The loud rustling off to one side of the trail was undoubtedly emanating from a large animal. We could see some low branches in amongst the dense vegetation swaying with the pressure of a slow-moving body.
We stopped, my husband Alan shouldering our camera tripod and me my bird spotting scope as we peered at the greenery, trying to work out what was out there and whether it was coming our way.
Suddenly, a sapling tree shot up in the air and there was a distant bellow. Simultaneously, our jungle guide sprang into action, beckoning urgently and shouting “Run! Quickly! Run!”.
We had been doing some early morning birdwatching in the Western Ghats of the province of Kerala in southern India. With us we had a naturalist, Abhilash, and a local forest guide, Vinod, for our trip into the Idukki Wildlife Sanctuary. Until our pause it had been a steady stroll in a peaceful natural woodland filled with exotic birdsong. The rising sun was warming the air and bringing out the flutter and buzz of insects as well as birds. It had been an idyllic start to the day.
- "First, it crawled around on the roof. Then it started pushing and clawing at the windows..."
- "I was attacked by a swarm of wasps in a bamboo forest in South Korea. I still remember how fast I had to run."
Now, all of a sudden, we were seemingly running for our lives from we knew not what. Vinod led us off the track at speed and down a gully through tall trees. We zigzagged around tree roots and stumps, avoided clumps of scrubby bushes and snagging vine stems in a headlong pelt. All the while my mind raced with the possibilities of what was in pursuit and whether we could outrun it or avoid tripping and falling into its path.
We had just reached the bottom of the gully when the latter happened. I caught my toe on a root and, unbalanced by my rucksack and telescope, I went flying. Immediately, Abhilash and Vinod hauled me up with a hand under each arm, then took my equipment from me and pushed me on up the other side of the valley.
As I stumbled on, followed by Alan, Vinod began waving his arms violently up and down while screaming at the top of his voice over our shoulders. I turned and finally saw what was making him so afraid.
A large male elephant had paused at the bottom of the hill, ears up and trunk waving angrily as it swayed from side to side. Vinod’s intervention had clearly confused it momentarily, which gave us enough time to run up the hill and clear of the trees.
The guide’s strategy of taking us downhill through the forest had definitely been best to slow down our chaser, and his display of loud hysterics had also played a part.Certainly, and thankfully, the animal seemed to have decided to abandon the chase – presumably satisfied it had seen us off.
- "A bull elephant appeared from the bush. Ambling over to the carcass, the immense creature used his tactile trunk to gently caress the bones of his fallen comrade"
- "His small trunk and ears were free, but his rear-end was stuck fast in dark, oozing mud. He looked exhausted and must have been struggling for hours"
At the top of the hill we were greeted by a group of local villagers who fetched a chair and a bucket of water for me to wash the dirt off my hands from the fall. They were very concerned to be sure we were unhurt.
There was a good reason for their concern. Abhilash told us that around 20 people a year are killed by human-elephant conflict in Kerala. Habitats, and therefore food sources, for elephants have shrunk massively in the past 50 years and farmers react aggressively with stones and firecrackers to the animals that invade their crops.
In turn, the native wild elephants have come to associate people with pain and will attack without provocation if they catch a human’s scent in their forest. Given that they have a very sensitive sense of smell and are capable of running at about 25 miles per hour, even a relatively distant encounter is not to be taken lightly, let alone one occurring just off the side of the walking trail!
