The wobbly toddler was uneasy, often getting under the mother’s protective bulk of one-and-a-half tonne when it sensed danger lurking in the tall, swaying elephant grass. The mother, seeing the nervousness of her calf, stopped, cast a probing glance on either side, and sniffed the air frequently. Satisfied that it was just a rooting boar rummaging through the undergrowth that had made the rustling noise, the mother rhino continued with her lumbering trudge, with the nervous calf sticking to her side.

It was still dark when we hopped onto the big domesticated elephant, Joymoti, in Kohora Range of Kaziranga National Park. The late-night January chill rattled us to the bones. The waning moon, with its fading glow, was making a final descent behind the Burhapahar hills. A thick cloak of mist floating over the jungle further impeded our vision. What, however, acted to our advantage was that the animals of Kaziranga, especially herbivores, are not as reticent as their counterparts in most other jungles of Assam and hence less elusive. The greater tourist flow to Kaziranga has probably made these animals more used to human presence. The sheer number of wildlife in Kaziranga — it has the highest concentration of several animals in the country — is another reason why the tourist is rarely disappointed.

Scarcely had we gone a hundred yards through the thick elephant grass into an opening when we bumped into a herd of wild buffaloes. About a dozen of them were there, looking more like shadowy apparitions than animals in the mist. A few of them stood idly and the rest lay on the ground. True to Kaziranga’s reputation, they seemed little perturbed by our approach and allowed us to advance closer. But there is obviously a limit beyond which even the friendliest of the denizens of Kaziranga would not tolerate human intrusion. As some overenthusiastic tourists tried to venture too near for the animals’ comfort, the herd dashed into the jungle, their thundering hooves shattering the predawn silence of the forest.

Gradually the shroud of haze gave way to the first rays of the morning sun which emerged as a fiery orange ball. As the fog melted, a serene landscape started to unfold, enabling us to have a view of the jungles surrounding us on all sides. It was a flat terrain dominated by elephant grass and interspersed with patches of undergrowth where the herbivores fed. Marshes of various sizes — so essential for big herbivores like rhino, buffalo and elephant as also Kaziranga’s famed avian population — dotted the landscape. At some distance towards the north were dense woods but that was not in the safari’s route.

Along with the beautiful landscape, the crack of dawn opened up before our eyes the bountiful and diverse wildlife thriving in its concealed depths. In a mere half an hour, we encountered different animals, and in large numbers. The ubiquitous rhino appeared virtually from everywhere — much to the delight of the tourists on elephant back who generally come here to see this endangered, prehistoric looking animal. Among the many we saw were very young calves with mothers. Our mahout, a man well-versed in jungle lore, pointed to a calf which he said was just five-day-old. Notwithstanding their friendly demeanour, the mahout advised us against venturing too close to mother rhinos with calves, as they are known to make threatening charges at approaching elephants. Kaziranga’s present rhino population of 2,048 testifies to a saga of conservation success, given that less than a dozen rhinos inhabited Kaziranga when it was declared a proposed reserve forest by the British in 1905.

The omnipresent rhino apart, hog deer, swamp deer, elephant and buffalo were the animals that we encountered in plenty. As if poetry in motion, a big herd of swamp deer bounded off into the jungle, apparently disturbed by some lurking carnivore. There was this huge elephant crossing the jungle road in regal, measured steps. A pair of mother and baby rhinos continued to graze in idyllic solitude. A lone buffalo with an enormous span of the horns and without any sense of time wallowed lazily in the mud. These are but a few of the lingering images of Kaziranga that I will carry with me forever.

In the afternoon we opted for a jeep safari at Bagori Range. It was a quiet and pleasant drive along the narrow jungle road. Among the animals we saw were deer, buffaloes, a lone elephant helping itself to a rather noisy afternoon meal, and varieties of birds. Our sojourn included a stop at the Donga beel, a large water-body that is home to a number of water birds, both resident and migratory that feed on the beel’s perennial supply of fish. Kaziranga has an enviable avian population with over five hundred species — the second highest for the country after Corbett National Park — recorded so far. From atop the tower we saw birds — some in the water and others circling above looking for an unsuspecting prey. The glistening silvery backs of big chitol fish as they surfaced and turned and twisted in the water made an appealing sight.

As we made our way back leaving the jungle behind, our hearts were heavy with a nameless feeling. A feeling that emanates when you communicate with the soothing yet mystifying ways of nature.

sivathakur@gmail.com

Sivasish Thakur