She’s a beauty (Yala 05/06/2010)

The jeep screeched to a halt as she materialized as if from nowhere. It had been a fruitless, dusty day in the park exacerbated by the fact that our only leopard sighting had been in the midst of a traffic jam that would have put Colombo to shame. As dusk descended over the dry wilderness we headed out of the park, jolting along as thoughts of a warm shower and the delicious bread at Tissa View occupied our thoughts.



I think Sumudhu was the most surprised out of all of us as she materialized as we passed Diganwalla. Possibly close to a year old (but then I’m no expert in aging leopards) she sat there looking mildly affronted at our hasty stop. She stared at us for awhile before getting up, stretching lithely and heading down to the water to drink.



At the water’s edge she put on what could only be described as a performance for us. Delicately, as though she didn’t want her pristine paws soiled by the mud she paced up and down and snarled at imagined threats in the water repeatedly until settling down to rapidly lap at the water.



What had seemed like a lost day suddenly turned into a perfect one, as the stunningly beautiful young leopard locked eyes with us. May she have many years of life as the supreme predator of Yala ahead of her.

On The Trail of the Leopard (Wilpattu, May 2010: Part 3)

Continued from here:

Of course while we were getting the full tour of the park we were also on the trail of the elusive leopard, the endless family yarns about fabulous sightings egging us on. We kept an eye out in the brush and white sand around the villus to no avail. My eyes burned as the green brush and twisted trunks flashed by the jeep and I stared out for that flash of black and gold. We frustratingly missed two leopard sightings on the jeep track by mere seconds, probably scared off into the bush by our engine, leaving only their pugmarks imprinted on the fine sand.

Pug marks in the sand

The adrenaline did rush one more time when we approached a group of grey langurs that had gotten spooked by something. Some of the animals were crashing around in the trees while others craned their necks, staring at something off the road that was obviously of great interest to them. We spent a breathless, hot hour parked watching the langurs as they simultaneously kept a watch on whatever it was in the brush that excited them and us. Finally the monkeys lost interest and moved on, indicating the leopard, if it was a leopard had also move on. The whole time we had been scanning the undergrowth with binoculars but it was simply too thick for anything to be seen.

Watchful Langur

On the outlook (Courtesy PP)

Exhausted as much by the anticipation as by the heat and grueling drive, we called it quits and regretfully left the park, driving through swirls of yellow butterflies that had congregated on the road. Wilpattu, on our first visit, kept her secrets well hidden. As the animals have still not been acclimatized, Wilpattu’s wilds and wildlife deserve many visits and you will have to work hard, very hard for your sightings. Assuming of course the park survives the unplanned depredations that are being visited upon it now.

Butterflies bidding us goodbye

Part 1

Part 2

The grid-locked leopard (Yala, 05/06/2010)

The phone beebed as Sumudu reached over and said he’s customary ‘Kiyanna!’ (translated loosely as What’s up). Looking back at us with a terse ‘Allagane’ we sped up as he drove through the dusty tracks to where a leopard had been sighted taking a snooze in a tree. A breathless ride later we came to a hurried halt in front off not a snoozing leopard, but a traffic jam in the jungle.

Traffic jam (photo courtesy PP)

Don’t get me wrong, I love Yala from the bottom of my heart, but sometimes the crowds can get on my nerves. The engines revving, the fumes and the loudness of the pissed off drivers all can be a bit much. I don’t really care if the leopard in question is doing a tango, dressed in a pink mini-skirt on a Palu tree, I simply have no patience for this kind of thing.

Sumudu trying to get the line moving (photo courtesy PP)

We stayed in line for what seemed an eternity, Sumudu trying to jostle a look see at a leopard that remained obstinately blocked by a bush in front of us. I made the best of a bad time by settling down for a small nap. Which considering the fact I had woken up at 4am was much welcomed.

Time for a nap (photo courtesy PP)

Finally getting to the head, or rather the middle, of the line we could see the leopard, through a haze of intervening branches, rather firmly ensconced on a branch showing no sign of getting up. Rather unexpectedly however it suddenly raised its head, resulting in a shudder of excitement through the audience and a crescendo of camera clicks. It nonchalantly licked itself a bit, gave us a stern glare turned around and went straight back to sleep.

 
Yawn, lick, stare

That was of course, our sign to move on and leave the sleeping, celebrity leopard to its admirers, while we searched on for a more peaceful encounter.


Fast asleep

The vertical leopard

For many moons the trackers at Yala used to urge us to keep an eye on the Palu trees, for apparently you would often see the tail of a leopard twitching in the tree tops. The higher elevations were favourite places for the elusive Panthera pardus kotiya (yes I’m showing off, I know the scientific name!) especially as the temperature in the park increased. Yet for all the supposed love for heights the leopards had, over a couple of decades of trips I never saw one in a tree.

December was when I first saw a leopard in a tree, a beautiful young cub. And on my next visit to Yala in January, it seemed all the leopards had suddenly decided to go aerial as a couple of hours into our round Sugathe our jeep driver got a call about a leopard up a tree near Vepandeniya on the Uraniya Loop. Pelting hell for leather there, what we initially came face to face was a line of vehicles. Unfortunately in Yala on the weekends, this is very much to be expected, so we resignedly took our place at the back and peered towards the Palu trees off to our left.


Sugathe, our regular jeep driver

Sure enough, a flash of gold and black beckoned from amongst the boughs. A beautiful, full grown female leopard was taking a break from the hot sun. As usual, the angle she was sitting at afforded the rather wonderful photographic opportunity of a leopard leg. So we patiently settled in to wait her out, hoping against hope than when she came down off the tree she would offer a decent photograph as a reward for our patience.


She shows some rear

The heat was cloistering as we waited, the rumble of engines and diesel fumes reeked every now and then as a jeep either gave up and left or another heard the news and rolled up. We were treated to a moment of comedy when a jeep rolled up to us and an earnest gentleman asked us whether we were looking at the leopard that was up in the tree. Taken up by the obviousness of this question, both S and I didn’t miss a beat as we replied in unison, ‘No! We’re looking at the other leopard!’ Our tracker and Sugathe had to stifle their laughter while the rest of our jeep rocked with mirth. Of course this was all in Sinhala which tends to add a musical eloquence to such silliness which is probably lost in translation.

 
Teases us with a couple of tantalizing glimpses

While we waited, we were treated to some irresponsible behaviour from the inhabitants of a jeep in front, who were flashing a mirror at the leopard, trying to get it off the tree. Unfortunately the trackers seem to be unable to keep this kind of behaviour under control. With the risk of sounding preachy it is imperative that those of us who visit these parks show the animals the respect that they deserve as we are in their habitat. The offending jeep was too far in front for us to be able to spot who was doing it but some of the drivers and trackers yelled out (well in a manner of speaking) asking them to stop bothering the animal.

It seemed like we would be there for ever, as the leopard showed no indication of moving a muscle, apart from the occasional twitch to shake a fly off. Then…luck struck. A herd of wild boar, oblivious to the leopard above their heads moved into the grove of Palu trees and through it. The leopard perked up, sat up and, as we trained our cameras, slipped down the tree trunk and leapt into the jungle in one fluid movement, accompanied by what could only be described as a mute roar of camera clicks.

 
In the blink of an eye, she comes down

As the leopard disappeared into the forest behind the wild boar, the jeeps all roared into action, reversing up to a fork of the road with everyone trying to figure out where the leopard went. Sugathe has been doing this for twenty years, and his experience showed. Ignoring the antics of the rest of the tourists, we drove slightly down another road and stayed put, Sugathe admonishing us to keep quiet.


Wild boar crossing

Sure enough, the wild boar broke through, the mothers scurrying their young piglets along, dust kicked up by their tiny hooves. As they crossed the road, the dust settled. Then a minute later, out of seemingly nowhere, the leopard stepped out onto the road. She looked over to us in curiousity before deciding that we were not worth getting worried about and stalked across the road, a feline princess of the jungle, beautiful in her glory. Well worth the wait


On the hunt, she crosses into the jungle

The Final Round (Yala for 31st - Part 5)

Our final round of the park and once again we decided to head down Gonalebe pare to see if the cub would ever deign to let us photograph it. Half way there we got confirmation via text that the cub was indeed up in a tree and getting to the spot we hit a major traffic jam. It looked like all the jeeps in the park had converged around the tree and tempers were flaring. One asshole in particular in a blue Nissan Patrol was being a complete idiot, blocking everybody’s way and showing complete disregard for anybody. My guess, seconded by the rest of the party was that he was probably a minister’s kid, especially since he was exceptionally rotund.

Disgusted by the congestion and choking in the fumes, we passed the cub in the tree, where only a portion of its rear end was visible, and turned around to leave…only to get stuck in another traffic jam on the way out. Resigning ourselves to being stuck there for the next 10 minutes, we idly looked up at the cub’s leg.

Serendipity then struck.

The cub decided to look up and then look at us. I excitedly started clicking, being in the absolute best position to take the shot. To my unbridled joy, it and then decided to get up and stretch. Through sheer luck and at the end of our tether, we had a grandstand view of what was a most beautiful young leopard.

The light was perfect and the clutter of the branches added just the right touch of the mysterious. I fired off my shots, bracketing to make up for the tricky light situation and changing focal points to blur out the clutter.

The young cub looked into the lens, alert golden eyes, coat shining in the late evening light and as the shutter clicked. I mentally patted myself on the back on having captured the spirit of Yala, the wild in its prime.

We couldn’t have asked for a better way to end the trip as we left the park in the late evening glow.

Pugmarks in the sand (Yala for 31st - Part 4)

The morning run began as last afternoons with two jeeps. This time however we decided to use two trackers with Nana coming with us. The jeeps split apart as we started quartering the park again for any interesting sightings. First up was a couple of rounds down Gonalabe to see what had happened to the leopard cub. Unfortunately a number of other people had the same idea as us and we met more jeeps than wildlife on the road.

On a search for solitude we decided to head down the Akasachayitya sub-route, which is fairly out of the way from the usual haunts in block 1. After a few minutes spent at the Gallukuda Weva, where an extremely photogenic white necked stork kept us company, we headed towards Akasachayitya.

White Necked Stork

Two things sprung out at us as we traversed the road. One was the isolation, not another jeep in sight, though the tracks indicated at least one jeep had gone before us. The other thing was the white sand of the road. The jungle didn’t hide its secrets on this road and all the travelers, big and small, had left marks to show their passing.

We came across an interesting story in the sand with slipper prints and boot prints interspersed with the jeep tracks. Not succeeding in our attempts to interpret what had taken place we moved on to be greeted by the excitement of fresh leopard pug marks in the sand. At one spot where a stream crossed the road, the pug marks stood out and were obviously fresh. At least one big leopard had followed the road, stopped for a drink and then moved into the bush. As our cab moved ahead through the stream, the pug marks were obliterated by the backwash.

Pug Marks

The music played again when we could see the pug marks of another leopard, smaller this time, that had moved along the road as well and we were on full alert. There was an exciting moment as a small herd of deer by the side of the road spooked at something and broke away through the brush, but our luck was not holding. Despite the lack of a sighting, the almost sighting and tracking of the leopards via their spoor was as exciting as any full blown sighting. I would highly recommend this stretch of road to any visitors to the park simply for the experience, despite the thick brush making sightings tough. The feeling of isolation is also a rare commodity in the park these days and is well worth the extra drive.

Excited Deer

On our exit back onto the patanas, we were lucky enough to see a white bellied sea eagle flying across our path and then a bit later an obtuse looking crested hawk eagle.

L-R: White Bellied Sea Eagle, Crested Hawk Eagle

A text then told us that a bear was on Patanangala rock, which she was. And what a bear, even from a significant distance away of about half a click, the size of the bear could not be understimated. She was huge and sitting in a most human fashion scratching herself.

Chillin' Bear

It was still relatively early but two days in the park and the mosquito induced lack of sleep had taken its toll. With aching tailbones we decided to call it a morning in order to get some rest and exited the park wondering what our last round yet to come would bring.

2pm Return (Yala for 31st - Part 3)

I greeted Nalin’s suggestion for getting back into the park at 2pm with some trepidation. For one thing we left the park only at 11.30 and taking into account the need for a shower, lunch and getting organized for heading back into the park, the prospects of a much needed afternoon nap receded into impossibility. A second jeep joined our group into the park and Nana rode with them. 

Did I mention Nana was a good tracker? His good judgment entered the realms of fantasy as on his instructions we turned Siyambalagaswala pare and surprised a leopard picking its way through the puddles on the road. The other jeep was in front of us and as we swerved behind it to get into position for a photograph the leopard (apparently) did a spirited leap over a puddle and bolted into the undergrowth. I say apparently because after a first glimpse of the leopard, I was so caught up in making sure my camera gear was ready I missed out on the acrobatics.

Inquisitive leopard

As both jeeps came to a halt, our luck held out. A beautiful female leopard stared suspiciously out as from the bushes as we clicked a few frames. She was a bit frisky though and didn’t stay for too long, moving off away from the road and into the bush. After hanging around to confirm that she wouldn’t be gracing us with her presence again we moved on. The bush was hot and dry as we drove slowly through the park, not much stirred due to the intense heat. Our drive was however briefly enlivened by a crocodile that apparently was into fashion, sporting a green halter top of algae and determined to take on the jeep in a game of chicken.

Fashionable croc

We swung back to Gonalabe pare to see if the leopard cub had returned. As we passed the thicket where it was thought to frequent, Nishan requested a quick reverse as he thought he had spotted something. I swear I saw something then that was golden coloured in the midst of the trees but as hard as we stared and stared nothing resolved itself out of the confusion. Finally we moved on and swung back to be greeted by a cavalcade of jeeps which had taken our spot that we had exited a few moments ago. Everybody much to our chagrin was excitedly staring at the cub that we had somehow missed out on. Disgusted at our incompetence and not wishing to get asphyxiated by the diesel fumes we moved swiftly onwards. A short while later we were provided a close up of an extremely stern looking Greater Adjutant stork, atop a rock on which I had on a previous trip seen a leopard.

Greater Adjutant Stork

Unfortunately our luck really seemed to run out at that point and the rest of the round didn’t come to much. A large bull elephant did provide some lively moments though probably not as lively as we would have liked, with him showing a complete lack of interest in charging. On a side note, is it just me or is there a serious dearth of elephants in Yala. I have very rarely seen any of the family groups that used to make the park rounds so interesting in the decades past with their infants and rambunctious aunts. These days it’s mostly a few older males and the (very) rare family unit that seems more intent on feeding than charging.

  We regretfully exited the park as dusk came down keeping in mind that one tracker between two jeeps was definitely not a good idea and making a mental note to keep stalking the leopard cub until we got some usable shots.

(To be continued)