Of Tigers & Men

In the pinnacle of midday summer heat, we approached a small group of jeeps on the dusty roadside. The members of each car stared intently into a thick grove of bamboo. To me, it looked like any other stretch of jungle we'd passed. The bamboo stalks cast crisscrossed shadows onto the understory beneath a thin canopy of teak leaves. If anything, a small water-filled ditch on the other side of the road caught my attention. In central India's dry season, fresh water was not easy to find. The muddy pit, once likely used by local cattle farmers, was now full of murky water. I found the still, dirty water tantalizing in the oppressive heat. But to our guide, and apparently every other jeep too, something else was up.

The word was passed back from jeep to jeep. Tiger! And so a dream was realized, I glimpsed a tiger through the scattered stalks of bamboo. But only through my telephoto lens could I make out several shades of orange and black fur. Or was it just shadows of bamboo in the dead, brown leaves? The camouflage was incredibly effective. If not for a bit of white fur on its underbelly, I could have studied these woods without even noticing an animal. But with time, I slowly made out his silhouette. He was laying down. And would occasionally flip his black and white-tipped tail into the air. It's funny how thin stalks of bamboo can hide so much. A tiger lay hidden in plain sight.

And so we all sat, quietly, some 30-odd people in six different jeeps - cameras raised in a flutter of excitement every time he twitched a muscle. To finally see a tiger, I was a little surprised at this creature’s tolerance. Here he was, the apex predator, king of the Indian jungle. He hardly even acknowledged our small entourage. But I guess that unconcerned demeanor comes from his confidence atop the natural food chain. Plus, as our guides explained, tigers in the park have acclimated to the noise and movement of jeeps within the confines of park roads. As long as no one got out or spoke too loud, most tigers would tolerate a few spectators, even with little more than a thin sheet of metal siding between us.

So this tiger carried on. He relaxed, stretched lackadaisically. I don't blame him. Who wants to do anything in 106 degree (Fahrenheit) heat? No wind, no moisture, nothing but oppressive heat. The tiger sat, and so did we. 30 minutes... 40 minutes... over an hour. Four jeeps drove off in search of more exciting wildlife. Our guide preached patience, suggesting that the tiger would need some water on this hot afternoon. Given my past work experience with large mammals, I also embraced this mantra. Though admittedly, the virtue is increasingly harder to follow in the dry season.

Suddenly, silently, the tiger rose. It began to walk, without any sound, even in the dry and crunchy leaf litter! Like a shadow through the bamboo, burnt orange and black stripes camouflaged with the fractured light of the forest. It emerged from the forest and onto the road, in plain view and in its full glory. Maybe 600 pounds? Ten feet long from head to tail, nearly as tall as my shoulders, with a healthy coat of orange and black. His muscles rippled with every step. Rohan and I were on our feet with excitement. Both jeeps sat idle. The tiger gracefully approached that water-filled trough across the road - a small 8 x 20 foot pool of water in the otherwise dry, red Earth. He seemed to consider taking a sip before plunging his entire body into the pool.

In absolute chaos, both jeeps revved their engines and rapidly reversed course, leaving behind a small trail of dust in our wake. It must have looked a bit ridiculous for an onlooker to see these jeeps careening towards a single tiger. Its passengers hanging into the air with cameras. But the tiger did not care. We were now 30-feet away from a wild tiger, with nothing but a thin sheet of metal between us. Patience (and a lot of luck) had paid off. I never dreamed I could be this close to such a magnificent creature.

The tiger gazed deeply from person to person with intelligent eyes. I couldn't even draw my camera, but just met his stare, sudden and intense from behind its hazel eyes. Pupils narrowed with curiosity. His eyes implored what exactly our business might be in his land. Aside from his immense size, the movement and behavior was all too similar to a house cat. I marveled at the comparisons. But his soft, inquisitive eyes did not fool me. They were not docile. I had no doubt his capricious nature could flip to a lethal killer in only a moment's notice. But not today, not now.

The tiger lapped up water with his enormous tongue. The sides momentarily folded in like a small bowl - carrying the water into its mouth. Its eyes nor his ears never left our congregation of vehicles. He seemed to grow a bit more comfortable with time, sinking slowly into the bath and dipping his chin into the water. Water dripped from his long whiskers. The white fur on his neck-line clung tightly to his body. He yawned twice, revealing a fearful set of teeth, enormous canines on the top and bottom of his jaw. We were so close that I could see the yellow stains on his teeth. And the wear and tear of his carnivorous life. He now sat with his lower half submerged in the water, providing us with full view of his impeccably aligned stripes. His forearms and shoulders were simply massive. I am certain that they were the girth of my entire body when contracted in his reclined position.

The king basked in the late afternoon sun. And it shone upon him in all its glory. He was simply radiant. An eternity, probably 45-minutes passed, before our tiger did the inevitable. Perhaps he was tired of the paparazzi, perhaps he'd quenched his thirst, perhaps he could smell a sambar miles away. He stood. And it was time to go. Water drained from his magnificent fur coat by the bucket. His enormous paws turned towards the forest. He shot one last look in our direction before slinking away as silently as he had emerged. I followed him for as long as I could, until he was no more than a dark silhouette in thick vegetation. And then he was gone. The forest remained still. The heat seemed prohibitive to all life - yet we knew our tiger lurked amid the heat, among the shadows.

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At the start of the 20th century, there were over 100,000 tigers in the wild - today only 1,000 to 3,200 remain. Extirpated from most of their former range, tigers are now isolated to patches of southeast Asia: central and eastern India, southwestern China, Indonesia, and Russia. The decline is most heavily associated with habitat destruction and fragmentation, along with poaching. Asia's black market fuels a global demand for tiger parts and fur that puts wild tigers in danger of extinction. But human expansion is perhaps the largest threat to tigers, more and more suitable habitat disappears each year.

India is home to the largest population of wild tigers but only 11% of their original range remains. Even this reduced habitat would be less if not for Project Tiger, an Indian government program founded in 1973. The program restored large tracts of primary forest for preservation, while managing the buffer zones as multiple-use areas for villagers. From 9 tiger reserves to 47 today (arguably none as successful as Bandhavgarh National Park, the highest density of tigers in the world), tigers have mounted a small comeback in India. And the country now contains well over half of the world's remaining tigers. But as the connectivity between these fragmented habitats dwindle, parks become an island to each individual population. Genetic bottlenecks (the disappearance of new traits into the gene pool and inherent inbreeding) are a cause for concern in these small populations.

Strictly-controlled ecotourism helps provide funding and can increase local support for tiger conservation. Our guide spoke of the park's employment in his village and his appreciation for these animals. Having booked our permits months in advance, I was proud to contribute to a carefully managed national park that promoted long-term sustainability. Local guards, guides, and drivers were recruited and trained from nearby villages. Our tour operator was locally owned and provided transparent documentation of how its profits were shared. There are strict rules against baiting animals, poaching, and foreign attendance within the park. Permits are filled many months in advance. Park gates are strictly controlled by armed guards. And commercial jeep routes are limited to specific roads every day. These restrictions decrease foreign access to the park. But these limitations help protect substantial habitat for long-term population viability, benefit local communities through coexistence and profit, and ultimately help ensure that tigers are never lost from this Earth.

Learn more about tigers and their interactions with humans in these books:

• Of Tigers & Men

• Life in the Valley of Death: The Fight to Save Tigers in a Land of Guns, Gold, and Greed

• Tigers in the Snow

• Tigers & Tigerwallahs: Encounters with Men who Tried to Save the Greatest of the Great Cats

• Maneaters of Kumaon

• Tiger: A True Story of Vengance & Survival

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Find places to see, animals to watch, food to eat, and books to read if you’re visiting India!

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