Corbett has over 600 species of avifauna, making it one of the richest bird sanctuaries in the country, but the place remains invariably associated with tigers. M Jagadish Singh visits the national park and tells us about his experiences
When I was young, I loved stories about tigers and leopards. My father would often tell me about Jim Corbett’s adventures in the wild. Thirty years later, I still remember the spell those words would create. My eyes would focus on his lips — incessantly drawing pictures in my mind. But a regret remained over the years: Of not visiting Jim Corbett National Park. So, when my friend Emelda rang me up asking if I would join her — with her husband Umarjit and kids — to Corbett, I got excited. For, it would not only help me find some relief from the approaching summer heat, but also allow me to see the land named after one of my childhood heroes.
Kashipur was our first stop. We had our breakfast at a local food stall there. After driving for two hours we crossed Ramnagar. From there, the road traverses flanking along the gorge of the river Kosi, the ‘sorrow of Bihar’. On the way, we saw the famous Garjiya temple. The road led us to a flat terrain and we saw a beautiful village along the river. All the houses were thatched and trees were laden with wild orchids. The name of the village was Sunderkhal. The beauty of the place, however, was occasionally marred by man-animal conflicts. An old woman told me how a tigress killed six people, including five women, in 2010. I then realised why the village was surrounded by an electric fencing.
At around 11 am we crossed Dhangari Gate, the main entry of Dhikala. On the way, I noticed a number of resorts and properties for sale. Suddenly, a few spotted deer jumped down the hill slope and we almost hit a calf. We stopped the car and watched them disappear in the woods. We were both worried as well as exited with the encounter.
After 15 minutes of drive, we saw a wooden hanging-board. On it was written — ‘The Den’. So, here we were finally at our resort. The rooms were well-furnished. We unpacked our bags, went to the reception and enquired about the safari jeep. Much to the disappointment of Emelda, she was told that the jeep won’t be coming to pick us up. She rang up the adventure club and shouted at them. Finally, they agreed to send the vehicle. The manager showed us the way to the dining hall where food was served in a buffet style.
By the time we finished our lunch, the jeep had arrived. On the way, the driver showed us the spot where the tigress had killed her first victim in 2010. He also said that the Government would soon be moving the villagers away. Around 2.30 pm, we entered Bijrani Gate. A few locals were trying to rent us binoculars. Meanwhile, Gaurav Kulbe, our forest guide, checked the papers and got into the jeep. He was young, energetic and quite serious about his work. He told us how he wished to visit the Northeastern States.
Gaurav took us to many places, and we saw spotted deer, sambar, langur, turtle, monitor lizard and a snake-eagle. When we reached the foothills, we saw a golden mahseer swimming in the brook. From there, the grassland started. We stopped at the government rest house. Few vehicles were already parked there. The boundaries were surrounded by an electric fencing. At the centre of the compound stood a gigantic silk-cotton tree.
Once our papers got verified, we started moving again. Driving a little further, we saw tiger claw marks on the bark of a tree. So, we were in a tiger’s territory! We stopped by a waterhole, waiting for the animal. Failing to find him, we moved into the grassland and again there were pugmarks of a tiger near the riverbed. We were soon in the middle of a vast grassland and could see a watchtower at Bijrani. A couple of trucks were parked at the base of a hillock and we watched them from a distance. Half-an-hour later, as we were losing hope, a tigress appeared and a woman shouted: “Oh! there it is.” Gaurav yelled at her to maintain silence. We watched the beautiful animal for a few minutes and headed back.
As we were returning, I thought of how in 1936 Corbett attained the distinction of being the first national park to be established in mainland Asia. To recognise the contributions of James E Corbett, the park — which was earlier termed Hailey National Park and then Ramganga National Park — was christened as Jim Corbett National Park in 1957. I also remembered how the park had been closely linked with tigers — this despite the fact that with about 600 species of avifauna Corbett had been one of the richest bird sanctuaries in the country. Corbett’s tiger association is understandable because not just the endangered Bengal tiger resides here but also the sanctuary has been the first to come under Project Tiger initiative.
Next morning, we got up early for the elephant safari. When we reach the Way Mark Adventure office, a man took us to the stable. I was a bit disheartened to see the size of the elephant given to us for ride. It was the smallest of all and I sarcastically asked the mahout if she could carry us. He roared into laughter. On the way, the mahout told us that larli was the youngest elephant they had. She was only 20 years old and would attain maturity at the age of 40. Soon we reached the riverbed; the Sitabani forest was just across it.
The day was cloudy and pleasant. We saw a sambar sitting under the bushes but won’t just run away. I had a feeling that something was going to happen. Suddenly, cheetals and monkeys started making alarm calls. The mahout guided the elephant towards the direction. lo and behold, we saw a big Royal Bengal tiger. Hailing high his head, he gave us a long look. And then, he leaped across the stream to vanish into the forest.
On our return journey, we saw some girls cutting firewoods not far from the spot we saw the tiger. When we reached the elephant stable, there were many people awaiting us. They all admired the tiger snaps we had taken. A kid complained to his mother that they must buy a good camera to click tigers. Before we left for the resort, Emelda gave the mahout a tip of Rs200 and bought some edibles for the young elephant.
In the afternoon, Umarjit and I had a canter safari for Dhikala. We dropped Emelda and her kids at the resort and headed for Dhangari Gate. At the checkpost, we were informed that our canter will arrive at 2.30 pm. We felt sorry for ourselves that we skipped both breakfast and lunch in order to report on time. With nothing else to do, we went to see Corbett Museum. There was, however, not much to see.
When the canter finally arrived, we were shocked to see the kind of companions we had. Some boys from Delhi were making a lot of noise. Some of them constantly made false alarms of sighting animals. They showed no respect for the wildlife or people around them. If Wikipedia is to be believed, every season more than 70,000 people come to the park. I am sure most of them won’t be better than those I encountered that afternoon. Worse, we had an indifferent guide and driver. They wouldn’t stop for any photographic moment and the canter appeared more like a public transport and the guide our conductor!
We stopped for a while at Dhikala. From there, we saw Ramganga river, famous for ghariyals and golden mahseer. But we saw nothing from that distance. However, we sighted a few animals — crocodile, spotted deer, sambar, wild boar, among others.
When we returned, Emelda and kids were still playing in the lawn. We took our dinner and retired to bed early. Next morning, I sneaked out early and spent some time in the river. When I returned, my friends were still at the breakfast table. We took light food and went to pack our bags. As we were taking our luggage out, we had a sinking feeling: We were, after all, going back to the madness of the city life.