Pugmarks in the rain

I remember the first time I saw her. It was a misty winter morning, and the visibility was rather poor. We saw her sitting right in the middle of the track, the blanket of white giving her an ethereal appearance. 

Our safari vehicle came to an abrupt halt, stunned by the sight of the gorgeous tigress licking

her paws nonchalantly. Unperturbed by our presence, she continued grooming herself while we watched, mesmerized by the bold feline who would captivate the hearts of many tigers and humans alike in the years to come.

She has charmed many a tiger since then, raised two handsome male cubs to adulthood, lost two more when they were barely a of couple months old, and, as recent pictures suggest, is now bringing up at least one more cub in the jungles of Bandipur. 

Despite having photographed her many times over the years, my eyes always search for the familiar face in the jungle. Her unblemished, rich coat, the little patches of white on her ears, and those artful markings above her eyes earned her the moniker that stuck; beautiful! 

It was typical monsoon weather, the rain having washed the jungle clean the previous night. 

We set off in the morning, our driver expertly maneuvering the 4X4 through the muddy track. Though it had ceased to rain, the water droplets rolled off the leaves, showering us whenever the wind rustled through the trees. A peacock called out melodiously. “Meao…meao!” it went, perched atop a dead tree that was ravaged by the monsoon winds.

“Pug marks!” our driver said, abruptly bringing the vehicle to a halt. He pointed to the deep indents in the soil, his focus shifting to the dense undergrowth. 

“It’s a female,” he continued, “and it’s fresh!” 

Sure enough, the distinct pugmarks indicated that a tigress had just passed by. The absence of tire tracks over them suggested that she’d crossed moments ago. I peered into the imprints, amused by my reflection in the small puddle that had formed within. 

Like Hansel and Gretel in the fable, we followed her tracks, hoping she’d emerge from the thicket. 

But kismet had other plans. Instead of spotting the orange and black stripes, we were met with two muddy boulders, and one of them wasn’t in a very agreeable mood. 

Protective of her calf, the female elephant was having none of it as we tried to drive past. Unusually agitated, she blocked our path, refusing to budge. Her little one, its tiny tusks just starting to emerge, watched casually as his mother trumpeted and charged every time we so much as inched forward. What a sticky situation it was! 

With no other choice but to give up, our driver shifted into reverse and left the mother and son alone. Needless to say, we were a disappointed lot, but there was more to come. 

We decided to circle the thicket to try and track the tigress from the other side. Negotiating the mire wasn’t easy, and complicating our progress was the rain, which began as a steady drizzle. 

A couple of minutes into the drive brought us face to face with another safari vehicle. The driver, who was conveniently on the other side of the elephants by the bend, gleefully informed us that he’d seen the tigress by the track. She glanced at the excited crowd and melted away into the jungle as the drizzle turned into a downpour. At least that explained the agitated behavior of the mamma elephant!

That said, there was nothing more to do but to head back, disappointed, drenched, and in desperate need of a hot breakfast and a cup of tea.

It was our seventh safari and we’d had our fair share of elephants, sambhar deer, and alluring peacocks. Of the tiger, there wasn’t a glimpse.

Joining us on the fateful day were a knowledgeable naturalist and some affable companions. The afternoon sky, although the colour of dull steel, had mercifully not opened up. 

Nearly thirty uneventful minutes had passed. We encountered more sambhar deer, some disinterested peafowl, and large herds of the mighty Indian gaur. Our naturalist shared some interesting trivia on gaur behaviour, then turned to face us, and said, “You know, it’s been four years since I last saw her...”

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than she revealed herself. It was as if the naturalist had conjured her up from his imagination! 

The same delicate markings above her eyes, the same unblemished coat. There was no doubt… it was her at last! 

She moved with the elegance of a lyrical dance, her sinewy muscles firmly planted on the rain-kissed earth. 

Our driver reversed the vehicle, sensing her mood for a stroll along the jungle track. 

She walked along the track, casually at first, stopping in characteristic tiger behavior, sniffing the air and scent-marking some bushes and trees that were the unfortunate recipients.

Her eyes darted this way and that as if looking for something. Pausing from time to time, she continued sniffing the air, her enormous head cocked to one side. What could it possibly be? 

The excitement in the jeep was palpable. I put down my camera and gazed at her as she walked a few yards, stopped to sniff, and stared intently into a thicket. It looked like she’d found what she was looking for.

We backed up further, putting enough distance between the vehicle and the animal. At the very moment, our ears picked up a faint noise behind us. The lantana shook, disturbed by whatever was concealed. Tearing my eyes off the tigress, I turned my attention to the noise behind us, and there it was! The cause for all the sniffing and staring. 

It was a gaur calf. A little older than a month, it still wore the soft brown coat of a baby. The terrified animal knew it had been seen by the predator. It panicked, running helter-skelter, unable to make sense of a world without its protective herd. 

She tigress crouched, unable to contain herself any longer. She sprang forward like an arrow, intent on securing a meal for herself and maybe her little one. We watched, open-mouthed, as the tigress chased the frightened calf, which ran as fast as its little legs could carry it! The bushes parted, and there was a great commotion as the hunt ensued.

Then, suddenly, it went quiet. Unbelievably, the calf had gotten away! It sure was its lucky day, although not so much for the tigress, who would go without a meal until her next attempt to bring down a hooved beast. And who knows when that would be?

Well, it wasn’t her first rodeo, and try again she would. For, such is the way of life in the jungle, where survival is a matter of stealth, speed, and sometimes sheer courage. 

The magnificent creature paused for a moment, grooming herself before she resumed her walk, once again getting us to back up as she sauntered leisurely. 

Then, having decided she’d had enough of walking along the track, she turned around and gracefully melted away into the shrubbery. A beautiful tigress she is indeed!