Chatting with a knowledgeable forest official recently, I was heartened to hear that the Eravikulam National Park just outside Munnar now boasts of as many as five tigers. However, what really elated me was his revelation that three tigers have also been found in ‘Mannavan Shola’ at the far end of the town —a forested area hitherto believed to be devoid of the big cat. This truly encouraging scenario had emerged from the surveillance cameras (or camera traps, as some term them) installed in local wildlife habitats.
Munnar and its environs have long been known to harbour a minuscule number of tigers. In 1954 one was shot in Eravikulam according to an entry in the yellowing Visitors’ Book. Then one night in 1970 a local planter sat up over a ‘kill’, believing it to be that of a leopard—and ended up shooting a tigress. Tragically, this happened just two years before the total ban on shikar was enforced in 1972.
Nevertheless, the resilient tiger continues to resurface in Munnar from time to time, buoying up the spirits of avid nature-lovers like me. In 2012 an ageing tiger attacked a female tea picker in broad daylight. In the ensuing melee, with other workers rushing to her rescue, the big cat was fatally injured. Providentially, the plucky woman survived and is back at work.
A year later two tiger cubs were found one morning in a tea field just outside Munnar, abandoned by their mother who was apparently unnerved on seeing a group of workers approaching. The cubs were dispatched to the Periyar Tiger Reserve in Thekkady. I also recall the bloodied remains of a cow killed by a tiger in a neighbouring estate in 2004. Apart from its pugmarks, I found numerous strands of the predator’s tawny hair on the adjacent bushes. Seeing me tarry over the ‘kill’, my anxious guide wryly urged me to move on—if I didn’t want to be part of the feline’s next meal!
Truly, no sound can be more terrifying than the deep-throated growl of a tiger—which I once heard, repeatedly and unforgettably, while trout-fishing near Munnar. My blood froze as the growls drew closer and the undergrowth snapped as the beast menacingly bulldozed its way to the water. My companion and I fled to the safety of our jeep—the big cat clearly didn’t want any spectators around!
Cowering, we soon heard the distinct slurping of water—rather too close for comfort—with only a dense swathe of mist shielding us from the tiger.
Email: gnettomunnar@rediffmail.com