research > one fine day in rhino country

A Day in the Life Gitanjali Banerjee

6.00: The jeep splutters and coughs as we slowly negotiate the bumpy dirt track inside Kaziranga National Park. The thick fog reduces the visibility to fewer than 5 meters. A startled herd of Swamp deer blunders across the road, jostling one another. We count 63 individuals in the group that make their way to greener pastures quite literally as they begin grazing on the thick mat of vegetation bordering the misty "beel". The strident calls of the swamp francolins shatter the stillness of the morning. A domineering pair of red jungle fowl struts across the road in the wake of the deer herd. A rhino mother wanders off searching for juicier morsels with her calf sticking close to her side before disappearing into the thick fog. We pray for a safe passage. It would not be pleasant to run into a startled rhino on the path in the dense fog.

6.30: My field assistants and I wait for the animals to emerge from the tall grass in our sampling area. Strong winds make the fallen leaves swirl at our feet in our high perch atop a rickety watchtower. The fog lifts slowly to reveal the hazy Mikir hills and an abundance of feeding animals dotting the vast landscape. The fugitive sun emerges from behind the clouds and lights up the scene. The short grasslands are awash with hog deer, swamp deer, wild buffaloes and an odd rhino or two feeding on the succulent grass. Our day has truly begun as we count the animals, record activity and mark their positions on a habitat map. Their numbers increase as the sun rises on the horizon, the glare making it difficult to distinguish individuals.

8.00: I leave it to my field assistants to continue the observations every ten minutes for the remainder of the day until I get back. They are well trained now and know their work. There are other things on my agenda for the rest of the day. The armed forest guard, an assistant, and I make our way through the seemingly impenetrable thickets of tall grass to the vegetation plots I have marked. The guard is visibly nervous as he holds his rifle in readiness. The grass towers above our heads. We work swiftly and silently, listening for any suspicious sounds in the grass. This is the home turf of the rhinos and the wild buffaloes! They could charge at us  kill us -- for invading their space.

We hear a loud series of angry snorting and ominous rustlings in the grass about 30 meters away. Rhino! Frantic scrambling and a surge of adrenaline help us escape in time. We have had several narrow escapes from charging rhinos recently. Running through tall grass over rough terrain should be an Olympic event. We would surely win the gold medal! This time the rhino thunders through the plot where we were standing! We heave a sigh of relief at getting away without a scratch! Once the coast is clear we descend and finish the monitoring of the remaining plots.

11.00: I will do the next transect riding on elephant-back. I need to see down into the tall grass to record animal location and activity within the dense thickets. The terrain is uneven, and the elephant lurches as it walks. I clutch my binoculars and my field notebook tighter! It sounds like fun, but it is not easy to ride the elephant. There is no saddle on Jaimala, my elephant, and I have to straddle her broad back and hope I don t slide off! Luckily for me, Jaimala and her "mahout", or guide, are fearless and stand ground even when rhinos charge at us! We pass through very thick brush, and I have to shield my face and protect my binoculars from the vegetation. We observe 12 rhinos feeding, resting, and an occasional rhino wallowing in a pool of mud. Jaimala descends into the river for a long drink, and then we move on. The guard keeps vigil and urges us to work faster as he watches the slow progress of a herd of wild buffaloes heading our way. He does not want to have to confront them.

2.30: I am watching a herd of elephants having a dust bath and some mothers with calves swimming across a "beel". My field assistant stops in the middle of a whispered statement. A magnificent tigress is strolling through my study plot. Following closely at her heels are three cubs, barely a month old. It s a remarkable sight! Unaware of our presence, the tigress and her cubs amble across the plot. The deer in the distance are alert to their presence and set out alarm calls. I have time to shoot several quick pictures! For ten brief minutes I stop my work to watch the tigress and her playful cubs.

4.30: The sun sets in a glorious burst of color over the rippling waters of the beel. We have had a good day. But the day has not ended yet. As we drive back to the field station, I am still ready for anything to happen. At this late hour, in this remote, undisturbed corner of the national park, life continues. The armed guard has left us now, and we are back in the jeep. There is a herd of elephants on the road ahead. The driver tries to back up. He slams on the brakes. A gigantic male rhino stands on the path, less than 50 meters away! At times like this, fervent prayers seem the only recourse. There is not much that can be done when one is sandwiched (without a guard and the safety of his rifle) between a herd of elephants and a rhino! We wait& . Half an hour later the coast ahead of us is clear. It is very dark by the time we reach the field station. Only when I reach my door can I stop to take a deep breath. Another day of successful fieldwork draws to a close. Tomorrow will be another day of discovery and adventure.