Reminiscences of My Pench Years

Now it feels ancient that I spent my first seven formative years at Pench Wildlife Sanctuary in the latter half of the last century! During this enriching tenure, I tried to grasp and learn the very basics of science and art of wildlife management and research. And in many ways, this protected area served as my preliminary alma mater. This article is a retrospective account of this tenure, seen through the eyes of a young forester in his late twenties. The camera I occasionally carried was old even then, and may well have been the prototype of that particular model, hence the unclarity of images. Sounds rather like a proverbial bad workman, but I request your patience and understanding.

It was a cold, late morning of December 7, 1992, in Pench national park. The forest around me was vibrant with its usual heady fragrance and jungle soundscapes - rustling leaves, distant alarm calls, punctuated by piercing peacock calls. RB Pathak, now a range officer at Satpura, sat pillion on my Bullet. I was talking to him, my mind more on our chat than on the road ahead. A sudden road curve jerked the mind back to attention. I almost collided with the tiger while fumbling to press the brake fully. The engine stopped automatically in this confusion. He was going in the same direction, slightly ahead of us.

The tiger turned around with astonishing quickness. The beast snarled, its head swung, and mouth opened real wide in a loud growl, baring mouthful of those formidable teeth. I became panicky to be standing on the very edge of that dreadful opening. I somehow managed to hold the Bullet upright, standing astride it and feeling rooted to the spot. It was so absurdly close to the super cat. Though my fear might have exaggerated this distance.

Alas, all my imagination worked so rapidly in the beast’s favour! Time

seemed to come to a standstill for a few seconds, and an old popular maxim flashed across my mind that ‘while the tiger is a gentleman, the tigress is not a lady’. This means no disrespect to the tigress, and only underscores a mother-tigress’s matchless ferocity to defend her cubs from every danger until they become sub-adults and leave her. The tiger, however, is generally known to avoid unnecessary conflicts, dismissing them with royal nonchalance or harmless displeasures. But now the way the felid held my eyes made me wonder anxiously if he knew how a gentleman was supposed to behave! This saying had suddenly lost all charm for me.

Pathak pressed my shoulders slightly, and spoke to me something in a low breathy voice, probably cautioning me to stay completely motionless. Suddenly, the tiger turned away and started walking leisurely along the road ahead. Well, he did behave like a king and dismissed us regally. After walking for a while the tiger entered the roadside dense vegetation and disappeared. I was shaken and took my time to adjust my bearings. Pathak was much calmer and also managed a fearful smile. He probably knew which one of us would have been the first meal of the tiger that day! I still sometimes remember those moments with a shudder. They are permanently etched in my sub-conscious mind. No doubt, it was a close shave, but it also rendered me immune to the fierceness and size of any other tiger for the rest of my career.

After spending over five years at my first posting at the State Forest Research Institute, Jabalpur, I was transferred to Pench wildlife sanctuary as range officer. I had actually requested senior officers for such a posting, as I wished to pursue a Ph.D. on a wildlife related project. Some officers, however, also dissuaded me by reminding good-humoredly that I had already exhausted my quota of research with the SFRI posting. Though most regarded my request as the flight of fancy of a young man, they nevertheless helped me and facilitated my transfer. I did not realise at that time that I would spend the remainder of my long service span in the wildlife wing of the department. How it seems only like yesterday!

It was a rainy July in 1986 when I joined Pench wildlife sanctuary. I was very conscious about my limitations regarding this first field posting, with a sense of both anticipation and humility. My first meeting was with Shri GD Dwivedi sir, superintendent of the sanctuary, later to retire as deputy director of the buffer zone of Pench tiger reserve. An officer whose reputation already preceded him. Soft-spoken and poised, he had earlier served as an assistant director in Bandhavgarh national park for several years, and had in him both the professionalism of formal wildlife training and the knowledge of hard-earned field experience. He told me about the sanctuary in great detail, including its wildlife status, the administrative setup, the persistent problems and issues that tested it, and above all, the on and off relationship with the villages bordering the sanctuary. He also mentioned the importance of contiguity between these two conservation entities – the national park and the wildlife sanctuary. The meeting enhanced my understanding and made me aware of the basic problems in the management of the protected area. Besides, the superintendent sir also hinted at his expectations of me. The sanctuary had been carved out of the compartments of territorial ranges, and was attached to the south Seoni territorial division. I later found that all the DFOs had been very supportive of the protected area.

I also had the privilege of meeting with Shri Suhas Kumar sir, IFS, park director, many times during my years at Pench. He was also a trained wildlifer, with a reputation of being a hard worker, just, and upright. He was very encouraging to me throughout. He later held senior positions in the state forest department and at the Wildlife Institute of India (WII), Dehradun, and rose to become a PCCF in the state. Throughout his career he would stand out and be known for his vision and work for wildlife management in Madhya Pradesh.

I was totally green and knew my limitations. So, besides the superintendent sir’s guidance and the staff’s experience, my tenure at Pench remained an adaptive learning process, focusing on gaining managerial knowledge and skills through effort, observation, and adjustment. In those years, I also managed to read several old wildlife classics and government documents about the Pench landscape. I tried my best to make full use of the library at the Wildlife Institute of India (WII) Dehradun, during my several visits, including wildlife management training and also during library consultation for research work. I discharged all my conservation duties with the support of my team of mostly wildlife-trained young forest guards. Little did I know at that time that this landscape would become an alma mater to me as far as the science and art of wildlife conservation was concerned. Therefore, I find it difficult to frame this article as a list of achievements or notable contributions. These are simply my memories of the landscape and its people, the wildlife ecosystem, and the problems existed 33-40 years ago.

The Pench ‘landscape’ is a rather loose term and broadly takes into account the physiographic and ecological identity of a large area under the watershed ecology of the Pench River. This landscape was once known to harbour vast forest resources, including a wide range of wildlife species in the 18^th and 19^th centuries. Tigers and leopards were abundant. Later, however, in the 20^th century, this region started showing signs of enormous fragmentation, devastation of forests and disappearance of wildlife. The transformation was almost irreversible, and the pattern was the same as everywhere in India. Although technical forest management during these decades did attempt to introduce basic restrictions on the destruction of forests and wildlife, an appallingly large cover was lost to rampant legal and illegal felling, hunting, poaching, encroachment, and devastating forest fires. Also contributing to this ruin was a gradual increase in human and cattle population, a general lack of conservation awareness, and slack enforcement of existing basic wildlife rules and laws.

The status of wildlife in the Seoni and Chhindwara districts in the past was not particularly impressive, according to old district gazetteers. RV Russell (1907) wrote that while the Seoni district had extensive forest areas that were well-stocked with game, tigers and panthers were not common. Deer and waterbirds were found in large numbers in various parts of the district. The same author also noted that the forests of Chhindwara were not well-stocked with wildlife and offered poor opportunities for sport. Bison were occasionally seen on the banks of the Pench river in the south-east, however, common species of deer and antelope were present in the forests.

I entered the sanctuary on my first field tour during the monsoon. The sky was overcast with a hint of rain. The forest road was bikeable initially, but it later became muddy and sticky because of the early morning rains. Eventually, I had to leave the Bullet behind to start walking along with the concerned beat guard. It was an almost pure patch of teak, with a sprinkling of trees of mixed species here and there. An amazing scenic view of lush green canopies of stately teak trees, with wet ovate leaves glistening with tiny water droplets. The forest floor had dense undergrowth of associated plant species. The serenity of the forest was sometimes lightly interrupted by animal sounds, which, the beat guard told me, were the alarm calls of chital.

Speaking generally, these astounding forests of physiognomic features formed through combinations and associations of different species - especially teak-dominant stands mixed with other tree species - were excellent representations of the South Tropical Moist Deciduous and Dry Deciduous Forest types. These large forested expanses along with numerous small and large water bodies and physiographical features had also resulted in remarkable wildlife habitats. My managerial responsibilities and research activities during my tenure would involve numerous forays into these two timeless protected areas. Among the mixed species, I also remember having encountered pure patches of Indian laurel (Saja, Terminalia elliptica) and toxic gooseberry (Kari, Cleistanthus collinus) trees. I would, however, watch with interest the many apparels and moods of the teak with changing seasons. The lush green leaves would attain their full size and shape during the rains. The onset of autumn would then turn these leaves into a light bronze, and a reddish-brown. And the high winter would dry them completely, rendering them brittle. This colour transformation was caused by the infestation of the teak leaf skeletonizer (Eutectona machaeralis) larvae. Feeding upon leaf tissues, these larvae, with a life span of around 20 days, would ultimately reduce all these leaves gradually to mere reticulations of veins, robbing the trees of their former flamboyance. But it is actually nature that accedes to this phenological bane for these trees. By the spring, teak trees became almost bare, with their canopies so thinned in severe infestations that I could see across the forest without any obstructions.

First of all, I ensured that the sanctuary had a good working relationship with the local police and  public influencers. Kurai at that time was also a politically volatile place. This strategy stood me in good stead, and several instances of interface problems were solved amicably and in our favour at the very start.  Two young range officers of the south Seoni division were also posted at Kurai, and it was a tremendous advantage. Our cordial relationship was also reflected in the interactions between our staff.

We reiterated consensually that wildlife and habitat protection would be the top most priority among all conservation practices. While there was no village inside the sanctuary, several resistant villages almost at the boundary were a serious cause for concern.

We tried our best within our budgetary constraints, which had resulted in a lack of additional hands as watchers and anti-poaching squads. I consulted with beat guards and encouraged them to develop an intelligence network in several target villages by taking into confidence some ‘smart’ people. There were, of course, some minor trade-offs. While we could not catch offenders red-handed, on the basis of timely intel we did seize several series of many long series of animal traps laid out in the sanctuary for ungulates. Such continual moves discouraged habitual offenders to a large extent. The best outcome of this intel development was successful conviction of several people involved in the retaliatory killing of several animals during my tenure.

No doubt the teak, being a valuable and durable timber, also attracted illegal fellers. While a large number of petty offenders were caught regularly, some big seizures of teak poles and wild animal products from influential people of different villages created the right sensation for several months.

The relatively dry conditions in the sanctuary also required some permanent waterholes at potential sites for the widespread distribution of ungulates and their easy sightings. I would especially mention two such small earthen dams - probably Banjari and Kharona - in the old compartment number 84, contiguous to the national highway and just opposite the Dudhiya tank. Earlier, wildlife used to cross the national highway to the Dudhiya tank for water. This cross-over resulted in the deaths of ungulates by heavy traffic. With good water availability now in this compartment, such deaths had almost completely stopped. Blue bulls are generally regarded as wary of human presence, and their sighting was difficult. We ensured waterholes at some potential sites to encourage their small congregations. Meetings with villagers and action against erring cattle graziers helped us considerably reduce illegal grazing and utilization of waterbodies inside the sanctuary.

As per instructions in the range order book, I was required to personally go and inspect the sites of all cattle compensation cases and do the required paperwork, including taking down the cattle owner’s and grazier’s statements etc. It was difficult during the rains when there were sometimes two such sites far apart, and I had to leave the Bullet at some place and walk to these sites on foot. Such close inspections of these dead cattle and their immediate surroundings for evidence such as canine and claw marks, carnivore pugmarks, scat, feeding pattern etc. to know the cause of death proved interesting, enhancing my understanding of the hunting techniques of tigers and leopards. I also tried to understand the feeding behaviour of these two big cats. The tigers were clean eaters and first detached rumens from the body and put them on one side before starting to eat the protein rich muscular rump and hindquarters. The leopards, however, were rather messy, opening up the abdomen haphazardly and scattering the innards. I also remember having seen a calf stashed safely on a tree branch, but without the leopard that did it. Sometimes I could not suppress my guffaws, before giving graziers a piece of my mind, when they graphically explained to me how they had tried their best to shoo away the tiger or leopard with a wooden staff when the animal was attacking the cattle. When I had finished my paperwork, the owner or the grazier would also occasionally whisper that the beast was still sitting nearby waiting for us to leave the place. The benefit of being a greenhorn was that fear came afterwards, but confidence, however, was punctual!!

Every year, Wildlife Protection Week was celebrated with great fanfare. We set up a conservation exhibition in the range office compound at Kurai. Besides relevant attractive posters and models, we also invited drawings and paintings from local students for display. To attract people, especially the youth, to watch wildlife documentaries, we began showing Hindi blockbusters after these documentaries to ensure an impressive audience attendance for wildlife movies! Essay and drawing competitions and the consequent prize distribution by Pench sanctuary were also looked forward to with great anticipation every year.

At the time of my posting to Pench, I had only a theoretical understanding of a wildlife protected area. My eyes were rather untrained to appreciate fully that the sanctuary as a whole actually consisted of several biotic and abiotic components, each playing its own role in strengthening the entire system to ensure biological diversity and ecological stability in nature. Then, fortunately, came my assignment for training in Wildlife Management at the WII, Dehradun. However, the training coincided awkwardly with the date of my marriage, which, of course, did take place, making me a figure of fun throughout the training period! When I rejoined my posting, I realised that my way of looking at things had changed—especially my understanding of how different parts are so interconnected in the conservation entity. I began observing herd structures of ungulates, their movement patterns, and habitat utilization with renewed curiosity and interest. The availability of palatable species for grazing and browsing in different seasons across several habitat types was another aspect that also interested me.

I also began field studies for my Ph.D. along with my managerial responsibilities. My field tools were simple: binoculars, a pen, a clipboard with data collection sheets, and a pocket-sized notebook. The three intensive study sites were located in the sanctuary, the national park, and the Rukhad reserved forest around the forest rest house. I used to visit these sites to record my observations on wild animals and collect vegetational data, including phytosociological and biomass studies etc. Having seen the excellent use of binoculars at the WII, Dehradun, I had also started using this instrument from my Bullet, hides, watch towers, and makeshift tree platforms, especially close to waterholes and clearings. The training had already taught me what exactly to watch while watching a herd of animals. Watching stereoscopic views of these wonderful creatures was an unforgettable experience at that impressionable age of mine.  Naturally, I was especially mesmerized by tigers, their moods and movements, but I always took utmost care not to disturb them. They sometimes appeared too unnervingly close for my comfort.

Conservation photography at that time was rather nascent, and daily use of a camera in a protected area was regarded as a non-serious pursuit. I had used binoculars so frequently, especially for tigers, that I could not develop interest in photography for the rest of my career. Sounds rather bizarre. But, no doubt, photography now remains the most effective tool to document and monitor wildlife and their habitats. I doubt if I could ever have published anything without those excellent photographs shared by kind officers and colleagues.

Shri VB Saharia sir, director general of forests, MP, once made a night halt at the Rukhad forest rest house probably in 1992. Prior to coming back to MP as the head of the department, he had been director, WII, Dehradun, for some years. The next morning, he was taken on a field visit of the sanctuary. Watching a few sambar feeding on water reeds in the Dudhiya tank along the national highway, our small convoy of vehicles entered through the Dudhiya barrier of the sanctuary. Moving slowly ahead and enjoying a small herd of bison, suddenly his eyes fell on a wooden post announcing a coup number and marking operation therein. His vehicle stopped, and some discussion arose among officers. I later came to know that he was questioning the wisdom of marking and felling trees in the sanctuary. Anyway, it was probably the last instance of production forestry in the protected area. Prior to this incident, a three-tier system worked in the sanctuary wherein, as per the existing working plan of the division, the territorial staff of respective forest compartments within the sanctuary was responsible for coup marking operations and handing them over to its production counterpart for felling and transportation.

Probably it was also some time in 1992, when Shri Arin Ghosh sir, director of Project Tiger, arrived at Karmajhiri. The following day I accompanied the superintendent sir to call on him. He had actually come with a small team to appraise the national park and finalise the proposal to declare it the 19th tiger reserve of the country. We had already introduced ourselves to him, and some discussion ensued later. Being out of my jurisdiction, I was rather relaxed and not attentive to what was being discussed. Suddenly, Ghosh sir turned to me and asked why this national park should be declared a tiger reserve. I was startled for a few seconds before fumbling out something like “the park is a representative wildlife ecosystem, with a perennial river in a teak and mixed forest, and well protected for tigers”. As he did not say anything, I later evaluated my answer rather generously as at least half-right!

As mentioned earlier, I used to visit parts of the Rukhad reserved forest adjoining the Dudhiya tank, and also areas along the Rukhad-Sakata road, including some contiguous compartments of the Kurai range. I found that these areas had tremendous potential for wildlife, as they harboured good populations of bison, chital, and sambar.  Besides, they also facilitated great sightings of tigers and leopards. At that time, I consulted a map, but now my memory fails me as to how I calculated the probable area of around 60 sq. km. In 1988, I wrote an article for a Dehradun-based journal, and mentioned therein that this area should be included in the sanctuary. I am happy now for this extension, even after so many years - better late than never. The credit goes to senior officers of our state for their persistent efforts.

Now Pench is a case in point that wildlife conservation success is a moving target as far as protected area management is concerned. Targets can keep shifting across time and space, as nature is known for throwing new challenges, some still incomprehensible, as a result of a number of factors, especially biotic ones, affecting protected areas. Besides, advances in conservation science and management have also helped us gain new insights and set or revise area-specific conservation goals and objectives. Some of them could be local, nuanced and subtle, while others ambitious and popular, involving certain wildlife species and other protected areas under the concept of proactive wildlife management. Over the past six decades, the Pench ecosystem has already undergone various conservation phases: consolidation, protection, stabilization, and restoration etc., contributing tremendously to its overall physical, biological, and ecological health.

It is so heartening to note that these two conservation entities have achieved considerable success in both - wildlife population recovery and the restoration of critical habitats. This wonderful achievement is undoubtedly the result of the sustained and cumulative efforts of several successive teams of officers and frontline staff over all these years. Between 1982 and 1992, the tiger and leopard population ranged only from 28 to 36 and 15 to 24 respectively, whereas the latest All-India Tiger Estimation (2022) recorded 77 tigers over one year of age and 132 leopards. The tiger reserve is also reported to support the highest abundance of ungulates in central India. This is all great, but, as they say, conservation is not an achievement but a commitment!!

Thus, all these precious years of my learning and experiences at Pench came to an end in 1993. My next and final posting to the wonderful Kanha tiger reserve, however, was still a year away. Already counted among the finest protected areas in the world, and getting receptive to new ideas and technologies, Kanha would involve me in, and allow me to bear witness to, some of the most effective and scientifically informed wildlife conservation practices for the remainder of my career.