The sun was setting as I returned home after an evening walk. Hearing a rustle in the tea field flanking the road, I involuntarily stopped, my eyes scanning the narrow lane cutting through the tea bushes.
In the low light, I could discern the silhouette of a lone wild dog (or dhole as it’s called) watching me intently from a distance of 20 metres. Soon I found another one—gazing intently at me. Intrigued, I decided to take a breather and figure out what they were up to. It couldn’t be anything good, I was sure. The dholes are known to be ruthless killers after all.
As I stood there watching them, another two joined the duo —a whole pack was probably out there lurking beneath the tea bushes as they often do. Ears perked up and tails twitching, the quartet continued to watch me warily, their innate fear of humans quite obvious. But they also displayed an unmistakable air of impatience. Perhaps they hoped I’d go away. When I didn’t, their patience finally seemed to wear off. One by one they reluctantly loped down the lane. In the fading light I counted no less than seven of them; possibly, there were more.
Soon after, as I resumed my walk, a petrified deer suddenly burst out from a bush bordering the tea field. It showed the desperation of a hunted animal and, on seeing me, quickly plunged into a dense clump of lantana bushes.
Evidently, the dholes had been trying to ambush the deer, which, sensing danger and knowing it couldn’t outrun them, had taken refuge in the bush. And, unknown to me, my prolonged presence at the scene had clearly discouraged its predators.
Having done a good deed, I walked back home feeling contend. My two grandchildren would be eager and delighted to hear the story, I thought.
But then, I once again heard the cry of the deer shatter the stillness of the evening. Had the murderous pack of dholes caught up with it so quickly, I wondered. And soon enough the faint but triumphant yelping of the canines dispelled my doubt. They had felled their prey and were summoning all the members of the clan to feast on it.
The inexorable law of the jungle had prevailed: carnivores must literally live off herbivores.
George N Netto
Email: gnettomunnar@rediffmail.com