What can be said about the jungle, that hasn’t been said before? But it is my first. I am in the middle of the Kiluvamalai Reserve Forest, experiencing for the first time a wildlife census as part of a five-member volunteer group.
I conjure up mental images of an expert team venturing into Everglades in search of the biggest alligators in the world as seen on Nat Geo. But, humble Kiluvamalai is nothing like the Everglades and there are no Crocs either. Nevertheless, the excitement of being surrounded by dense thickets for about eight kilometers on all sides and sharing space with inhabitants of the wild is the same.
Leaving behind the rumble of vehicles on the Natham Highway remind, we are engulfed by the quietude of the wilderness. It feels uneasy though. The stillness is punctuated only by the rustle of leaves, the breaking of twigs under our trekking shoes and Forest Guard Sundaram’s whispers.
The dark stocky man sporting a bushy mustache takes long nonchalant strides on the pebble-laden path as we struggle to keep pace with him. He knows the terrain like the back of his palm and points to a wild brook running dry, “This was where I was charged by a fully grown male Indian gaur during the last census. I fell down, but luckily escaped.” He shows an old bruise on his right elbow. A Serpent Eagle soars high from underneath a bunch of thorny shrubs, magnificently spreading its wings and scanning the area in circles. “The bird is looking for breakfast,” says Sundaram.
Forest watcher Arumugam joins us midway and informs that he sighted over a dozen Indian Gaurs the previous night. “They cross from one range to the other during nights. We see them almost every day,” he says. Soon we are signalled to stop as Sundaram suspects some movement in the bush. Is it a jackal or a bison? Suddenly the excitement soars. Eventually we encounter a group of monkeys!
Sundaram gets busy counting and noting down their number in the census form. In a small yellow cloth bag, he carries a map of the reserve forest, a torch light, multiple forms for fining offenders and recording their confessions.
As we continue walking, he shows us old and fresh scats of jackals, dungs of Indian gaurs and peacock droppings. “We take note of such identification marks to approximately conclude the population of each species,” he says and adds, “There are many snakes here, except pythons.”
Four kilometers on, we reach a small natural clearing amidst the undergrowth, the place where the animals rest during the day. Between bites of biscuits and sips of water, we listen to the parakeets summing up a quick orchestra. The bulbuls, mynahs, sparrows, sunbirds and the bee-eaters join in. Now, there’s nothing eerie about the forest and its silence. It’s chirpy and cacophonic! Bees buzz around wild yellow flowers, “These are the avarampoo flowers, used in decorations during Pongal,” says Arumugam.
We reach Vazhaiyoothu, a natural spring that has little water left. Last year’s rains had helped recharge the spring. Out of the blue, here we see a pair of bisons shying away behind a huge tree! The female strikes a pose for the shutterbugs and before we realize, the duo walk away as our eyes turn to a flock of barn swallows flying past. “These birds are harbingers of rain,” says Sundaram. In a few minutes, the clouds play the drums and we listen to the pitter-patter. The short spell of rain is a welcome relief and the guard smiles, “Nature is perfect!”
Forest facts: Spread over 800-hectares, Kiluvamalai is a small self-sustained deciduous shrub forest comprising five hillocks and four forest ranges. Kadavur in Madurai district nurtures a variety of small mammals such as wild boar, jackal and black-naped hare apart from a good number of Indian gaurs and a wide range of birds including peacocks.
One of the hillocks in the forest is called Pulikuttu . “Probably, this forest had tigers once upon a time,” suggests Arumugam. He reasons out that Kiluvamalai got its name from the abundant Kiluvai trees, found on the hill. “Most of the trees here are thorny - Cacti, Usil and other small shrubs. They were a source of fuel for the villagers earlier,” he adds.
Forest Guard Sundaram: “Kiluvamalai doesn’t suffer from poaching activities. There have been no or very little mysterious animal deaths. Last month, the forest guard spotted a barbed wire trap on the other side of the forest, used for poaching hares. During one of my patrols, I caught the offender and fined him Rs.20,000.
At times, there are complaints of bisons straying into mango farms bordering the jungle. Stray incidents of Jackals preying on livestock in the surrounding hamlets have also been reported. It isn’t an easy job to be a forest official.”
Nihar Ranjan, District Forest Officer, Madurai: “It is imperative to have a census periodically. Though wildlife census is not the exact number of animals, we definitely get to identify a trend in the data. Once the data is complied, we look if there are any fluctuations in the population of any species of animals or birds. If we find any alarming variation, we act on it. Census gives us an idea of whether our forests are facing any serious natural/man-made threats.”
