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.

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.

I saw them for the first time as I was moving into my base camp. Very excited, I focused my binocular and observed them for some time. They seemed to be wondering around; not searching for anything specific. Soon they were gone and I was back setting up my camp which was to be home for the next five months. Little I knew that this red fox couple were to be my neighbours for this time.

That day onwards I kept seeing them around the camp; playing, sleeping or just strolling around. Although they spent most of their time together, or so it seemed, I never saw them eat together. One day a donkey died in the village, the carcass was left for the vultures and foxes. The carcass seemed enough for all the Himalayan griffons and the fox couple for at least a couple of days. But even then not for a minute were they together at what seemed like a food bonanza. A couple of times I did see them looking for voles together but I am not sure if they shared what they caught.

They must have been long time residents of this locality as all the blue sheep were very familiar with their ways. Often they walked right through the middle of the blue sheep herd and the sheep never raised a brow. When the fox and the sheep met eye to eye it seemed like a regular “Howdy partner” greeting.

Then one day I heard a ruckus outside my camp and I came out to find four foxes in the middle of what seemed like a fight unto death. I could recognize my neighbours as the newcomers had a much lighter coat. Soon it was clear that the local residents had the visitors on the run. The fight lasted over ten minutes and I assumed that it was over territory defence. I was surprised to find the couple defending their territory together when they wouldn’t even share their food.

My five months were soon over and I had to leave. It was the month of April and very soon their pups were to arrive but alas I could not wait to see them raise their young.

For those interested in science: The degree of Polygamy in the red fox decreases with reduced food availability. Along the coast of UK red fox are know to be monogamous during the El Nino years when the sea birds failed to nest (food scarcity). Spiti is likely to be one of the low resource availability areas and thus the red fox here seem to be monogamous.