Stalking tigers

By Bryan Kingsfield

It is getting hot. It was 38C yesterday. That is 100F for those of you still converting. The heat means that in the rural areas the water holes are drying up and it is easier to predict where animals can be seen taking a drink. We have been to two tiger reserves and not seen a tiger so we thought we should give it another go, given the season. 

We went to the Tadoba Tiger reserve south of Nagpur. I will not go into detail about how much trouble it was to arrange the trip. It actually just seems normal now to fail continuously at whatever it is you are attempting to arrange. I did eventually mange to book accommodation at the government lodge in the reserve. But the booking of actual safaris eluded me. Safaris, a ride in a jeep with a driver and guide through the forest, are (supposedly) limited to a given number per day. I had been told both that there would be no problem getting one once there and that they could only be booked online and the spots were all gone.

When we arrived at the lodge I went to see the manager. I asked about safaris.

"Sorry Sir. All booked."

He shook his head sadly at the thought of us having come all this way for nothing.

I knew enough by now to know that this would not be the end of the matter. I asked again. 

"No chance at all for a safari?"

"You have to book online, Sir. And all booked."

If it had been five months ago I would have given up. Now I just smiled and waited. After a couple of minutes of us just standing smiling at each other the manager spoke.

"Maybe I can help you, Sir. You go to room now."

I went to our room and waited. After it got dark there was a knock on the door. It was the manager. He said, "Come, come." We started walking. We headed for a building about 200 yards from the hotel that had a sign saying "Youth Hostel". There were no guests at this hostel. There were two large rooms with bunk beds with no sign of any youths. The manager led me to an office where a serious looking young man sat unsmiling behind a stack of papers and ledgers. Very few English words were spoken. There was a lot of signing of documents and payment of about twice the going rate for safaris. As far as I could tell I had registered as a guest of the hostel and this somehow magically made a safari possible even though all the official spaces had been taken. What a country.

We headed through the controlled reserve entrance at 5:30 the next morning along with about 12 other jeeps full of Indian tourists. I wondered if all the other jeeps had been booked more legitimately than ours. When the jeeps entered the reserve they split up and took different routes through the forest. After about a kilometer the guide pointed to a dense part of the forest and said:

"A man cutting bamboo illegally was killed by a tiger here last week."

"Do the tiger's kill many people?" I asked.

"About 13 people were killed last year in this area."

I raised my eyebrows. Seeing this gesture, the guide added quickly "But never any tourists, Sir. Only locals."  I wondered how they tell them apart.

We had been driving around for about 2 hours without any luck. We then came upon one of the other jeeps. The people in it were all smiling and laughing.  They had seen a tiger.  Not just one but a mother and four cubs.  The jeep came up beside us and they leaned over and showed us some of the pictures they had taken.  Leona was genuinely happy for these people and their good fortune.  I am not that evolved.  I smiled weakly and glanced briefly at a couple of pictures. Envy filled my heart. 

The smiley ones drove off and we continued our search.  The guide said we were going to where one tiger sometimes crosses the road and see if we would get lucky.  We rounded a corner and the guide pointed.  A huge Royal Bengal tiger was walking down the road towards us.  This male tiger we found out was famous for its size.  It had even been named.  A local name that meant King of the Forest.  The monster cat completely ignored us and nobly and casually continued his journey coming within 10 feet of our jeep.  When he was that close he turned his head and looked at us.  It was a little unnerving. I thought of the guide's assurances that tigers prefer domestic to foreign food.  The guide gave us more reassurance by saying, "They never attack jeeps."  Well, there is always a first time for everything. 

We followed the King for about a half hour as he walked through the forest to get to his watering hole.  After we lost sight of him it was time to exit the reserve.  We drove out through the gate and went back to the lodge for lunch.  In the lodge dining room we met a group of people who had been on the morning safari too.  They asked if we had seen any tigers.  We proudly showed our pictures.  They had not seen a tiger.  Again Leona demonstrated her advanced nature and sincerely consoled the unfortunates.  I felt only smugness and my joy seemed a little deeper because not everyone was able to share it.  I felt a little ashamed about this, but not much. 

Only five days left in India.  This is probably our signoff.  It's been a wild ride here in the magic kingdom.  I highly recommend South India for all the guidebook reasons.  But also because of the people.  For every con artist who tried to take advantage of us there were 100 people who were eager to help us with whatever we needed.  Someone has said that an Indian smiles with his heart.  I think that is true.