Twilight in the mountains. A Buddhist prayer flag and a mountain peak visible in the foreground.

When the spring knocks at the door of the mountains, the flowers bloom and a riot of colours commences.The furious wind turns into a warm-gentle breeze, while the butterflies hop from flower to flower in search of the elixir. The blue sheep graze leisurely in the lush green meadows and all life forms seem to enter some idyllic lull, enjoying the fleeting warm weather and a short period of bounty, in an otherwise harsh landscape.

The period of bounty and salubrious climate.

Come winter and the landscape is completely transformed. The greenery vanishes and the white snow covers the mountains and meadows as far as the eye can see. One thing however does not change; the mountains keep nurturing and nourishing a variety of life forms as they have done for millennia.

A lone Blue sheep looks over from the gradual-rolling meadows. The meadows support wild ungulates as well as the livestock of the people.

An hour had passed since the last rays of the fading sun had vanished from the face of the tallest peak; Mount-Kanamo, a beautiful and distinct mountain at approximately 6000 meters.

Mount Kanamo, a beautiful mountain peak located at approximately 6000 meters.

With sun going down, the temperature had plummeted down to 15 below zero. Amitayus (the snow leopard), was still resting in the cliffs inside the Badang nullah soaking up the comforting heat from the warm rock surface. The wind was gradually picking up and the exposed rock surface would soon be bereft of its latent heat and the comfort it provided. After a while, Amitayus felt the incessant, cold wind pounding on his battered, weather beaten face. Being the dominating giant that he was, he had lost his long-thick tail during a skirmish when a younger, somewhat arrogant male had dared to challenge his authority over his mountain kingdom. That furry tail would have provided some respite from the cold wind, but that was not an option now. Deciding that discretion was the better part of the valour, Amitayus moved a bit deeper inside the cave beneath the overhanging cliff.

“A Snow leopard’s tail is as long as the length of its body and provides balance while negotiating treacherous terrain. It is also often wrapped around the face while resting to protect against the wind and cold. Interestingly, local people believe that snow leopards carry their kills over their backs, wrapping it with the tail to keep it from falling”

Ten years had passed since Amitayus was born in these mountains. No one knew where exactly he was born, but Amitayus had faint memories of being chased away rudely and incessantly by the mother without any rhyme or reason. He had travelled miles, hiding from other dominant males, often going hungry for days and occasionally stealing a sheep or goat from an unwary herder. The tiring and dangerous journey had lasted several weeks till he finally settled down and started marking a small 80 square kilometer area as his home.

The snow leopard landscape. Meadows, cliffs, gorges and ridgelines along with the towering peaks form home to the most mysterious cat of the high mountains.

The night was cold and chilly but Amitayus had eaten well and half a carcass of a blue sheep still lay in the cave. There was nothing to be worried about at least for a couple of another days. The only thing that had troubled him today was a restless young chap with big snow boots, a bag slinging on his back and a pair of binoculars stuck perpetually on his face. The fellow had been too close today and kept scanning the mountain slopes with unceasing zeal. To the surprise and relief of Amitayus he appeared to have not a clue that he was lying there, right under his nose. Finally with the onset of the night, the fellow had decided to give up and retreat, but not before building a cairn on the narrow trail that Amitayus would have to use, to walk out of the cliffs and over to the rich meadows of Gete, where blue sheep grazed in plenty.

Having spent the entire day lazing around, the fall of the darkness seemed to nudge Amitayus to take a small stroll on the cliffs. He was also curious to see what business this fellow who did not look like a Buddhist monk had constructing cairns. The cairns and colourful prayer flags were the hallmark of this Buddhist landscape and there was nothing to worry about them.

Buddhist prayer flags with prayers inscribed on them are thought to spread goodwill and well-being in seven cardinal directions.

To the utter surprise of Amitayus, the cairn emitted a gentle red glow the moment he approached it and the glow became more intense, the closer he approached. He had never seen a cairn like this before, but it did not seem to do any harm either. Satisfied with the exploration, Amitayus returned to the relative safety and comfort of the cave, where to his great displeasure, a red fox was making good of his precious food. Chasing it away, he stretched himself, yawned and then sprawled over, gazing at the star studded bright sky. He drifted into the memories of his childhood when he did not have to worry about either food or shelter as there was a mother to provide for all of it. He could hardly remember the face of the mother or that of the other siblings, but one thing he still remembered clearly; the stars were the same then as they were today. Lingering in the sweet thoughts of whatever he remembered of his childhood, he drifted away to sleep.

Night in the Himalayas. Twin mountain peaks, a village nestled within and the starlit sky provide a magical quality to the night.

Meanwhile Thinley despite scanning the mountains all day had not succeeded in even getting a glimpse of a snow leopard. He had returned to the base camp cold, tired and hungry. Next morning he decided to intensify his search for snow leopard signs and scats as he planned to deploy more of those cairn disguised camera traps for better monitoring of snow leopards.

He also hoped that this wandering around might one day bring him close to a snow leopard! With the help of other knowledgeable villagers and livestock herders, who had intimate knowledge of snow leopard movements, Thinley had managed to identify several places where the snow leopard would pass and a covert camera would record its presence. On a similar reconnaissance trip one day, he had spotted a horse in a meadow, lying about 200 meters from an overhanging cliff. He quickly pulled out his binocular from his sling bag and was thrilled to see a snow leopard lying next to the dead horse. Though he had seen snow leopards a couple of times before, this was the first time that the cat with the uncanny reputation of melting away in the mountains, lay right in front of his eyes. Thinley just could not take his eyes off the beautiful cat with the smoky grey coat adorned with dark-grey rosettes. He could no longer resist taking a few more steps to see the cat up and close. Taking one cautious step a time he gradually moved forth. At one point, the snow leopard raised its head and stared at Thinley, but he was undeterred. A few more steps and the cat crouched besides the dead horse, baring its long-sharp canines. This aggression shook Thinley and he decided to retreat his steps, but not before he have had a good look at the snow leopard. The small stump in place of a long thick tail struck him and would remain etched in his memory forever.

Amitayus photographed by an automatic motion sensor camera in the winter of the year 2008.

Throughout their range in Central Asia, which is spread across thirteen countries, there is not even a single instance of a snow leopard killing or injuring a human being. It is astonishing that a cat that can bring down a full grown horse would not harm human beings.

The waning of flowers was signaling a retreating spring and the onset of a short autumn, which would then soon give way to a long-harsh winter. People in the villages were busy harvesting their precious crops of commercial green pea and the traditional barley.

A village in the Trans-Himalayas with its crop of barley. Besides being a nutritious food, barley has high religious-cultural value and is the primary ingredient of the traditional brew.

Thinley and his team were running around in the mountains, deploying camera traps at the strategic locations they had marked out earlier. Thinley was particularly excited as he hoped that these cameras would be a window to the world of that stump tailed cat that had one day left him stunned with its beauty and courage. He and his team would set out early in the morning, maintaining their delicate balance on the ridgelines, while the furious wind threated to uproot them and fling them down into the yawning gorges. Memory cards brought back from cameras far and wide revealed several beautiful cats that had posed in front of the cameras. The team was particularly thrilled to see a female with two playful, cuddly young ones.

Amitayus was ubiquitous and was found to cover a large area which included the area covered by the female with cubs. Probably he had sired those cubs, but one could not be sure. The effort was rewarding enough for the team to continue with for years, and year after year, Amitayus kept gracing the cameras.

While surfing through some of the recent photographs that the team had brought back, Thinley’s keen eye noticed the battered and tired face of Amitayus. Also the camera traps revealed that numbers of places that he often visited and had formed a part of his large kingdom were now reduced to a handful. The entire team was now a worried lot. Thinley’s natural cheeriness seemed to have evaporated into the thin mountain air and the once mischievous eyes now gave out a dull, sad look. Without anyone noticing, he was making four trips a month to each of the cameras instead of the usual one. He found it difficult to express himself and make anyone understand why he would be so worried about one particular snow leopard when there were many others around. The two cubs had again appeared in front of one of the cameras and a faint smile donned his face when he saw that they were growing bigger and more mischievous, this time running after a bewildered adult blue sheep male.

Two of the snow leopard cubs, growing older and bolder. NCF-SLT camera traps have been monitoring these two cubs and their mother since the year 2009.

The report of livestock killings which had surged in the past four months had trickled down substantially. Thinley had made sure that all such killings were swiftly compensated as deep down he worried that it was the now old and weak Amitayus, who was killing livestock. Belonging to the same community, he knew that pushed to the brink, the herders sometimes would not hesitate to take extreme steps to protect their valuable livestock. On such occasions he often tried hard to ascertain the identity of the snow leopard and in his conversations with herders, he would often invoke the great teaching of Lord Buddha and the right of every life form to exist. Deep down, he silently prayed for the well-being of Amitayus and other snow leopards.

Buddhist prayer motifs. Often used in the rituals of the dead, these beautiful mud idols are created in thousands and are left in the natural caves or poured into the streams.

On a bitterly cold winter morning, some monks on their way to a meditation cave found a snow leopard buried deep in the snow. Thinley’s heart missed a beat before he rushed to the spot, running and falling in the knee deep snow. After a while, his limbs refused to move even an inch and the cold mountain air choked his lungs. Never before had he felt so weak and helpless in these mountains. Somehow he managed to drag himself to the last 200 meters before he crashed on his knees just where the beautiful, but now motionless snow leopard lay. The monks’ lips were rolling out silent prayers for what is regarded as the most mysterious creature of the high mountains.

Amitayus graces a camera again in the winter of 2010. This was the last we saw of him before the mountains embraced him in their lap.

In Buddhist culture, such as in the Dolpo region of Nepal, the snow leopards are considered as mountain deities, extending protection to the sacred mountains and the people. Old scriptures believed to be a 1000 years old, mention a great yogi named Drutob Senge Yeshe who arrived on a flying snow leopard to convert a dreaded mountain God to Buddhism. The mountain God resisted and a battle ensued. The snow leopard on seeing the mountain God assisted by snakes, reproduced itself one hundred and eight times and finally helped the yogi overcome the fearsome mountain God. Similarly the great yogi Milarepa to confound his enemies resorted to his black Nyingma-pa Tantra, transforming himself to a snow leopard at Lachi-Kang (Mount Everest).

…..The Snow Leopard (Peter Matthiessen)

A tear trickled down Thinley’s eyes as he recognized Amitayus, the snow leopard that had once sent him back on his feet, challenged his courage and enthralled him with its grandeur. He looked at the towering mountains around him, as if seeking an answer. But there were no answers; the mountains were silent as they always have been for millennia. With heavy hearts, everyone finally returned to the nearest monastery. Just then a deep rumble rented the frigid mountain air…as a huge avalanche came crashing down and buried Amitayus deeper, much deeper in the snow…

The mountains had moved.

This joint project will focus on empowering local communities in each country to adopt a series of conservation measures, including environmental education, community‐based wildlife monitoring, anti‐poaching programmes, and cross‐collaboration between regional and national government offices. The project will be implemented together with leading national conservationists based at NCF, Shan Shui and Peking University in China, and the Snow Leopard Conservation Fund in Mongolia. The Snow Leopard Trust (SLT), recognized as the global leader in snow leopard conservation, will also participate in the project. The BBC Wildlife Fund is providing nearly £60,000 ($90,000 US) over the next two years in this program for conservation in regions critical to the survival of the snow leopard.

“This is the first large, multi‐country project of its kind for snow leopards,” says Dr. Charudutt Mishra, Trustee of NCF and Science and Conservation Director of the SLT, “and it’s a huge leap forward for the species.” Snow leopards are still relatively new to the conservation scene. The first photograph of a wild snow leopard wasn’t captured until the 1970s, and targeted efforts to protect the cats didn’t begin until the 1980s. Snow leopard conservation has lagged behind big campaigns like those set up for tigers, but Dr. Mishra hopes this project will change all that and says “with WFN, BBC and our other partners, we can finally produce the kind of in‐depth, multifaceted conservation systems necessary to save these cats.”

Georgina Domberger, Director of WFN, believes the project has global impact, one of the factors that gained WFN’s support: “It’s great to say you’re going to protect an endangered species—but what does that mean? We can’t save all of them at once, but we are coming up with a way to protect some of the most important population centres we can, and then we hope to build outwards from there.” WFN is also excited because they, like NCF, view snow leopards as a flagship species able to streamline and lead larger efforts in critical habitats. Domberger says “we all love snow leopards for their beauty and charisma, and since they are at the top of the wildlife pyramid, we know helping them will help the entire ecosystem.”

A press release about the program is available here [PDF].

Fading rays of sun illuminate a mountain peak: one of the several spells of Spiti.

Its a landscape where the elusive snow leopards and pervasive humans share the same terrain, their fate intertwined in a tangled complexity. My curiosity to know more about snow leopards brought me here, but it was the bewitching landscape that left me breathless; literally!!! At times when fieldwork starts taking a toll on your body and mind, its one of the spells of the magical Spiti that alleviates the spirits.

A maze of agricultural fields. The austere landscape is shared by wildlife and people.

It had been a busy month and our team had been moving about in the mountains, rushing from one point to another to place camera traps at various locations. It had become a routine work and monotony had quietly crept in. During one of these routine rush through’s, I was visiting the Badang nullah; an excellent snow leopard area. A few years back, Charu and Sushil had watched a snow leopard at this very nullah for more than an hour, resting quietly underneath one of the cliffs. The approach however was quite difficult and it took us more than an hour to first climb down all the way to the nullah bed and then to climb up to the cliff site where we were supposed to place the camera. I was still thinking if it would be worth the effort, but my doubts were more than allayed when I reached the place. Full of scrape marks and scats, this looked like an ideal place for fixing a camera. However this place harbored things that diverted my attention from camera traps and snow leopards.

A blue sheep group on the move.

The cliffs here in the upper half of the tall mountain overlooked the nullah flowing below with its crisp and clear water. The footing was not all that good and looking down I wondered, what a missed step or wrongly placed foot would mean. There was a small cave, with neat mud plaster slowly coming off the walls and inside the rocks were all black with what appeared like result of years of wood fire. There was a disfigured, but a beautiful painting of a Gompa (Monastery) that had been created by carving on the mud wall. I was very curious about it. Was it that this place was still being used by hunters, did people killed Ibex blue sheep and cooked them up in this desolate cave? I asked Tsering Dorje, my field assistant about this and soon the story unfolded.

An Ibex male in its typical rugged habitat.

There used to be a brave hunter who used to inhabit this cave, killing blue sheep and Ibex in the day and returning to his cave with the quarry in the night. Not very far from the place, there was a Buddhist monk, meditating in this serene and calm Himalayan environment. The hunter was very impressed with the austere life that the monk used to live. He made it a point to leave the best piece of the meat from his kills quietly at the doorsteps of the small cave that monk used to inhabit, making sure that he did not disturb the monk in his meditation.

Spiti panorama. Buddhist monks still meditate in these remote mountains.

It is said that years passed by like this when one day the hunter became a bit curious and decided to find out a bit more about the monk whom he had been selflessly serving for such a long time in his own small way. Once inside the cave, he was surprised to notice that none of his offerings to the monk had been accepted and that the monk turned out to be a staunch vegetarian. The hunter felt very bad about it. He thought he had sinned by placing chunks of meat and bone at the very door of a monk who in fact was a vegetarian. Thus filled with utmost remorse, he jumped off from the very cave where he had spent years placing meat at the door of the monk.

It is believed that he did not fall in the nullah. Halfway through his decent, he was suddenly lifted up by some divine powers and he attained buddhatava (or nirvana in today’s more fancy terms). The monk had been watching all this. Thinking that if a sinner like the hunter who killed animal’s everyday and ate their flesh was lifted up by the divine powers, he was sure to be lifted too. Thus he jumped, full of confidence, just that no divine powers lifted him up.

As per the latest rumours, a ghost has laid claim on this unclaimed property (caves). There indeed was an element of truth in these rumours as is evident from the photographs from our spy camera.

Snow leopard, the mountain ghost photographed by our hidden camera.

The story had thus ended and all of us having had 2-3 cups of lukewarm tea from the big Chinese thermos were feeling refreshed and energized. It was time to move on to the next location of the day and may be search for another story.

Shijibang, one of the sentinels of Gya bears a strong resemblance with the Matterhorn of the Alps. Just that Shijibang is a good 1500m taller!

I have been into this maze before. Mainly in search of the snow leopard (Panthera uncia) and the blue sheep (Pseudois nayaur). This time was my forth expedition. The primary aim was to estimate the population of blue sheep in this region using a new technique called the ‘Double observer survey’. Unlike our previous attempts this time we decided to do the task with a small team of just 5 members. We had to cover an enormous area of about 300 sq km. Most of this has to be approached through high passes and torrent rivers coming from glacier snouts.

The expedition began in the village of Lalung. Takpa and I moved to the next camp called Kibri on day one; Chunnit Kesang, Lama and Pandan were to join us the next day with two donkeys loaded with expedition equipment. Day 3 was our first major hurdle of the Shijibang pass (5100 m) a vertical climb of 1300 m from the Kibri camp.

Lalung village and Chokula in the background

Among the many defences of Gya, the first is a row of fairly high but relatively easy peaks such as Kanamo (6974 m), Cho-cho kang nilda (6380 m), Tserip (5890 m), Kawu (5910 m) and Shijibang (c. 5900 m). Across the Shijbang pass (5100 m) we were across the first hurdle. But it also meant that if the weather took a turn we could be caged inside. We camped in Shijibang ‘Grassy medow’. The next day across the pastures of Sheru; we camped here for a few days of field work in this region. This region has a very good density of blue sheep. This is also where we saw our first blue sheep kid born in this year.

Our next hurdle was the Lingti river itself. This river is bone freezing cold and has an extremely strong current. But we had a unique solution to this problem. The Yaks! The ship of the cold desert. We were literally going to use them as ships.

Yak! The 'ship' of the cold desert!

We camp by this river for the next few days at a place called Phiphuk. Our next hurdle was the Kuli pass (4800 m). The climb up to Kuli la is gentle and scenic. We decided to ride the yaks up to the pass and across to Saktichen.

Caragana meadow of Saktichen

We camped at Saktichen for the next few days. The next defence of Gya is the 5300 m high pass called the Chaksachen la. Chaksachen la lies along the ridge formed by Lakhang (6250 m), Shilla (6132 m) and Labrang (5900 m).  By now we were low on supplies and we decided that only Pandan and I will go up to chaksachen la and see if there are any more pastures across where there could be more blue sheep. The climb was gentle and we made it to the top without much difficulty.

Shree looking for blue sheep; Labrang (5900 m) in the back ground.

Across the valley on the other side was the last line of Gya’s defences. The trio of Geling (6100 m), Runse (6175 m) and Gyaghar (6400 m). The lowest point of this ridge is at 5900 m. Nobody has actually crossed this ridge to reach Gya. Across the Chaksachen pass the gorge was too narrow for any pastures or meadows. We traversed the entire ridge and could not see any more pasture. We decided to wrap up our expedition from here.

Gyaghar (6400 m); meaning Indian!

On the way back I was a little disappointed. I was going back from my fourth expedition without even being able to see Gya. My last opportunity was the crossing of the Shijibang pass. If the weather remained clear then I had a chance. After seven hours of climbing to the top of Shijibang pass I turned around and there was Gya!

Gya (6794 m); The highest peak of Himachal Pradesh

From the Himachal side Gya looks like a single monolith rock wall of 1200 m. Getting to the base of this wall is a challenge of itself.

A herd of blue sheep in Lingti valley

Snow leopard

Only after this fourth expedition do I feel truly successful. The expedition was scientifically successful as we had achieved the objective of estimating blue sheep abundance in this entire maze. We had been able to see all the animal species present here. And we had managed to penetrate deep enough inside the fortress of Gya to get a sight of the King!

Map Lingti valley

‘Lingti’ is an instrument that cuts rock, as it literally means in Spitian. The rapidly flowing white water of the glacial melt has carved a deep gorge through an otherwise rolling steppe landscape, thus probably the name. The river cuts a narrow gorge with towering rock faces along both banks. These rocky steep banks rise up, almost near vertical, until it reaches the edge of the plateau. Here the valley suddenly opens up into a flat dish of rolling hills. The plateau stretches in all directions until it approaches the ridge-line fence created by the mountains all around the valley. Here the rolling hills immediately start rising and turn into massive rock and ice slopes leading to the top of the various mountains peaks and ridges.

The sharp walls of the Lingti gorge

Lingti valley is surely a mountaineers paradise. But due to the remoteness of this valley few mountaineers venture here. The first outsiders to visit this valley was an expedition led by Harish Kapadia in 1983. They managed to penetrate the valley halfway and then turned their attention towards Cho-cho Khang Nilda and surrounding peaks. The same expedition returned in 1987 and managed to reach the source of Lingti and even climb Parilungbi. Since then hardly any expeditions have come this way. Recently Gya was climbed from this side by another Indian expedition, but overall very few have made it this far.

At the same time Lingti is a geologist’s goldmine too. It is a living museum that has preserved over 250 million years of geological history in the form of shales and fossils. The ammonite and belemnite fossils from here are known world over. Many theories are based on the geological studies carried out here. Fossils collected by Dr. Richard Hey in 1955 are still preserved at the Sedgwick Museum in Cambridge. But, little was know about the wildlife of this remote valley until very recently. Till the last decade most of our knowledge about the wildlife of this valley came from the anecdotes reported by adventurers and mountaineers who visited this area. In mid 1980′s this valley was notified as part of the Kibber Wildlife Sanctuary.

This region is so remote that there is not a single village in about 400 km2 of the upper habitable part of this valley. Historically there was a village called ‘Uhlshikpo’ within this valley, which moved out due to its remoteness around 80-100 years ago. Now only the ruins of ‘Uhlshikpo remain inside the valley. Although this valley is along the border with Tibet there are no passes crossing from Lingti to Tibet and so this region has received relatively little attention from Army or the Border Police Force, except for some routine patrols.

The ruins of Uhlshikpo

Last year, I got the opportunity to survey this hidden valley and prepare a plan for the management of this valley for the conservation of its wildlife wealth. This exercise was a part of the collaborative effort between Himachal Pradesh Forest Department and Nature Conservation Foundation on Management planning of the region. The task had to begin from documenting what wildlife existed inside Lingti, then assessing its status and recommending suitable interventions for its long-term survival. This survey was to be a tough challenge. Along with difficult terrain there was also the thunderous rock cutting river torrent. To get into Lingti one requires crossing the river many times. It meant that for any kind of survey we had to wait till the water was at its lowest. I decided to attempt this in late autumn and early winter. At the beginning of winter the water level in the river goes down and ice bridges are formed all across the river making the river crossing relatively easier. But, the early winter cold makes camping in the open a miserable experience.

Crossing the Lingti

I needed a tough team for this kind of a survey. The members not only had to be physically extremely fit but also knowledgeable about conducting wildlife surveys. They had to be able to identify animals based on their signs such as droppings and spoors (footprints in soft soil or snow) and be able to use technical equipment such as Global Positioning System (GPS). I found such knowledgeable and fit people in the Kibber Youth Council. The Kibber Youth Council had been helping us (Nature Conservation Foundation) with wildlife conservation programs in the main Spiti valley for over ten years. The team members were Sushil, Kalzang, Thillay, Kalzang Pulzor, Chudim, Rinchen, Sheru, Thukten and myself.

We began our survey from Lalung (3776m); a village located very close to the confluence of Lingti and Spiti. With a population of about 370 people and 55 houses Lalung is a largish village by Spitian Standard. I wasn’t surprised to know that very few people from this village had ever been inside the Lingti Valley. As metal roads and electricity penetrated deep into the mountains and reached this village, their lifestyle changed dramatically. People became more market dependent; selling their crop of pea and buying the grocery from stores in Kaza (the administrative headquarter of Spiti) became the norm of life. No more is there a need for them to go deep inside Lingti valley to graze their livestock or find wood to make the plough or building. While we heard tales of snow leopards and blue sheep from the valley we got little credible information.

The team:(from left to right) Thukten II, Kalzang, Thukten, Kulbhushan, Kalzang Pulzor, Chudim, Rinchen, Thillay, Sheru

It was time for the actual survey. Thukten II the herder from Lalung was hired as our guide. The trek to Phiphuk, the center of the valley, was arduous; we kept walking over the frozen bed of the Lingti but occasionally the ice sheet under our feet became too thin for comfort and we had to hop from one boulder to another. At the same time, all of us were top heavy, carrying ration for 15 days of stay and thus progress was extremely slow. The first day we camped at Kibri. Before the last light of the day our spirits were rejuvenated as we spotted a herd of 20 blue sheep grazing on the steep banks nearby. The second day of trek was full of excitement as we kept encountering fresh snow leopard pugmarks all along the trail. We kept expecting a surprise at every bend in the trail. That evening we reached ‘Phiphuk’ (4005m). We decided to make this our base camp due to its central location in the valley. This was to be our home for the next two weeks. The prospects seemed very promising; we had seen many snow leopard signs around the base-camp itself and even sighted a few blue sheep nearby.

Over the next few days we split into three teams of three each and systematically surveyed every side valley and plateau. The first couple of days our team comprising of Sushil, Kalzang Pulzor and myself surveyed the areas around Lakshithang (4560m) and Saktichen (4530m). During these days we would cross the Kuli la (4880m) every day to reach the survey area but it was worth the effort as we encountered over 100 blue sheep in this region. We surveyed the area up to Chaksachen La (5230m) beyond this we knew that the habitat was not very conducive for any mammal. While our team toiled up to Kuli la-Saktichen and back every day other teams fought their way to high pastures of Sheru (4500m), ‘Uhlshipo ruins’ and Syarma la (4767m). During the day all three teams would head out with GPS and notebook in hand but come evening we would huddle together in the tiny camp and share the days experience. The tiny camp and the huddling helped us stay warm.

The last area to be surveyed was the Syarma nala. We decided to survey it on our way back. The day we wrapped up from Phiphuk our team broke camp early and headed for Syarma nala. We had the huge task of covering the whole Syarma nala in one day. Effectively it meant walking over 35 km in a day. The distance felt even longer in the thin air and cold at that altitude. By evening we were proud of what we had done. We had surveyed the whole area and confirmed the presence of at least 108 blue sheep in that area. But the biggest prize of the day was to encounter pugmarks of a mother and cub snow leopard.

Blue sheep

Late evening the three of us reached the place that the others had chosen for the days camp. It was a tiny cave along the frozen river and a little sand bank separating the river from the cave mouth. Tired with a hard days work Sushil, Kalzang and me were the first to get into our sleeping bags. But soon the tiny cave became suffocating and claustrophobic; partly because there were ten of us trying to squeeze inside the tiny cave. Finally Sushil and I gave up; we picked up our sleeping bags and came under the stars on the sand bank. The sky was clear and the night extremely cold. We spread our sleeping bags next to the frozen river and tried to sleep. It was the coldest night of my life. I dozed on and off but couldn’t sleep. I watched the stars drift by softly. ‘Cygnus’ – The Swan, ‘Pegasus’, ‘Andromeda’, ‘Taurus’-The Bull, ‘Orion’-the Hunter all the star constellations passed by slowly. I kept wishing that a snow leopard would pass by but even if it did I wouldn’t have seen it in the dark. And then there was a faint glow in the eastern sky. While it was still soft glow Kalzang brew some tea. We all sat around the cooking fire huddled together discussing the night. When suddenly we heard a movement. All of strained our eye to see what made the sound; secretly wishing it to be a snow leopard. It was a stone marten, a great sighting nevertheless. In fact all of us had seen the snow leopard more number of times than a stone marten. Although stone martens are common in other parts of the world they are relatively rare here. It was only my second time. A great farewell from Lingti. The next day we came back to Lalung.

'Orion'-The Hunter

During the survey, together we encountered hundreds of snow leopard pugmarks, scrapes and feces. Based on the signs, we cannot estimate the number of snow leopards but we could conclusively say that there was a healthy population of snow leopards in the valley. Also there seemed to be a healthy prey base for the snow leopard based on the good population of the blue sheep. We encountered over 350 blue sheep (counted without repetition). We also came across more than 10 carcasses of blue sheep killed by snow leopards. Throughout the survey we never encountered signs of Tibetan wolves. Although a few people from Lalung said that they had, in the past, seen wolves inside the Lingti Valley, I was skeptical of these reports as the habitat in much of Lingti is not suitable for an open country species such as wolf. Apart from a healthy prey-predator system (snow leopard-blue sheep) we also encountered other smaller mammals such as the red fox, woolly hare, pika and the very rare stone marten.

Woolly hare

The survey information and our interaction with the villagers of Lalung formed the core of the management plan for this region. Lingti promises to be the long-term future for the survival of the snow leopard and other rare wildlife of the high Himalaya. The villagers of Lalung also take pride in being the guardians of Lingti. All throughout it was a satisfying experience to unfold the mysteries of the Lingti Valley.

Sushil and Thukten II with evidence of blue sheep presence

by Rishi Kumar Sharma

(Rishi is in field at the moment with little access to email and I am posting this on his behalf)

It was a usual summer morning at Spiti; the first rays of the sun were illuminating the tops of the lofty mountain peaks as if pouring vermillion over the ridgelines. Still cuddled in my sleeping bag with a chilly breeze slapping my face, I was not sure if I wanted to leave the cozy warmth and start out for the day. However the increasing brightness at the eastern horizon seemed to be making a silent promise for a warm, bright and sunny day. Oblivious of these human dilemmas a snow leopard had been slowly and deftly stalking its prey somewhere in the mountains. In an hour I was out in the mountains with my team of the high altitude program at NCF. Soon we sighted an all male group of 36 blue sheep on a ridgeline basking and enjoying the warmth of the morning sun.

A few males had very large re-curved horns and Sushil (our field coordinator) took no time in passing the verdict that they would not survive the winters as they were too old and weak and would soon find themselves on the plate of a hungry snow leopard.  We watched the group for half an hour; the males were very content with their present activity and did not appear to give any importance to our presence. I moved a bit closer and took a picture; a beautiful moment in the mountainous canvass of nature was now captured forever in my camera. Moving on we came across another small group of blue sheep, two females, this time perched on a steep slope much above us. I had always envious of the ability of my field assistants to spot animals that to me look like mere specks without the aid of binoculars. Since we were in a rugged terrain, we were hopeful of seeing a few Ibex as well. Another hour of search did not lead us to any Ibex, but suddenly I spotted a few vultures (Himalayan griffons) in the mountains about a mile away. Vultures are almost a sure sign of a snow leopard kill and thus filled with excitement and expectation, we headed in their direction. Soon we reached a flat mountain base which had a few “dongri’s” (summer camps for agriculture) scattered around. From here we could gain a clear view of the hillside that seemed to be bustling with vultures mainly Himalayan Griffons.

From our binoculars we could see a kill, but could not clearly make out what exactly it was. Sushil was soon out of the group, chatting with the people at the “dongri” and he signaled to me to come over. The young lad there was eloquently narrating interesting anecdotes. He and his father had arrived at the fields early in the morning and the boy had seen a snow leopard sitting very close to a dead horse. Excited, he called up his father and both of them climbed up to the area to where the snow leopard was. The snow leopard however refused to budge from his place until these people reached very close and made a lot of noise, shouting and screaming at the beautiful cat. At this, the cat retreated slowly and unwillingly and vanished into the mountains.

However, I must point out that these people did not mean any harm to the cat. Even the people who have lived all their life in the mountains seldom get to see this mysterious cat. Hence they were probably very excited at having seen one at such a close distance and could not resist the temptation to get closer. I could also see from their expressions that they were probably a little scared to having moved in so close to the cat and since they explained everything to me in such a detail I had little reasons to doubt them. When I was told that the animal had only a short stump instead of a full grown tail, I knew it was “Cut tail” and this area was a part of his large home range. Only a few days back I had captures of “Cut tail” in one of my camera traps. There were some cliffs about 500 meters from the kill site and I was sure that the cat might be hiding somewhere there watching us and its prey which the vultures were now gorging upon. I took out my binoculars and Sushil and I set out to scan the mountains.

There was no sign of the cat. The cliffs though were good as a vantage point, they afforded little protection or hiding place for the snow leopard and we concluded that the cat would have moved to the other side of the mountains due to constant presence of humans. By now a group of labourers had also arrived to repair a water channel and with that my hope of the cat returning to the kill in broad daylight faded away. I decided to go and inspect the kill and climbed up to the site. It was a young horse in prime health and must have been 3-4 years old.

There was no hiding place or cover from the kill to the cliffs and I began wondering how much time and energy the cat would have invested in stealthily approaching close enough to its quarry to make the kill in such an open space. From here I could put the pieces of the puzzle together. The snow leopard would have had to spent a lot of time and energy first to come close enough to the horse and then to bring it down. The neck bite of two neat canines was fairly clear and a bone had been pulled out of the throat. Tired and exhausted the snow leopard must have been resting before it could start feeding, when it got disturbed by people and had to leave. There were no signs of feeding by the snow leopard and its unwillingness to leave even when approached at a close distance by people were a clear indication of the fact that it had not managed to eat the horse it would have struggled to bring down.

I decided to return to the field camp to fetch my camera traps. I was sure that a hungry snow leopard would return to its kill if not in broad daylight, then definitely in the dark of the night. When I returned with the cameras four hours later, the vultures had finished the kill and only bones remained with a few thin layers of meat still clinging to them. After setting up a few cameras; camouflaged and strategically placed, we returned to the mountain base, requesting the people there not to make too much of a noise and not to light up fires outside the hutments. The next morning I went up to check my camera traps.

There was no sign of snow leopard, no pugmarks, nothing. One set of tracks revealed that a red fox might have visited the kill. On returning to the base camp I hurriedly punched in the memory cards of the cameras into my computer and ran through some 3000 pictures that the camera had managed to record. I was still hoping that one of these three thousand must be a snow leopard. However that was not the case. A red fox had turned up at the kill sharp at 8:00 pm and stayed at the kill till 4:30 am, followed by the arrival of a Lammergeier vulture at 5:40 am which retreated with a big bone in its beak after probably being harassed by Red Billed Choughs. The cat that made the kill however did not return, hungry as it might have been, now forced to kill another prey, wild or domestic we do not know.