Wild Assam 2018: Episode Manas

“Yesterday, I was dropping another tourist party to New Bangaigaon. I offered them to visit Kakoijana for Golden Langurs. But after excellent hornbill sighting in Manas, they were so elated that they ignored my suggestion. Now I think they made a mistake” – while driving his Sumo towards Barpeta Road, Saiful commented.

We just had some excellent tête-à-tête with Golden Langurs at Kakoijana. Our young driver, Saiful was a witness. But we were not averse to hornbills at all. In fact, one of our target was to photograph three species of hornbills in Manas. So we were all ears to Saiful.

“In evening, behind Mathanguri bungalow, lot of hornbills are flying from Bhutan to roost on India side for the night. Four days back, I took a Gypsy for safari. I personally sighted a large flock.” We made a mental note to plan accordingly.

The usual Manas drill started from Barpeta Road. Getting booking slip from Beat Officer Kripa Nath, having a quick brunch at ‘Maa Durga Misthan’, buying drinking water and dry snacks for three days – all happened in quick succession.

The road from Barpeta Road to Banshbari was eaten up by River Benki – thus we had to take diversion. Ali, who accompanied us a year back with his gypsy, was waiting for us near the range office. We completed forest entry formalities with the help from Beat Officer Pintu Sarkar, and entered the park.

Manas looked different comparing to last year. Silk cotton trees had fewer flowers. The dry grass was abundant. Ali informed - since the rain stopped late, grass was still not burnt. A family of capped langur sat on a tree nearby. A Malayan Giant Squirrel jumped from brunch to brunch. Slightly away, a Crested Serpent Eagle sat on a tree giving us ample opportunity to photograph.

At Mathanguri, River Manas looked same – flowing calmly, emitting pacifying sound that would give us company at dark nights. But a less pacifying surprise waited for us. Despite booking slip, because of in anticipation of VIP movement, no room will be given to us. I lost temper. Soon room number 6, the same room where we stayed a year back, was opened. The sheets were new; room was cleaner than last time. Apparently there was some merit in VIP movement.

We would not have enough time for a decent safari this afternoon. Also the sky was turning cloudy. Thus Ali and I decided to check the hornbill spots. We crossed the international border and drove towards Panbong. The spot was reached where a cut from the road went towards the river. Keeping the gypsy there, we walked. And true to the words of other observers, we started to see many hornbills. All were of Great Indian variety. Sensing our presence, some of them flew away in pairs. We decided to check the river for the Mergansers. None found. We walked back to gypsy and drove towards the bungalow.

On our way, near a turn, another gypsy was standing with a bunch of Maharashtrian birders. Their guide waived us towards a leafless dry tree bit far away on the slope. A group of at least 10 pairs of Wreathed Hornbills were roosting on it. Wow!

It started to drizzle. There was hardly enough light available. We needed to go. The Great Indian Hornbills were not going anywhere. Some of them sitting over the trees overlooking the river, entirely unfazed by the rain droplets.

***

By quarter to six in the morning, Ali and I were back near the roosting tree. Light was still low. But we found only two pairs of Wreathed Hornbills sitting there. After few more minutes they also left. Great Indian Hornbills were still around though. A Barking Deer was roaming under an Indian almond tree. The river was flowing quietly.

Gobindo Bodo, our forest guard, was waiting for us at his quarter. Gobindoda was an excellent wildlife spotter and accompanied us last year. He was full of jungle stories with deep practical knowledge of it. It was good to see him again. He offered broad smile, recognizing us. Tum and I sipped on tea, quickly supplied by him. A family of Capped Langurs had their breakfast on the tree above.

Our target was Bengal Florican. The grass near Rupahi Camp at Bhuiapara range had been cleared thus providing excellent chance to see this critically endangered bird.

On Bansbari Road we met with another Barking Deer. The ravine, where Sambars roam, was empty now. We took left and left again to go towards Doimari, an arduous and long road towards Bhuiapara range.

Initial hour was driven through dark vegetation. Tigers usually frequent here. We saw Red Jungle Fowl, Green Imperial Pigeon, Wedge Tailed Green Pigeon, and Chestnut Headed Bee-eater. Suddenly we discovered an elephant herd blocking our road. A toothless male and a female kept a calf in between. The male started shifting one of his front leg, a sign of his annoyance. We stopped to maintain a respectable distance. They moved into jungle.

Near the river bed Great Indian Hornbills were present. Pug marks were visible on the dry river bed. Fresh undoubtedly, as they overrode the last evening’s rain marks on the sand.

River Doimari. River Lapwings hopped from boulder to boulder. The camp beside the river had lost its toilet to the elephant invasion. Now they kept tin sheets at the ground to get alert when pachyderms or other animals approached. A wireless set was emitting forest conversations mixed with static noise, the only connection to the civilization to a couple of hapless foresters on casual employment.

A new road had been constructed connecting the camp to Rupahi grassland. Driving comfort was marginally better at the cost of more dust from the new road. Fortunately, ours was the solitary gypsy around.

There was another stream to be crossed to reach the grassland. A pair of Brahminy Ducks stood at the bend. A Crested Serpent Eagle was watching them from the silk cotton tree. We crossed the stream through shallow water.

We saw a pair of male Floricans on our left. But they were way far away. For want of a better shot, we moved closer – they flew. We spent next 40 minutes at the top of Rupahi Camp watch tower. Only dots of Floricans were seen.

The camp dwellers told us to come back by 3 PM, when usually they come closer to the camp. We were doubtful if such a long distance could be covered again in the afternoon without missing other attractions.

Crossing River Rabhanama would help us to cross to Banshbari range quickly. But the water level was more than the gypsy could navigate. Thus we detoured and went outside of Park through the Bhuiapara range office. An Ahom marriage procession passed through us. Another 15 KM to Banshbari.

Near Banshbari gate, a small eatery run by a Bodo family would serve us lunch. There came rice, dal, vegetables, salad. A dish of Bhangan fish cooked with starfruit in traditional Bodo style followed. A traditional Bodo scarf was bought as a souvenir before setting off to Park again.

On Banshbari Road we followed the Rufous Necked Laughing-thrushes in vain. A right turn taken. Over a silk cotton tree a large flock of Red-breasted Parakeets examined naked branches in the hope of interesting insects. Intermittent Jungle Flame (palash) trees proved propriety of their names with a proud bloom of fiery orange flowers. We took right turn again to check Kurhibeel camp for Floricans. No news of them in the afternoon.

We turned towards north. After crossing Bangali-Haat-Dhuwa camp, mammal activities increased. A female Guar standing beside the road, stared at us with innocent eyes. She moved inside jungle to meet other members of her herd. A male hulk followed her. Gaurs are fairly rare in Manas. Last year we failed to spot any. Happy souls we were! In a moment, we met a large Elephant herd munching on fresh shoots of grass. A sub-adult tusker stood nearest to us. They did not see us as threats and kept to themselves.

Light had started to lose its shine. Chestnut Headed Bee-eaters, Assamese Macaques, Crested Serpent Eagles were keeping themselves at tree-tops. Near Sarfuli, at fragmented water bodies, Lesser Adjutant Storks stood with keen concentration of an army private. We kept an equal keen look at the grass lands in search of Pygmy Hogs. Manas is the only natural habitat for these critically endangered cute and sensitive mammals. Alas, none of them were around.

We came back to Banshbari Road again and moved to other side of the range towards river. The place is called Latajhar. We walked over the boulders. Drift wood sat at river banks, over sand. A pair of Brahminy Ducks flew over with loud ‘quack’. Sun started to retire for the day behind the grassland on other side of the river, the Panbari Range. Mild breeze ruffled Tum’s brunette hair now uncovered from her large trekking hat.

The jungle was dense. A Pygmy Woodpecker was still active on a dead tree brunch. Without realizing we clicked a Blue Bearded Bee-eater in feeble light. We explored the possibility of spotting nightjars. And we were back near Sarfuli. Under looming darkness, Sambars and Gaurs roamed with glowing eyes.

Soon we were covered with pitch darkness. The gypsy headlights penetrated it mercilessly. The nocturnal world had woken up. Nightjar calls came. But none came to the road. Gobindo’s torch beam fell on a Civet Cat. Smell of popcorn flew. Was that from a Binturong nearby?

We completed a circle. The car stopped over a culvert. Engine was killed. So was headlights. Blinding darkness. Stiffening silence. And came an eerie call. A nocturnal bird. ‘Jamdakini’ or a ‘Death caller’ – whispered Gobindoda.

The bungalow was not too far away.

***

In the morning we set a plan for ourselves. Bhuiapara Range (again) in the morning in search of Floricans. In afternoon we would visit Bhutan side for Hornbills. And on our way from Bhuiapara to Banshbari we would search Malayan Giant Squirrels at the nests on tree tops.

Ali was desperate. He took a drastic decision to try crossing the Rabhanama river, which we avoided yesterday due to heightened level. Through some local intelligence Ali gathered it could be crossed on certain positions. In Manas, we leave such decisions to Ali.

The morning was foggy. Very few animals on the road. We crossed Sarfuli. Water Buffaloes did not want to disappoint us. We passed Osla camp keeping Bangali-Haat-Dhuwa camp on right, with vast grassland between. Rufous-Necked Laughing-thrushes were around. We spent some time chasing them.

Rabhanama came. Ali walked barefoot at the river to find the best way. Alas, he realized it could not be crossed. It was not that Ali’s intelligence was wrong. But some idiots driving tractors ruined the riverbank and it would be dangerous to drive through treacherous ravines created by their deep tyre marks at loose sands and soft mud.

We would need to go through the villages again. But before that, we crossed the grass land. Elephants and hog deer were oblivious of our disappointment in the morning.

The village road seemed longer. Our mood was gloomy. The mood further nosedived once we reached Bhuiapara Range office. They asked us to cough up the entry fees for the range. Without argument we paid it to save time. But it was quarter to nine already.

Drove out of Range office. Rupahi camp tower could be seen on the left. We turned to it. And yet another disappointment. In half furlong or so from a grass bush on our left, something big came out. A male Bengal Florican! We never realized from distance, how big it was actually. But before we could even think of taking a shot he flew away. With his excellent camouflage, he hid so well, that even Gobindoda’s super experienced eyes could not spot it.

The tower was crowded with load of photographers. All were training their lenses towards few Floricans moving like dots in radar. We could spot at least three males – but only one female. Such distance could only deliver a record shot. After twenty minutes, our fellow photographers got disappointed and moved on. We were alone.

Just when we were brooding over our bad luck, Gobindoda walked upstairs. He asked us to train our lens toward a male bird. It was far away. But Gobindoda’s theory was – with other tourists’ withdrawal; he would feel fewer disturbances and would move closer.

And close he came. He pecked and walked, pecked and walked. It took more than 30 min before we could take some decent shots. But then the bird decided to take rest at a tiny bush of dried grass. And there we experienced how well his camouflage could be. He practically vanished. His brown upperparts and black neck seemed like extension of grass with a burnt stem.

Under Gobindoda’s supervision we came downstairs and started to walk closer. We noticed a mark closer to the bush. Otherwise, we would have lost him in this vast flat grass land. We came about 20 meters from the bird, when he noticed us and walked up. I decided not to disturb him anymore and retired to the camp.

Sitting at tower staircase, over tea, we heard a sad incident this year. The rain stopped late, which delayed the yearly grass burning exercise. But the Floricans were already in their breeding season like every year. The fire destroyed quite a few nests along with some suspected females, who refused to move from their hatching eggs. With just thousand birds left in the wild, it was an immense loss.

Camp foresters gifted Tum some starfruits freshly plucked. We started our long journey back to Banshbari. At Doimari camp, we stopped for tea. Gobindoda delivered quite a few anecdotes. The most interesting was about the genesis of ‘Bangali-Haat-Dhuwa’ name. It was about a Bengali Forest Officer, who walked down to a stream to wash his hand. But he fell down and stuck at mud. After that hilarious incident, the camp took its name.

Crossing Doimari river took us near a place frequented by Great Indian Hornbills. A year back we saw them here. We were not disappointed either today. A pair soon came, but before we could take good shots at them, they flew away with loud swish of their huge wings.

Our next target in the list was Malayan Giant Squirrels. Last year, near Goruchara, we saw a beautiful specimen. But unfortunately could not photograph him. We saw a couple again near Mathanguri Bungalow. But because of bright backlight, no decent fames could be captured.

But today, certainly the Goddess of Luck blessed us. At Banshbari road, we were busy shooting a flock of scarlet minivets. Then Gobindoda spotted their homes, which looked like large ant nests made with leaves. And a fearless one appeared above our head. Like a professional model, he gave us ample opportunity to click.

In the morning Gobindoda mentioned a couple of Collared Falconets who regularly were visiting trees near his quarter nowadays. We searched them in vain. His colleague saw them around 11 AM.

But around the turn where the road took uphill to Mathanguri, I spotted a small bird perching on a tree stump. The lens revealed a handsome Collared Falconet.

After a quick shower and lunch, we drove towards Bhutan. The first bird on the left was again a Collared Falconet.

The Hornbill roosting trees were still empty. “Let us visit the river bank. That will give us ample clearance to see them once they start coming back from Bhutan” – Ali suggested. We all agreed. The gypsy was parked under a fig tree. Slightly ahead more cars were parked. From the dust cover, it seemed they stationed there for at least couple of days.

A boat sailed from Bhutan side. The ranger from Bhutan Royal Manas National Park alighted from the boat at the bank. Together we looked at a group of Wreathed Hornbills flying above us. But they were heading towards a far hill. The daily migration started.

After exchanging greetings and farewell we parted. Tum decided to take a boat ride. Gobindoda accompanied her. I kept a watch over the hornbills.

More and more flew in from Bhutan side. I took position near the fig tree behind a dusty Alto. At least three pairs of Great Indian Hornbills feasted at the tree. They plucked the fruit using their strong long beak, threw it slightly, before gulping it down. Any fruit missed and touched ground were ignored and not picked up.

Tum came back and we watched their show for some more time. On other side of the dirt road, one of them was trying to get cosy to a Capped Langur over a silk cotton tree. Another couple sat immersed in thoughts.

It was almost four o’ clock. We needed to station ourselves near the roosting tree. If our hypothesis was true, then the Wreathed Hornbills would come soon.

We parked the gypsy at an advantageous position by taking the liberty of the first mover. Soon a pair arrived. But they sat on a tree above us instead of the leafless roosting one. More pairs arrived. Unlike Great Indian Hornbills, who almost kept to themselves within the family, Wreathed Hornbills socialized with other families. Couple of males sat close giving the impression of an important man-to-man talk. Wives looked at them with contempt. Hard and stern looks could not be ignored and the boys went back to respective wives. Other gypsys arrived. But the light faded.

At dusk we drove to Paglidoha. There is a story behind the name of this place. A mentally imbalanced woman arrived here and started near a small pond here. Fearing her safety from wild animals, foresters had to put her in a car and left at Barpeta Road. But the place took the name from this mysterious appearance. It was a beautiful place among a small meadow. The road was full of beautiful blooms of Katanda flower.

We passed the Lower Mathanguri Bungalow and reached Khayerbari, another spot by River Benki. It was a dense forest earlier. But 2004 devastating flood made it thin. Nightjars started to call. We looked on the grassland at Panbari Range on other bank of the river.

Later, at the Upper Bungalow, Gobindoda came. Over cup of teas he shared some of his supernatural experiences.

Once he was alone in Mathanguri beat monitoring the wireless in the evening. It was raining heavily. Suddenly the door was knocked. He was taken aback, but pulled his rifle and opened the door. He saw a well-dressed man stood at the rain. Yet, his dress was dry. Feeling something wrong he closed the door. The rest of the night was uneventful.

On another occasion along with a colleague he was doing a round near Gandabil on bicycles. His colleague drank some local alcohol and turned typsy. Then suddenly his cycle was unmovable in broad day light. Initially unbelieving him because of his inebriated state, Gobindoda tried to pull it himself and failed to move it. Then remembering some local wisdom, he asked his colleague to pee on front wheel. The trick worked. They left the place immediately.

I shared with him our plan to sight wood ducks in Nameri, where we would visit tomorrow. He mentioned that a pair of wood ducks used to come near Kuribeel. But for last four years, he had not saw them. Wishing us luck he took leave.

***

A quick visit on Bhutan Road brought us near to Great Indian Hornbills again in the morning. We came back near Lower Bungalow. Two species of woodpeckers were around – Greater Flameback and Greater Yellownape. Capped Langurs kept on entertaining us at the courtyard through their daily chores.

Checked out from Mathanguri and drove towards Banshbari. Ali was not happy as he could not spot a Kalij Pheasant, which I asked day before yesterday. We were consoling him. He pulled the break suddenly and triumphantly pointed to a nearby bush. A male Kalij Pheasant was pecking around. We were as happy us the beautiful peacocks busking at bright rains near Banshbari Range office.

Quiet flowed the Manas. A new adventure began.