Wildlife of the Himalayas and the Terai Region

Author: Ashok S Kothari and Boman F Chhapgar (ed)

Publisher: Oxford, Rs1,250

The book brings out brilliantly the wildlife of the Himalayas, writes Prerna Singh Bindra

I noted with interest the arrival of Wildlife of the Himalayas and the Terai Region on my desk. Though grounded in the plains, I am a child of the Himalayas. My ancestors hail from the North-West Frontier Province — and I have grown up on stories of that world, now beyond my reach. Most of the clan waxed eloquent about the food — meats and breads fired in clay ovens, juicy maltas and walnuts from the garden, the spices and dry fruit. My grandmother, however, had an affinity with nature and would talk nostalgically about the exquisite avian creatures of her garden and the wild goats that walked the cliffs. As for the Terai — that fecund forests and grasslands spread over the southern slopes of the Himalayas, supporting a spectacular assemblage of Asia’s wildlife — it is the forest of my heart.

I nurse a secret anguish, too: As magnificent as the Himalayas (and the Terai) are, rich in their faunal and floral wealth, it’s amazing biodiversity and rare wildlife are yet to get their due. Much as the mountain range has fascinated and inspired mountaineers, poets, spiritualists, explorers, naturalists and tourists, there is a dearth of comprehensive documentation, at least in popular media, to showcase wildlife of the Himalayas.

No wonder, it was with much delight that I received this coffee-table book, depicting in words and pictures the natural wonders of the Himalayas: From the eastern frontiers of Kashmir across the lowlands in Uttarakhand, Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and onward to north Bengal and eastern Himalayas in Northeast India and Bhutan.

The Himalayan mountain’s great altitudinal limits — exceeding beyond 6,000m above mean sea level, and with its distinct zones ranging from the cold deserts above the tree line through to oaks and junipers, pine and then broadleaved tropical sal forests in the lower hills and plains below — support an amazing diversity of flora and fauna. Each zone is characterised with its distinctive fauna. Even the highest of peaks in the bleakest of winters supports life — wolves, ibex, hare... and the “most beautiful of all cats”, writes Robert Sterndale in 1929. “In this treeless region (18,000 ft), the snow leopard preys on burher, ibex and on marmots and other rodents,” he adds.

The book imparts general information on various species, again highlighting the rare and endemic — the only Indian red deer, the hangul, living in its rapidly shrinking paradise in Kashmir, the wild yak which eats “a rough wiry grass found at an elevation of nearly 20,000 ft”, the Marco Polo sheep, which was described in the Travels of Marco Polo by the 13th century explorer. The book talks about the charismatic mega fauna like tiger, leopard and elephant, while not ignoring the lesser-known but equally intriguing creatures like weasels, hares and civets — including the particularly interesting and every elusive binturong or the bear cat, which is neither a bear nor a cat, but a civet.

What lends value to the text is the extracts from travelogues and personal experiences. Says writer Colonel Alexander of the wolf, “I could do what I like with him, but he was the terror of the weak-minded cook, whose kitchen he used to invade with a view to plunder.” The book brings to fore past splendors: “The lesser one-horned or Javan rhino is still tolerably abundant in the Sundarbans and also found in the Sikkim Terai.” This was in the late 18th century — and it’s long vanished now from India, as is the Sumatran two-horned rhino. It’s a sobering thought that both these species are now extinct in India, and share the bleak distinction of being the most threatened rhino species.

As is evident, much of the text is culled from the rich repository of material from the old issues of the Journal of Bombay Natural History Society, and also Journal of Darjeeling Natural History Society, Journal of Bengal Natural History Society and other sources. Some of these include the writings of hunter-cum-naturalist Alexendar Trilok, who wrote about the wildlife of the Alpine Himalayas in 1860. There are also chapters from a 1909 book by Japanese monk Shraamana Kawaguchi, who lived in Tibet for three years and wrote about its wildlife.

The spectacular birdlife and the landscape of the Himalayas are depicted in lithographs, affording an opportunity to see the works of great artists and naturalists such as John Gould, J Forbes Royle, JD Hooker, Nathaniel Wallich, EC Stuart Baker, TC Jerdon and Major E Molyneux. While not undermining in anyway the text, there is little doubt that the greatest attraction of the book is its stunning lithographs, but in that lies my only grouse — that each exquisite imprint is marred by the name of the sponsor. While one understands the imperative, the generosity may have been more appreciated if more discreet.

This apart, the book’s a treasure — a delightful read, pleasing to the eye, and providing for a useful record of the wild wonders of the Himalayas.

The reviewer is Member, National Board for Wildlife