 |
| One-horned Rhinos |
“Shhh!” Hemanta, my guide, signals, just
a couple meters ahead of me but hardly visible through the tall elephant grass.
We tip toe slowly until we reach an opening on a bank overlooking a small patch
of water lilies. There, on the other side just thirty meters away, two rare one-horned rhino cows wallow in the lilies. Above them, in the grass, a large bull
rhino peers out at us. “They can smell us
and hear us, but can’t see us,” Hermanta whispers. Alert to our presence, the
cows cock their heads and stare at us — their ears pointed up. Slowly, the two drag
their large black bodies out of the water and lumber onto the grass bank. “They’re dangerous. The rhinos, tigers, and
crocodiles kill around a dozen people a year. Sixty years ago it was very
dangerous to live here. Besides the jungle animals, the natives had to contend
with malaria. Only the Tharu people were immune to the malaria-infested
mosquito. But don’t worry, it’s okay now.” Without talking, we move from
the elephant grass into a grove of sal trees. Hemanta pauses and points. Two
spotted deer jump out in front of us. Beyond, a heard of them come to life and
in flurry disappear into the thicket. “The
tigers love the spotted deer.” “And
humans?” I ask. “The rangers will
kill the tiger that kills a human. Once a tiger has eaten human flesh, he will
return for more.” We reach the river where a canoe is waiting for us. As we
drift down the river, high in the trees, monkeys swing from limb to limb while
below, barely visible, submerged crocodiles lie in prey.
No comments:
Post a Comment