The survival of humans and animals has always stayed intertwined. That’s the scenario handed down to us for generations—for ages. As time passed, the world turned overcrowded, both for Homo sapiens and the denizens of the wild.
The wildlife had to bear the brunt to an extreme extent, though. The so-called civilized bipeds encroached upon their habitat. They usurped what was theirs and made them defenseless and vulnerable—even endangered. Several species, to say the least, became extinct in the bargain.
Insecurity and fear
In the early ages, humans were in a constant state of insecurity and fear of wild animals. With the inroads of civilization, the human-animal-relation situation took a dramatic shift, though. Today, wild animals seem more afraid of humans. The predators, too, appear to dread the earthlings and shun proximity to them.
Startling news hit the press when the University of Oxford’s Wildlife Conservation Research Unit reported to Discovery News that fear of humans among wildlife had become an alarming issue in the Makgadikgadi Pans National Park in Botswana, Africa. It further stated that the fearless “Kings of the jungle,” the lions in the park, lived in a ‘landscape of fear’ because of threats posed by human intervention.
That made a lasting impression on the new offspring of the lion family, through their mother and other pride members, and they learned to fear humans as they grew up, the wildlife scientists reported.
The anecdote
The ‘fear of humans’ phenomenon among the animals from the wild somehow seemed to connect with a hilarious anecdote I am going to relate here, which took place several years ago when four of my friends from Dharan, East Nepal, went fishing. The quartet, excited as they were, as usual, seemed to make a fuss over their fishing tackle and gear—what to pack up and what to forget.
The next day, they started early. They caught a bus for West Kusaha, Chatara, where the Koshi Tappu Wildlife Reserve is situated. After acquiring a fishing permit for the day, the foursome headed for the river bank.
Established in 1976, Koshi Tappu Wildlife Reserve, a floodplain of the Sapta Koshi River, comprises 175 square km of grasslands and wetlands and spans Sunsari, Saptari, and Udaypur districts. The government designated the reserve as a Ramsar Site in 1987.
Without losing a moment, the gang spread out and started casting their spoons from the river bank. The Sapta Koshi, Nepal’s largest river system, stretched out in all its glory. Their main quarry for that morning was the Golden Mahseer (Tor putitora), and if that failed, they would not mind settling for a Goonch (catfish) or two—if luck favored them at all.
Spoon fishing
Spoons are lures used for fishing worldwide and in Nepal, too—a favorite of the Dharan anglers. Easy to use: all you’ve got to do is cast your spoon, wait a few seconds for your metal bait to reach the bottom, then retrieve. The idea is to dupe the fish with the spoon, which spins on its way back when the line is drawn in, mimicking a small live fish. The resident fish take them for real and go for a bite—and get hooked.
Not lucky all the time
For two hours at a stretch, the fishers followed a routine cast-and-retrieve like the rhythmic ticking of a clock. They worked the river up and down several times—a tiring job indeed. No catches, not even a feeble bite, came their way, though. That’s what it’s like with fishing—you are not always lucky.
The March morning sun was up, and the anglers felt the heat permeating with each passing minute. The midday heat in Terai in March can turn sizzling. The group decided it was time to take a short break and gathered on a small knoll close to a stretch of elephant grass that colonized the river sandbanks in patches.
“Hey guys, I’ve to evacuate my bowels,” said one friend and headed for the nearest patch of tall grass. The rest of the group started unpacking their lunches. Hardly had they finished eating when a figure broke cover from the dense grasses and dashed towards the seated group, yelling at the top of his voice. He was none other than their pal. He bounded towards his friends with fright written all over his face as if there was no tomorrow for him.
The group seated on the knoll watched dumbstruck; they witnessed not one but two bizarre scenes happening in the same breath. The moment their friend bolted, in a blink of an eye, a large black Arna, a wild water buffalo (Bubalus arnee) carrying a pair of formidable-looking horns, crashed through the tall grasses. It galloped like lightning, in clear sight, in the opposite direction, crossed a small clearing, and disappeared into a pocket of tall grasses.
Water buffaloes are large, powerful animals weighing close to 1,000 kg. Koshi Tappu is renowned for them. They are categorized as endangered on the IUCN Red List. Within seconds, it re-entered another dense patch of tall grass and disappeared. The angler-group observed the poor animal looked equally frightened as their mate, if not more.
Frightened buffalo
The group bent double, slapped their thighs, and shrieked with laughter. They watched their shell-shocked panting friend holding his still unfastened and unzipped pants. It took him some time before he could regain his breath and recount what had happened.
“I squatted facing the thickset grasses towards the river,” he began. “Moments later, a rustling sounded. It stopped unawares, though. But a few seconds later, I heard it again. It felt as if something was coming my way. At first, I thought you guys were up to your little pranks again, like always.”
“There it stood, barely 5 ft. away, his large bulging eyes boring balefully into mine. Time froze. I almost fainted. Suddenly, the buffalo gave a loud grunt and a snort. The next thing I knew, I was going hell for leather, yelling at the top of my voice. The rest, you guys saw,” he finished with a gasp.
The Asiatic wild water buffaloes can be very dangerous. Cases of Arna attacks in Koshi Tappu areas are commonplace and frequently reported by park officials. Such incidents occur when villagers go to the riverbanks to collect fodder, dead logs, and wood debris.
Koshi Tappu has the world’s second-largest population of Arnas, amongst India, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Cambodia, and Thailand. My friend had a close call—scared out of his wits. But by the looks of things, it appeared the other way round to me as I wrapped up the ‘man versus the wild’ story. To recapitulate, it seemed he gave the poor buffalo the fright of his life—instead.
At the end of the day: “Wild Animals Fear Human Voices More Than a Lion's Growl, “writes Amy Jones for a website called Species Unite.
