When the mountains moved...

The fading light on the western horizon manifested the imminent arrival of the darkness of the night that would soon engulf the jagged mountains. The formidable mountains always stood stark and motionless, as if standing witness to the long chain of events shaping this remote landscape. Sometimes though, it seemed as if the mountains spoke, as if there was a soul hidden deep beneath the rock and shale faces that had jutted out some 70 million years ago when the Indo-Australian and the Eurasian plates collided to give birth to the Himalayas.

 

Twilight in the mountains. A Buddhist prayer flag and a mountain peak visible in the foreground.

When the spring knocks at the door of the mountains, the flowers bloom and a riot of colours commences. The furious wind turns into a warm-gentle breeze, while the butterflies hop from flower to flower in search of the elixir. The blue sheep graze leisurely in the lush green meadows and all life forms seem to enter some idyllic lull, enjoying the fleeting warm weather and a short period of bounty, in an otherwise harsh landscape.

The period of bounty and salubrious climate.

Come winter and the landscape is completely transformed. The greenery vanishes and the white snow covers the mountains and meadows as far as the eye can see. One thing however does not change; the mountains keep nurturing and nourishing a variety of life forms as they have done for millennia.

A lone Blue sheep looks over from the gradual-rolling meadows. The meadows support wild ungulates as well as the livestock of the people.

An hour had passed since the last rays of the fading sun had vanished from the face of the tallest peak; Mount-Kanamo, a beautiful and distinct mountain at approximately 6000 meters.

Mount Kanamo, a beautiful mountain peak located at approximately 6000 meters.

With sun going down, the temperature had plummeted down to 15 below zero. Amitayus (the snow leopard), was still resting in the cliffs inside the Badang nullah soaking up the comforting heat from the warm rock surface. The wind was gradually picking up and the exposed rock surface would soon be bereft of its latent heat and the comfort it provided. After a while, Amitayus felt the incessant, cold wind pounding on his battered, weather beaten face. Being the dominating giant that he was, he had lost his long-thick tail during a skirmish when a younger, somewhat arrogant male had dared to challenge his authority over his mountain kingdom. That furry tail would have provided some respite from the cold wind, but that was not an option now. Deciding that discretion was the better part of the valour, Amitayus moved a bit deeper inside the cave beneath the overhanging cliff.

“A Snow leopard’s tail is as long as the length of its body and provides balance while negotiating treacherous terrain. It is also often wrapped around the face while resting to protect against the wind and cold. Interestingly, local people believe that snow leopards carry their kills over their backs, wrapping it with the tail to keep it from falling”

Ten years had passed since Amitayus was born in these mountains. No one knew where exactly he was born, but Amitayus had faint memories of being chased away rudely and incessantly by the mother without any rhyme or reason. He had travelled miles, hiding from other dominant males, often going hungry for days and occasionally stealing a sheep or goat from an unwary herder. The tiring and dangerous journey had lasted several weeks till he finally settled down and started marking a small 80 square kilometer area as his home.

The snow leopard landscape. Meadows, cliffs, gorges and ridgelines along with the towering peaks form home to the most mysterious cat of the high mountains.

The night was cold and chilly but Amitayus had eaten well and half a carcass of a blue sheep still lay in the cave. There was nothing to be worried about at least for a couple of another days. The only thing that had troubled him today was a restless young chap with big snow boots, a bag slinging on his back and a pair of binoculars stuck perpetually on his face. The fellow had been too close today and kept scanning the mountain slopes with unceasing zeal. To the surprise and relief of Amitayus he appeared to have not a clue that he was lying there, right under his nose. Finally with the onset of the night, the fellow had decided to give up and retreat, but not before building a cairn on the narrow trail that Amitayus would have to use, to walk out of the cliffs and over to the rich meadows of Gete, where blue sheep grazed in plenty.

Having spent the entire day lazing around, the fall of the darkness seemed to nudge Amitayus to take a small stroll on the cliffs. He was also curious to see what business this fellow who did not look like a Buddhist monk had constructing cairns. The cairns and colourful prayer flags were the hallmark of this Buddhist landscape and there was nothing to worry about them.

Buddhist prayer flags with prayers inscribed on them are thought to spread goodwill and well-being in seven cardinal directions.

To the utter surprise of Amitayus, the cairn emitted a gentle red glow the moment he approached it and the glow became more intense, the closer he approached. He had never seen a cairn like this before, but it did not seem to do any harm either. Satisfied with the exploration, Amitayus returned to the relative safety and comfort of the cave, where to his great displeasure, a red fox was making good of his precious food. Chasing it away, he stretched himself, yawned and then sprawled over, gazing at the star studded bright sky. He drifted into the memories of his childhood when he did not have to worry about either food or shelter as there was a mother to provide for all of it. He could hardly remember the face of the mother or that of the other siblings, but one thing he still remembered clearly; the stars were the same then as they were today. Lingering in the sweet thoughts of whatever he remembered of his childhood, he drifted away to sleep.

Night in the Himalayas. Twin mountain peaks, a village nestled within and the starlit sky provide a magical quality to the night.

Meanwhile Thinley despite scanning the mountains all day had not succeeded in even getting a glimpse of a snow leopard. He had returned to the base camp cold, tired and hungry. Next morning he decided to intensify his search for snow leopard signs and scats as he planned to deploy more of those cairn disguised camera traps for better monitoring of snow leopards.

He also hoped that this wandering around might one day bring him close to a snow leopard! With the help of other knowledgeable villagers and livestock herders, who had intimate knowledge of snow leopard movements, Thinley had managed to identify several places where the snow leopard would pass and a covert camera would record its presence. On a similar reconnaissance trip one day, he had spotted a horse in a meadow, lying about 200 meters from an overhanging cliff. He quickly pulled out his binocular from his sling bag and was thrilled to see a snow leopard lying next to the dead horse. Though he had seen snow leopards a couple of times before, this was the first time that the cat with the uncanny reputation of melting away in the mountains, lay right in front of his eyes. Thinley just could not take his eyes off the beautiful cat with the smoky grey coat adorned with dark-grey rosettes. He could no longer resist taking a few more steps to see the cat up and close. Taking one cautious step a time he gradually moved forth. At one point, the snow leopard raised its head and stared at Thinley, but he was undeterred. A few more steps and the cat crouched besides the dead horse, baring its long-sharp canines. This aggression shook Thinley and he decided to retreat his steps, but not before he have had a good look at the snow leopard. The small stump in place of a long thick tail struck him and would remain etched in his memory forever.

Amitayus photographed by an automatic motion sensor camera in the winter of the year 2008.

Throughout their range in Central Asia, which is spread across thirteen countries, there is not even a single instance of a snow leopard killing or injuring a human being. It is astonishing that a cat that can bring down a full grown horse would not harm human beings.

The waning of flowers was signaling a retreating spring and the onset of a short autumn, which would then soon give way to a long-harsh winter. People in the villages were busy harvesting their precious crops of commercial green pea and the traditional barley.

A village in the Trans-Himalayas with its crop of barley. Besides being a nutritious food, barley has high religious-cultural value and is the primary ingredient of the traditional brew.

Thinley and his team were running around in the mountains, deploying camera traps at the strategic locations they had marked out earlier. Thinley was particularly excited as he hoped that these cameras would be a window to the world of that stump tailed cat that had one day left him stunned with its beauty and courage. He and his team would set out early in the morning, maintaining their delicate balance on the ridgelines, while the furious wind threated to uproot them and fling them down into the yawning gorges. Memory cards brought back from cameras far and wide revealed several beautiful cats that had posed in front of the cameras. The team was particularly thrilled to see a female with two playful, cuddly young ones.

Amitayus was ubiquitous and was found to cover a large area which included the area covered by the female with cubs. Probably he had sired those cubs, but one could not be sure. The effort was rewarding enough for the team to continue with for years, and year after year, Amitayus kept gracing the cameras.

While surfing through some of the recent photographs that the team had brought back, Thinley’s keen eye noticed the battered and tired face of Amitayus. Also the camera traps revealed that numbers of places that he often visited and had formed a part of his large kingdom were now reduced to a handful. The entire team was now a worried lot. Thinley’s natural cheeriness seemed to have evaporated into the thin mountain air and the once mischievous eyes now gave out a dull, sad look. Without anyone noticing, he was making four trips a month to each of the cameras instead of the usual one. He found it difficult to express himself and make anyone understand why he would be so worried about one particular snow leopard when there were many others around. The two cubs had again appeared in front of one of the cameras and a faint smile donned his face when he saw that they were growing bigger and more mischievous, this time running after a bewildered adult blue sheep male.

Two of the snow leopard cubs, growing older and bolder. NCF-SLT camera traps have been monitoring these two cubs and their mother since the year 2009.

The report of livestock killings which had surged in the past four months had trickled down substantially. Thinley had made sure that all such killings were swiftly compensated as deep down he worried that it was the now old and weak Amitayus, who was killing livestock. Belonging to the same community, he knew that pushed to the brink, the herders sometimes would not hesitate to take extreme steps to protect their valuable livestock. On such occasions he often tried hard to ascertain the identity of the snow leopard and in his conversations with herders, he would often invoke the great teaching of Lord Buddha and the right of every life form to exist. Deep down, he silently prayed for the well-being of Amitayus and other snow leopards.

Buddhist prayer motifs. Often used in the rituals of the dead, these beautiful mud idols are created in thousands and are left in the natural caves or poured into the streams.

On a bitterly cold winter morning, some monks on their way to a meditation cave found a snow leopard buried deep in the snow. Thinley’s heart missed a beat before he rushed to the spot, running and falling in the knee deep snow. After a while, his limbs refused to move even an inch and the cold mountain air choked his lungs. Never before had he felt so weak and helpless in these mountains. Somehow he managed to drag himself to the last 200 meters before he crashed on his knees just where the beautiful, but now motionless snow leopard lay. The monks’ lips were rolling out silent prayers for what is regarded as the most mysterious creature of the high mountains.

Amitayus graces a camera again in the winter of 2010. This was the last we saw of him before the mountains embraced him in their lap.

In Buddhist culture, such as in the Dolpo region of Nepal, the snow leopards are considered as mountain deities, extending protection to the sacred mountains and the people. Old scriptures believed to be a 1000 years old, mention a great yogi named Drutob Senge Yeshe who arrived on a flying snow leopard to convert a dreaded mountain God to Buddhism. The mountain God resisted and a battle ensued. The snow leopard on seeing the mountain God assisted by snakes, reproduced itself one hundred and eight times and finally helped the yogi overcome the fearsome mountain God. Similarly the great yogi Milarepa to confound his enemies resorted to his black Nyingma-pa Tantra, transforming himself to a snow leopard at Lachi-Kang (Mount Everest).

…..The Snow Leopard (Peter Matthiessen)

A tear trickled down Thinley’s eyes as he recognized Amitayus, the snow leopard that had once sent him back on his feet, challenged his courage and enthralled him with its grandeur. He looked at the towering mountains around him, as if seeking an answer. But there were no answers; the mountains were silent as they always have been for millennia. With heavy hearts, everyone finally returned to the nearest monastery. Just then a deep rumble rented the frigid mountain air…as a huge avalanche came crashing down and buried Amitayus deeper, much deeper in the snow…

The mountains had moved.

Eyes in the wilderness: glimpses from rooftop of the world

Imagine yourself in a landscape so vast that you feel like a tiny, trivial mass crawling through an unending mosaic of rock, moraine and snow. A place where the mountains kiss the clouds, the sky is truly blue and when the darkness of the night shrouds the mountains, the dazzling stars appear to descend on the earth.

The crisp mountain air and the stunning panoramas can take your breath away; quite literally as low oxygen levels at 4000 meters and above leaves one gasping for air. But the silver lining is that one can see for miles, the view being obstructed only by the mountains themselves and none else. The vista’s that the trans-Himalayan cold desert offers are bewitching. Nature lovers who care to venture beyond the typical hill stations are bound to be rewarded with the delightful visual bounty.

Trans-Himalyan Landscape

When the prospect of being in such a landscape arose for me, I was overjoyed. But the opportunity for me had an added allure, the allure to study one of the most mysterious creatures of the high mountains. Cats had long been my passion and here was an opportunity to study the enigmatic snow leopards, the most beautiful of big cats. The spring was approaching and it was an opportune time to explore the landscape. As I quickly scrambled my most basic of gear, I noticed the old 10 × 42 binoculars lying in one corner. They would be the most useful companions; I pondered and quickly placed them inside a roll of cotton shirts.

When I reached Shimla, a group of people from Kibber village had already arrived to do some shopping for the newly rented house that would serve as office cum base camp. Amongst the group of people was Sushil Dorje a man of immense knowledge and passion for mountains. He would also be my guide and teacher in the mountains for the time to come. After spending a night in Shimla and another night in Rampur, we embarked upon our long jouney to Kaza, a small tourist town that also serves as the district headquarter for Spiti. Sherpa an old hand was on the steering and I could not help but admire his skills as he deftly maneuvered the Tata Sumo over the un-metaled serpentine roads, carved on the flanks of fragile mountain slopes. Even a cursory glance down the gorge was unnerving. After three punctures, a broken suspension and a forced halt at Chango (now famous for its apples) we finally reached our destination at Kaza. Thanks to the barley brew offered generously by a host in the evening, the nerves were soothed and anxieties drifted away, only if momentarily, like clouds carried swiftly by a tempestuous wind. Next day, we reached Kibber village our base camp at 4200 meters and 20 kilometers away from Kaza. After acclimatizing for a few days, I started exploring the landscape around me, accompanied by Sushil and young Chuppel who was my prospective field assistant.

A plateau with gentle terrain of flat meadows and rolling hills. 

The postcard perfect pictures of the landscape create an impression of a gentle rolling terrain; a fine place may be even for a morning jog. But nothing can be further from reality than this. On our first long hike, while Sushil walked non-chalantly, stopping near a rocky outcrop or a cairn to rest and to smoke, I would be invariably trailing behind by a few hundred meters. As we climbed higher, the BSNL network gingerly showed up on my mobile as if apologizing for its inexplicable absence in the heart of village. I called up a few friends and resumed the uphill trek. After a few minutes, we were negotiating a difficult crag. As I moved inch by inch, drops of sweat had formed on my brow, even though it was cold and windy. I resolved to enroll for a mountaineering course and informed Sushil about my intentions. It’s a good idea; he remarked and kept walking. Day after day the magnitude of obstacles would go on increasing as would the length of tracks. Usually quiet on the treks, Sushil would become chirpy the moment a wildlife sign especially that of a snow leopard was discovered. We walked on the very paths that snow leopards walked on. Discerning their pugmarks, scrapes and scent marks on overhanging cliffs, Sushil would estimate their approximate age and the likely direction the snow leopard might have taken while I tried to relate all this to its big brethren, the tiger. We were making good progress, but there was a long way to go.

Placing camera traps in a large area necessitated that we pack our bags and camp out in the mountains for prolonged intervals. Villages close to our area of operations always assisted generously with manpower, accommodation and information on wildlife. Their knowledge of the mountains and the boundless hospitality is remarkable. While camping out in the mountains, Kesang, one of my field assistants would invariably find a flat piece of stone that would serve as a pan to cook thick, but delicious chapattis.

Huddled around the fire with temperatures rapidly dropping to subzero and a fading evening light throwing long shadows of the mountain peaks, we would quickly plan for the next day and then invariable hit the sleeping bags.

Two months had passed by, my skin had tanned, the belt had to be tied an extra inch and we had placed twenty camera traps in locations we suspected snow leopards would pass by. There were just a few more cameras to be deployed. “We made good progress, but not too many sightings of wildlife”, I remarked a bit sadly.

A herd of blue sheep in a meadow

They would begin to increase now onwards remarked Sushil, in his usual nonchalant manner. But why would it improve now that we are returning to the base camp and will be making only occasional forays in the mountains for monitoring these cameras and a few surveys for the wild prey of snow leopards, I questioned. Now you have a set of thirty eyes spread across the length and breadth of this landscape. No one else ever had that. It was metaphorical, but it was a profound statement and I had not then imagined the wonders that these secret eyes in the wilderness will bring back to us. The camera traps allowed us an unprecedented opportunity to have a glimpse into the life of the wildlife of the mountains; a glimpse unhindered and natural. 

The rendezvous began with the first monitoring of cameras and continued till winters when snowfall coupled with the risk of avalanches began hindering our access to some of the study sites. Camera traps provided us remarkable documentation of some of the rare creatures and equally rare events in nature.

The first was a sequence of photographs of a female snow leopard and her two grown up cubs chasing a blue sheep. The first cub was followed by the mother who in turn was followed by another cub. Perhaps she was teaching the cubs one skill they would need the most once they were independent; the skill of being a successful hunter.

Biologists often rely heavily on scats to estimate snow leopard diet and their numbers using the molecular genetic techniques. But scats that were thought to be that of a snow leopard would often turn out to be that of a canid. This was puzzling and the puzzle was resolved when one of the cameras recorded a red fox relieving herself on the very spot where a snow leopard had deposited its scat a few days ago. Seems like the fox wanted to challenge the mighty snow leopards and mock the researchers who claimed to understand their biology!

The funniest creatures however were the sturdy yaks with their thick shaggy coats. Often they would spend hours in front of a camera trap munching and nibbling on some invisible blades of grass around camera traps. I would curse the yaks for draining the precious batteries and filling the valuable space of the memory cards with their constant munching.

To add to my woes, one of them would often decide to spend the night in front of the camera. With cameras programmed to take pictures without cease and every second, I would have to wade through thousands of pictures of yaks. I could not afford not to look at each of them for the fear that one of them might have recorded a snow leopard as well. With their use in ploughing, transporting goods and as a source of meat, yaks are valued by the local people. The cursing didn’t go well with yaks and they extracted revenge by dislodging one of my cameras and bringing down the stone cairn that hosted it. Thankfully the camera on the other side was left untouched and that’s how we knew the culprits.

The cameras also secretly photographed a marten out on perhaps a dinner date on a romantic moonlit night while we lead a frugal existence huddled in the tents.

The majestic Ibex seemed to refuse to fear snow leopards and were often recorded treading the same path as that of a snow leopard.

Blue sheep seemed wiser spending most of their time in the lush green meadows, though never far from a cliff in case the need for a quick escape would arise.

A golden eagle once landed in front of a camera, recording a splendid self-portrait, while another camera trap recorded a young wolf rolling in the snow.

Wolves are very rare in this landscape and finding one in one of our camera traps was a sure surprise.

Village dogs have become a conservation problem in this landscape as dogs not only kill the livestock of local people resulting in economic losses, but also kill blue sheep, the primary prey of snow leopard. Till recently, it was difficult to determine how far from the village, these dogs were ranging.

Camera traps have now revealed that the dogs range far and wide in this landscape which is a cause for concern. One day while I was having a conversation with one of my local friend in a village, I discovered another advantage to conservation from camera traps. My friend told me that the camera traps have deterred a few mischievous people from capturing blue sheep. The fear of being captured in hidden camera traps had kept them at bay.

The camera trap eyes were neutral observers, recording whatever came their way without favour or prejudice. Children and elders would be equally curious when they encountered a camera trap and gradually they are learning more about this work through the conservation outreach and education programs of the Nature Conservation Foundation.

The cameras however recorded a beautiful portrait of one man along with his two gorgeous horses. That was the man who had monitored a few of them through the summers and the winters ensuring that they worked flawlessly. He was the camera trap guardian. 

Note: An edited version of this article was published in GEO. May 2013. Pages: 26-29