malt.