‘Small is beautiful' were the words that came to my mind when I visited two small areas rich in biodiversity — the Longwood Shola just outside Kotagiri in the Nilgiris, Tamil Nadu, and the Hoolongapar Gibbon Wildlife Sanctuary in Assam. While the size of the sanctuary is about 20 sq.km, that of the shola isa mere one sq.km.!
The shola is a naturalist's delight — it is a remnant of the original shola forests, and gives one a good idea of how parts of the Nilgiris must have been before the forests were cut down for tea and timber. It is home to a host of wildlife, including the Malabar giant squirrel, the flying squirrel, leopards and gaur. The forest plays a significant ecological role, and is the catchment area for many streams that meet the water needs of nearby villages.
The forest is damp and dark, and a lovely trail enables you to do a great two-and-a-half-hour trek through it. Almost within a couple of hundred mt into the shola, we spotted the endemic Nilgiri laughing thrush and the splendid black-and-orange flycatcher.
In the ill-lit forest, the flycatcher's colours took our breath away, as it flew low over the ground looking for insects.
We soon came across a mixed flock of birds — male and female scarlet minivets in their resplendent colours; restless little velvet-fronted nuthatches forever scrambling up the branches; the splendid flameback woodpecker; and even a pygmy woodpecker!
Suddenly, a loud clattering noise broke the silence of the place — a Malabar giant squirrel! We spotted the mammal in the thick canopy above us, and its nest high up on a nearby tree. It had spotted us too, and for a brief while it froze trying to fool our us away. An arboreal, this species rarely comes down to the ground, and moves through the forests jumping from one tree to another; forest fragmentation threatens its survival.
Now to the sanctuary. The sanctuary is home to India's only ape species (the Western Hoolock gibbon), and six other primates — the capped langur, the stump-tailed macaque, the pig-tailed macaque, the Assamese macaque, the Bengal slow loris, and the rhesus macaque.
Within minutes of our entry into the sanctuary, we spotted the Malayan giant squirrel — a large tree squirrel with a black upper body and tail with buff colouration on its belly. It seemed less shy than its Malabar cousin.
Our guide's deep knowledge of the sanctuary and the behaviour of each primate species was inspiring. Despite the fact that we did not hear the loud call of the Hoolock gibbons that day (‘you are likely to hear it call rather than see it', we were warned), our guide located two groups for us. We watched a family of four for over an hour, craning our necks to get glimpses of them as they swung from branch to branch, stopping every once in a way to eat leaves, or to look down at us with wide eyes. The baby gibbon enthralled us by alternately clinging to its mother and setting off to explore the branch it was on.
The Hoolock gibbon rarely comes to the ground, and is known to spend most of its life up on trees. It gets its water from the dew on the canopy.
Of the other primate species we spotted were the rhesus macaque and the capped langur. The latter, with its golden yellow hair and contrasting black face, was a beautiful sight in the surrounding shades of green. As we walked on, we came to a railway track that cut through the sanctuary.
Our guide told us how he had observed Hoolock gibbons come to the edge in this part and look at the gibbons in the forests across — the railway line has meant loss of access to the forests across to not only these magnificent apes, but other primates such as the capped langur.
As we walked back to the sanctuary gates, I could not help thinking of the arboreal giant squirrel down South, also impacted by forest fragmentation.
