The spotting scope is taking ages to set up.
Numb fingers, now encased in two pairs of gloves, twiddle ineffectively at various knobs and levers. When you think the scope is aligned properly, you peer through the eyepiece but all you can see is an expanse of snow. Tiny swirling snowflakes confuse your vision.
Finally I get a fix on the animal which must be at least a mile away. I fine-tune the focus ring, and suddenly the magnified image jumps sharply into focus. It has my complete and undivided attention.
When I pull back from the eyepiece I'm surprised to notice a long-haired youngster standing beside me. Three jeeps have pulled up behind our parked vehicle, on the track linking the high-altitude villages of Kibber and Chicham just off the Spiti valley.
'Can you see it?' he asks.
'Yes! I can see two adult males now. There are others too...'
Before I can complete the sentence he spins around in excitement, and rushes off to the three vehicles. Other youngsters tumble out from the jeeps, and are soon crowding around the scope.
It appears they are a different party from the convoy of jeeps we had encountered earlier in the day. For one, the vehicles are emblazoned with large decals stating 'Mountain Goat Adventures', or similar.
A large gentleman cannot contain his impatience - 'May I have a look?'
'Uh.. OK'.
He bends down to peer through the scope and immediately exclaims aloud - 'Arre, yeh toh barasingha hai' (which translates as - hey, these are swamp deer!)
We are, in fact, observing Ibex (Capra sibirica).
When I later recount the incident to the others of our party they think I'm fibbing about the 'Mountain Goat Adventures' detail. The young adventure-seekers had ironically been able to observe real mountain goats (which is obviously what Ibex are) without realizing the significance. The 'barasingha' comment was rather like spotting penguins in the Sahara desert!
The Ibex are not just mountain goats - they are one of a species of 'Mountain Monarchs'.
Thus named by George B. Schaller in his seminal book - 'Mountain Monarchs: Wild Sheep and Goats of the Himalaya'.
We count 23 individuals in the herd, but there could have been more. Of these, at least 7 are adult males with their wonderful backward-sweeping ridged scimitar horns and characteristic beards. The females are far less bulky with straighter smaller horns.
The Ibex herd is foraging on a steep snow slope above the gorge. They can obviously see the snow leopard feeding on our side, and so they appear relaxed. Their only other natural predator in this habitat is the wolf. But they have confidence in being in the close vicinity of vertical cliffs, knowing that they can quickly escape to these rocky crags without danger of being followed there by any predator.
We watch through binoculars and the scope as they graze on the scanty vegetation (mainly shrubs and grass). At times they dig through the snow, exposing roots to feed on. It hardly seems possible that the Ibex can get adequate nourishment in this hostile terrain, but in fact they are superbly adapted to this habitat.
Evening is approaching, so with some reluctance we must head back to Kaza and to our home-stay for the night....
The other species of 'Mountain Monarchs' that we have encountered on the trip are Bharal or Blue Sheep (Pseudois nayaur).
Just a day earlier, while driving up the Spiti valley from Nako to Kaza we were lucky to see two different herds from the road.
The first herd gave themselves away by the stones that were being dislodged as they clambered up a crumbling ridge that towered above the road. We were alerted by the intermittent pattering of pebbles as we slowed to peer up at the crest of the ridge. Several bharal were visible on the knife-like arete. But it would have been far too dangerous to stop here - at any moment a large stone or even a boulder could come shooting down.
To our great delight, just a few miles further on, another herd of bharal crossed the road a mere hundred yards from the vehicle. There were 10 individuals - a solitary male and his harem.
The wide Spiti river valley and the relatively gentle terrain allowed us to disembark unhurriedly and to observe and photograph the bharal without spooking them.
After reading an earlier post some folks have asked why I couldn't bear to look at the old snow leopard again. And I actually didn't, in the half-hour we were there.
Why the instinctive reaction - to have looked away as soon as I had taken a few photographs?
Could the reason have been that we were surrounded by a noisy group of people, within cellphone camera range of the snow leopard? Indeed, such a tableaux may be relatively common in our tiger sanctuaries. But here, surrounded by the vastness of snow and rock, it was an incongruity.
Or perhaps we subconsciously carry an image of such iconic species in the mind's eye - of their physical beauty, their grace, indeed just their 'wildness'?
These supremely shy big cats have evolved over millions of years in such hostile environs . Over generations, natural selection has ensured that their genetic make-up has favoured particular fitness and survival attributes that allow this apex predator of the Trans-Himalaya to survive in a world of snow and ice and rock. Indeed, to thrive at altitudes above 3700 M, and in temperatures often falling -20 C and below. Evolutionary instincts that have given them the stealth and cunning and strength to hunt the 'mountain monarchs' in this forbidding landscape.
But to come back to our 'Old Beast'. We know he is a very old male from his appearance and from the manner in which he feeds on the frozen carcass. Some may even suggest that he would soon be retiring to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I rest my case. RIP.
Next up is a report on the birds we saw, and a lovely sighting of a red fox...
sahdevsingh2004@yahoo.co.in
Numb fingers, now encased in two pairs of gloves, twiddle ineffectively at various knobs and levers. When you think the scope is aligned properly, you peer through the eyepiece but all you can see is an expanse of snow. Tiny swirling snowflakes confuse your vision.
Finally I get a fix on the animal which must be at least a mile away. I fine-tune the focus ring, and suddenly the magnified image jumps sharply into focus. It has my complete and undivided attention.
When I pull back from the eyepiece I'm surprised to notice a long-haired youngster standing beside me. Three jeeps have pulled up behind our parked vehicle, on the track linking the high-altitude villages of Kibber and Chicham just off the Spiti valley.
'Can you see it?' he asks.
'Yes! I can see two adult males now. There are others too...'
Before I can complete the sentence he spins around in excitement, and rushes off to the three vehicles. Other youngsters tumble out from the jeeps, and are soon crowding around the scope.
It appears they are a different party from the convoy of jeeps we had encountered earlier in the day. For one, the vehicles are emblazoned with large decals stating 'Mountain Goat Adventures', or similar.
A large gentleman cannot contain his impatience - 'May I have a look?'
'Uh.. OK'.
He bends down to peer through the scope and immediately exclaims aloud - 'Arre, yeh toh barasingha hai' (which translates as - hey, these are swamp deer!)
We are, in fact, observing Ibex (Capra sibirica).
For some reason, and a puzzle to me at this particular moment, the whole group of strangers now looks immediately deflated. A couple of them take a cursory look at the Ibex through the scope, the others start to drift away.
The first young man now asks me - ' Do you know where the snow leopard is?'
Now with just a hint of reproach, 'I told them you were looking at two snow leopards - and that there were more' !!
I have to inform him politely that the snow leopard we had all been observing minutes earlier is farther back, below the track on our side of the hill.
The track here is too narrow to turn the jeeps around, so they reverse in much haste, the snow-covered surface causing one vehicle to lose traction and slide dangerously close to the edge, a shouted imprecation by one of the passengers at the errant driver is their departing memory...
When I later recount the incident to the others of our party they think I'm fibbing about the 'Mountain Goat Adventures' detail. The young adventure-seekers had ironically been able to observe real mountain goats (which is obviously what Ibex are) without realizing the significance. The 'barasingha' comment was rather like spotting penguins in the Sahara desert!
The Ibex are not just mountain goats - they are one of a species of 'Mountain Monarchs'.
Thus named by George B. Schaller in his seminal book - 'Mountain Monarchs: Wild Sheep and Goats of the Himalaya'.
We count 23 individuals in the herd, but there could have been more. Of these, at least 7 are adult males with their wonderful backward-sweeping ridged scimitar horns and characteristic beards. The females are far less bulky with straighter smaller horns.
The Ibex herd is foraging on a steep snow slope above the gorge. They can obviously see the snow leopard feeding on our side, and so they appear relaxed. Their only other natural predator in this habitat is the wolf. But they have confidence in being in the close vicinity of vertical cliffs, knowing that they can quickly escape to these rocky crags without danger of being followed there by any predator.
We watch through binoculars and the scope as they graze on the scanty vegetation (mainly shrubs and grass). At times they dig through the snow, exposing roots to feed on. It hardly seems possible that the Ibex can get adequate nourishment in this hostile terrain, but in fact they are superbly adapted to this habitat.
Evening is approaching, so with some reluctance we must head back to Kaza and to our home-stay for the night....
The other species of 'Mountain Monarchs' that we have encountered on the trip are Bharal or Blue Sheep (Pseudois nayaur).
Just a day earlier, while driving up the Spiti valley from Nako to Kaza we were lucky to see two different herds from the road.
The first herd gave themselves away by the stones that were being dislodged as they clambered up a crumbling ridge that towered above the road. We were alerted by the intermittent pattering of pebbles as we slowed to peer up at the crest of the ridge. Several bharal were visible on the knife-like arete. But it would have been far too dangerous to stop here - at any moment a large stone or even a boulder could come shooting down.
To our great delight, just a few miles further on, another herd of bharal crossed the road a mere hundred yards from the vehicle. There were 10 individuals - a solitary male and his harem.
The wide Spiti river valley and the relatively gentle terrain allowed us to disembark unhurriedly and to observe and photograph the bharal without spooking them.
Why the instinctive reaction - to have looked away as soon as I had taken a few photographs?
Could the reason have been that we were surrounded by a noisy group of people, within cellphone camera range of the snow leopard? Indeed, such a tableaux may be relatively common in our tiger sanctuaries. But here, surrounded by the vastness of snow and rock, it was an incongruity.
These supremely shy big cats have evolved over millions of years in such hostile environs . Over generations, natural selection has ensured that their genetic make-up has favoured particular fitness and survival attributes that allow this apex predator of the Trans-Himalaya to survive in a world of snow and ice and rock. Indeed, to thrive at altitudes above 3700 M, and in temperatures often falling -20 C and below. Evolutionary instincts that have given them the stealth and cunning and strength to hunt the 'mountain monarchs' in this forbidding landscape.
But to come back to our 'Old Beast'. We know he is a very old male from his appearance and from the manner in which he feeds on the frozen carcass. Some may even suggest that he would soon be retiring to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I rest my case. RIP.
sahdevsingh2004@yahoo.co.in
Monarchs they are. Wonderful seeing them through the scope.
ReplyDeletePity the "Mountain Goat Adventures" Gang.
Ibexes are fascinating and only speaks volumes about snow leopards ability to hunt them in that terrain. "Barasingha" moment happens to almost all of us, specially in national parks.
ReplyDelete'Barasingha' indeed :-D
ReplyDeleteA captivating read Sir. thanks for sharing.
Very well narrated, one would have imagined that the 'Under goat adventure's crowd would generally give a place like Spiti a miss...but then no place is too remote or far away for such people nowadays I guess! Lovely sighting. When trekking into the Kibber national park, had woken up early morning and walking out for ablutions, had seen the fresh footprints of a red fox. Your narrative reminded me of the moment and unfinished business 😊
ReplyDelete