Encounter: The Himalayan Marmot

Ladakh's bleak and bare landscape springs to joyous life when these oversized ground squirrels come out to play

Marmot pups engage in some well-earned rough and tumble

As we headed out from Tso Moriri towards the sulphur springs of Puga it was a rendezvous with the Black-necked Crane (Grus nigricollis), or the Tibetan Sarus as the Indian Army men call it, that we were praying for. The landscape was typical Ladakh – bare mountains in soft pastel hues, moist grassy meadows (each with its own spring) and the bluest sky we had ever seen in India. Passing along a rocky meadow beside the road, we spied a hint of movement in the grass and instantly knew what it was. 

Inevitably, push comes to shove

Himalayan Marmots (Marmota himalayana) are both common and plentiful here and we had just sighted a playful family of four pups fattened for the oncoming freeze and the ensuing hibernation. The excess fat did not dent their playfulness, though. We watched as they chased each other in and out of the burrows, across the meadows. They gently sparred and remonstrated, giving us fleeting glances once in a while. Soon enough the mother arrived and for a moment all play ceased as the pups fell over each other as they made for her breasts. Sparring resumed as soon as she left. The marmots' delightful presence added a touch of welcome warmth to this terrain often described as harsh and barren.

Often, things can get just a little bit disagreeable...

Himalayan Marmots are the largest members of the squirrel family and since they are found between 4,000 – 5,000 m (13,100 - 16,400 ft), perhaps the highest dwelling as well. Their body length is close to 60 cm and with the 15 cm tail they are just under a metre long. They live in grassy meadows, steppes and lush edges of rock-strewn slopes in Ladakh, Tibet (where they are called Tibetan Snow Pig) and all the way to Central Asia. They dig burrows and live in close family groups of 10-15 members. Unlike many other rodent species they do not hoard food supplies but burn up body fat while they hibernate.

And fair-play rules may be broken

In his book Birds and Mammals of Ladakh, Otto Pfister describes the marmot burrow, which “…has 2-3 entrances and is used for several decades. It is 20-100 cm long and descends 4-6 m into the ground, ending in large chambers. Nearby, some smaller, shallower shelter burrows are dug to serve as a hiding place in case of danger.”

But along comes Mama

The upper limit of the marmots' habitat corresponds with the edge of the vegetated zone. They have therefore adapted to a diet of grasses and herbs which are readily available in the high-altitude meadows and grasslands. This adaptation for high-altitude living results in their gaining peak weight in October (approx 8-10 kg), just before winter hibernation, during which they can lose up to half of their body weight and their body temperature drops to as low as 5 degrees Celsius. They hibernate for 6-7 months and emerge in the spring after the snow has melted.

And they are one big happy family again

Marmots constitute an important prey species of carnivores such as the Wolf, Lynx, Red Fox, Wild Dog, Snow Leopard and raptors, especially eagles. They are also eaten by the steppe people in Central Asia and were formerly hunted in Ladakh as well (a practice that has declined in recent times).

In his book The Birds of Heaven – Travels with Cranes, Peter Matthiessen, while looking out for the Demoiselle Crane (Anthropoides virgo) on the Daurian Steppe in Mongolia, recalls an incident that undescores the importance of marmots both as a prey species and as possible carriers of plague. 


Matthiessen writes: “Steppe marmots stand upright at their burrows like huge prairie dogs, and a sick one lies beside the track, its fur – gold and ivory in the morning sun – rising and falling with each failing breath. The Mongolians wave me away from it, honking their horns and shouting in great agitation; they indicate that a sick marmot, broadcasting bacilli on its breath, can transmit a deadly pneumonic plague to the human beings.

A steppe fox whisks through the blowing grass, a steppe eagle stoops on a young marmot. The eagle glares on the oncoming vehicles as it tears away red shining threads. Nearly, then, it eviscerates the rodent, leaving the heavy guts behind as it takes wing, dragging the rest away over the grass tips.”

Endangered Black-necked Cranes (Grus nigricollis) in Ladakh

Text and photos by Sahastrarashmi
All rights reserved

From Madurai to Mount Kailas, a pilgrim's puzzling progress

A chance find in a Pondicherry flea market points to an unknown Tamil Nadu pilgrim party's mysterious journey to the base of Mount Kailas in 1948, only two years after Heinrich Harrer arrived in Lhasa

Last Sunday, as I am prone to do on weekends, I paid a visit to the flea shops on the East Coast Road in Pondicherry. These shops, which usually offer a motley collection of old stuff – terracotta figurines, calendars and posters, furniture, French porcelain, old black-and-white photographs, books and the usual bric-à-brac, sometimes throw up a surprise.

Rummaging through an old tin trunk full of dusty faded black-and-white photos I came across an old, slightly faded picture with a mountain in the background. That was surprising enough – 90 percent of the pictures are usually studio portraits of respectable South Indian families, newlyweds, demure housewives and pious Brahmins – but what hooked me was the familiar outline of the peak. From its aspect, it could have been only one mountain -- a huge mass of rock and snow, magnificent in its setting, awe-inspiring and bequeathed with majestic grandeur. It was Mount Kailas (6714 m).

My heart pounded as I dusted the picture and read the text printed on the mount: “Photo taken on 10-7-48 during the pilgrim visit by Sri K. L. N. Janakiram to Holy Mount Kailas.” Four men stood in front of the mountain, three looking away from the camera with the canvas tent visible behind the fourth person. The four pilgrims appear in good shape, proud but with no visible swagger at this achievement, which even in these times when Toyota Land Cruisers race down to within shouting distance of the holy mountain, is a matter of undue vanity and arrogance for quite a few.

To put this in context, the region was still being explored in the late 1930s. A paper written in 1942 by the eminent geologist Darashaw Nosherwan Wadia (after whom the Institute of Himalayan Geology was renamed in 1976), mentions explorations carried on between 1928 and '38 in the Kailas-Manasarovar region as having "raised some doubts regarding Sven Hedin’s conclusions [the Swedish geographer, explorer and writer was the first European to enter the Kailash-Manasarovar region]. Though not a professional geographer, the Swami [Swami Pranavananda, whose book Exploration in Tibet attempted to surmise the sources of the Himalayan rivers] has made a record of most interesting, accurate and painstaking observations of natural features and phenomena which provide valid data on the intricate question of fixing the sources of these rivers”. 

The rivers spoken of are the Indus, Sutlej, Ganges and Brahmaputra. Heinrich Harrer’s fabled escape to Tibet via the Tsang Chok-la Pass (5,896 m) near Badrinath was made only in 1944 (he reached Lhasa on January 15, 1946).

Partly due to its remoteness, but mainly since Tibet was closed to foreigners through much of its history, the chronology of first explorations of this mysterious Himalayan kingdom is as intriguing as the land itself.

While trade between India and Tibet, conducted during the summer months once the high passes were free of snow, has a long history, the first Europeans on record to visit Tibet were probably the Jesuit monks António de Andrade and Manuel Marques from Portugal who arrived in Tibet via the Mana Pass near Badrinath. This was in 1624 during the reign of the Mughal Emperor Jehangir. They set up a short-lived mission in Tibet and their travel accounts were quite popular in Europe where they were translated into all major regional languages.

Between 1893 and 1908, Hedin led three expeditions into Central Asia and Tibet. During his second expedition (1899-1902) he was unable to reach Lhasa, being turned back by the Tibetan army, he exited via Ladakh continuing to to Calcutta via Delhi, Agra and Benaras. During his third expedition (1905-1908), he became the first European to reach and explore the sacred Kailas and Manasarovar region of Tibet. He was also credited with locating the sources of the two greatest rivers of Asia – the Indus and the Brahmaputra (a discovery that was later questioned – he may have found one of the sources).

The British, who were not allowed entry into Tibet, worried that other European powers would beat them to it (the Russians were persevering hard to enter Tibet). They trained and sent several Indians from Johar Valley in Uttarakhand to carry out surveys in Tibet. Between 1865 and 1882, Nain Singh, Mani Singh, Kishen Singh and later Kinthup (from Sikkim), disguised as Ladakhi merchants, undertook several undercover survey missions to Tibet, explored the land (they were trained to cover a fixed 33-inch pace and click a bead after every 100 paces), measured the altitude (by measuring the boiling temperature of water, mercury was hidden in a cowrie shell and the walking stick a makeshift thermometer) and coordinates of Lhasa , surveyed the Manasarovar region, and successfully determined the course of the Sutlej river and the upper course of the Tsangpo.

One gets an idea of how little was known about Tibet despite all these attempts by the fact that until 1912 it was not known if Tsangpo in Tibet was the same river as the Brahmaputra in India. In 1878, Kinthup was specifically sent to Tibet for this reason but despite his valiant efforts this mission met with a tragic end. He was to float 50 specially marked logs a day for 10 days down the Tsangpo. Surveyors were to lie in wait for these logs on the Indian side in Arunachal Pradesh. However, first he was duped and sold as a slave by his fellow-traveller. Then, 18 months later, when he managed to flee his captors on the pretext of a pilgrimage, his letter to his handlers never reached India. He floated the logs and when he finally returned, his hunch that the Tsangpo was indeed the Brahmaputra (he correctly described the river as it rounded the huge peak of Namche Barwa, 7745 m, entering a deep gorge within a short distance of the Indian hills) was met with scepticism. The gorge described by Kinthup is now known as the Yarlung Zangbo Grand Canyon – the world’s deepest canyon where the Brahmaputra cuts through the Eastern Himalayas to enter India.

The north face of Mount Kailas, also spelled Kailash (Photo: Ondřej Žváček/ Wikimedia Commons)

I could learn very little about the routes taken to Kailas during the days of British rule. Several options existed via the Mana pass (5608 m, near Badrinath), Lipulekh (5334 m, the current route), via Leh over the Changtang plateau, from Sikkim via Nathu La (4010 m) and via Bhutan, or from Nepal. I can only guess the route that this party from Tamil Nadu could have taken. But regardless of that, they would have faced lawless bandits, inclement weather and the perils of uncharted routes. It’s a testimony to both their endurance and faith that this journey to the abode of Shiva was a success.

While I feel sorry that the photograph of these four pioneer pilgrims ended up in a flea shop, as someone who is completely taken in by the mystique of the Himalayas, it is a perfect gift. The photograph has finally come home.

Text by Sahastrarashmi 

Main Photo: Unknown

References: Trekking in the Indian Himalaya (Lonely Planet). For pictures of turn-of-the-century Tibet, visit The Tibet Museum