Where Maharajahs Once Hunted, Indians Now Strive to Save the Tigers

In the early light of dawn, near the old banyan tree, there is cause for excitement.

Just 10 paces from the old palace converted into a lodge, is the deep impression of a tiger’s body, molded into the soft dust that carpets the ground.

The cook’s young helper is the first to bring the news.

“Mummy, tiger last night. Come,” he says, tugging on Elizabeth Forster’s arm as he urges her outside.

Near the centuries-old tree, whose long branches brush the ground, Forster not only sees the tiger’s outline, but the large paw marks imprinted along the dirt road.

This, indeed, is a good omen. Surely we will spot a tiger this morning.

There are five of us gathered outside the small lodge inside Ranthambhor National Park, once the hunting grounds for the maharajahs of Jaipur. Today it is a densely covered area of rolling hills in northwest India where some 45 tigers roam across 135 square miles.

We waited for our Jeep to take us down the dusty roads that crisscross the park like spider webs. Forster was particularly keen to see a tiger. Since the early 1970s, the 80-year-old Englishwoman has visited the park almost every year, rarely missing the opportunity to spot one of the majestic big cats.

Sheffi, our driver, pulled up and we piled into the vintage olive-green Jeep. In the crisp morning air, we drove deeper into the park where sambar, a large Asiatic deer that resembles elk, placidly munched on grass near one of the lakes. Several chital, an Asiatic spotted deer, drew together, giving us a timid stare from the thick, tall grass.

We were cautioned not to step out of the Jeep for safety’s sake although there has been no incident of tigers attacking vehicles.

From time to time, tiger tracks were visible along the road, which we followed farther and farther into the park. Our eyes were turned toward the bushes in hope of spotting a distinct striped form.

As we rounded a corner, we saw standing in the middle of the road a dark man with a long, navy-blue coat and a red stocking cap.

“Hello, Mr. Tiger,” Forster called out. “Are we going to see a tiger this morning?”

The man, slowly walking down the road, was one of the park’s two official tiger spotters.

“Perhaps,” he said, pointing to more tracks. Then he growled like a tiger and screamed like a wounded chital. Forster laughed, and “Mr. Tiger” jumped into the back of the open-air Jeep to help with our search.

We followed the road, dipping down into cool valleys, passing ancient Hindu temples and inching around grass-covered knolls.

Suddenly, a langur perched in a tree screeched a warning signal. Other monkeys on the ground banded together, searching for the invisible threat. We waited.

Minutes ticked by, seeming like hours. Still nothing.

The sun was rising higher, pushing the sweet, cool dawn towards morning. Someone likened the tiger search to a game of hide-and-seek. We were warm, but we weren’t hot. It was time to return to the lodge.

Ranthambhor National Park is eight miles from the town of Sawai Madhopur in the desert state of Rajasthan, about a six-hour drive southwest of New Delhi. It is one of several reserves established in 1973 when the Indian government became concerned about the dwindling tiger population.

The effort to save the tiger began none too soon. In 1900 there were about 40,000 tigers in India. By 1972, that number had shrunk to 2,000, many scattered groups too small to maintain themselves, let alone multiply. Much of their habitat was being taken away by farmers, industrialists and timber companies.

In 1972, the Indian government made a last-minute decision to outlaw tiger hunting and help save the nearly extinct animals. With the help and money of the World Wildlife Fund, Nepal and India agreed to set aside biological preserves intended to conserve the secretive and elusive creature, as well as save wild ecosystems. The premise was that nature would repair itself if left alone.

WWF money was used to buy wireless sets, vehicles and weapons to fight poachers.

India started with nine preserves, Ranthambhor being one of them. Today there are 17, with India’s tiger population having grown to about 4,000.

When India gained its independence from Great Britain in 1947, Ranthambhor passed from the hands of the Maharajah of Jaipur to the Rajasthan Forest Department. But the maharajah maintained the right to hunt on the property until 1971.

Consequently, Ranthambhor only had 14 tigers when it was made a preserve in 1973. Fateh Singh Rathore, the first field director, said that in those days, you could go for months without glimpsing a tiger.

Today, the current field director, Jawant Singh Nathawat, says there are about 45 tigers and the preserve is nearing capacity.

“The problem we are now facing is tourism,” he said. “The tourists have reached the maximum capacity, not the tigers.”

Nathawat said that last year, 14,000 tourists visited the preserve, which was declared a national park in 1983. Some 10,000 of those visitors were Indians. The rest were foreigners.

The park was relatively obscure until a few years ago when Rajiv Gandhi, India’s former prime minister, visited the area and helped thrust it into the limelight.

Park officials now cope with the increased tourist traffic by limiting to nine the number of Jeeps that can wander along five designated routes, from 7 a.m. to 10 a.m. or 3 p.m. to sunset.

Accommodations are limited, too. The park, surrounded in sections by huge medieval walls, has only one small lodge on its premises--the Jogi Mahal Forest Resthouse. Four other hotels are in and around Sawai Madhopur.

Once a small palace, the two-story Jogi Mahal houses six large rooms whose French doors open onto a veranda overlooking a large lake. While afternoon tea is being served, you can watch the crocodiles slither into the water and see rose-ringed parrots swoop overhead.

Since there is no electricity, dusk is announced with the lighting of kerosene lanterns, whose flames dot the stucco-walled rooms like fireflies. You can spend the evening on the veranda--swatting mosquitoes, waiting for sambar and chital to approach the lake and listening to frogs croak a cacophonous symphony. Later, dinner is served downstairs in the dining room.

Looming over all this, high on a nearby hillside, is Ranthambhor Fort, an enormous medieval city surrounded by massive walls, towers and bastions. Inside are the remains of palaces, army barracks, Hindu and Jain temples, and an arsenal of old cannons.

This city, which dates from the 9th Century, was at its peak of glory during the reign of the powerful Chauhan ruler, Hamir, who ascended to the throne of Ranthambhor in 1282. It was conquered by Ala-ud-din Kahlji in 1301 after a year’s siege. After its capture, the fortified city was sacked by the Muslim victors, who destroyed most of its buildings.

The walled city is not only fascinating for its untouched ruins, but for its bird’s-eye view of the park. Two members of our party, avid bird-watchers, climbed atop the city’s walls with binoculars.

When they returned for lunch, they were alive with excitement.

“Did you see any interesting birds?” we asked.

“No, but we saw an interesting four-legged animal with stripes,” said Han, a Belgian schoolteacher.

“Oh, you saw a tiger,” Forster said, clapping her hands.

Tired of looking for birds, Han and his friend, Chris, had aimed their binoculars toward the wildlife preserve. After waiting patiently, they finally saw a tiger strolling across a grassy field near the park’s entrance. The animal then disappeared into the brush.

We hoped the tiger was still around that afternoon when Sheffi returned. We set off down the road in a different direction, passing herds of sambar and chital. Near the lake, two male sambars locked horns and nudged each other back and forth, initiating a dance that signals the beginning of rutting season.

We paused to watch a troop of partridge waddle down the road. The sharp cry of a peacock pierced the warm air.

Around the bend, a flock of geese landed and took off from a lake with the grace of ballet dancers. But there was still no sign of a tiger.

We saw a group of Jeeps hovering around a field blanketed with high, brown grass. We zoomed toward them, waited a while, but saw nothing.

Then we rumbled through a narrow chasm, twisting left and right before we saw the tail end of a Jeep scurrying down the road. Ahead of the Jeep was another Jeep, rolling slowly to a stop.

A sleek, muscular tiger was sauntering down the middle of the road. It meandered off the thoroughfare and into a field where it plopped down, yawned, and ever so nonchalantly began to groom itself, licking every inch of its front legs while cameras clicked furiously and smiles blossomed on faces all around.

After a few minutes, the tiger stretched and rolled on its back, then returned to its feet and wandered into the hills, oblivious to the excitement it had caused.

Where Tigers Roam Free

How to get there: Lufthansa (800-645-3880), United (800-241-6522) and Pan Am (800-221-1111) offer weekly or twice-weekly flights from Los Angeles to New Delhi. Round-trip air fare is about $1,500.

Ranthambhor National Park is 240 miles southwest of New Delhi. Trains run every day from New Delhi to Sawai Madhopur. The trip takes about seven hours and costs approximately $40. Jeeps meet passengers at the train station to take them to the park, which is eight miles outside town.

Accommodations: The Jogi Mahal Resthouse is the best place to stay because it’s the only one inside the park. Although it has no electricity, kerosene lanterns provide ample light and a colonial ambience. The lodge, on a lake with crocodiles, has only six rooms and costs $25 a day, including three good meals. For reservations, write Field Director, Ranthambhor National Park, Sawai Madhopur, India.

Lodging in Sawai Madhopur includes the Anurag Hotel (about $20 per night) and the Maharaja Lodge ($80).

Tour groups: These tour groups offer side trips to Ranthambhor National Park as part of their India packages: Travcoa, P.O. Box 2630, Newport Beach 92658, (800) 992-2004 (within California) or (714) 476-2800, and Design Travel & Tours, 370 W. Butterfield Road, Suite 2A, Elmhurst, Ill. 60126, (800) 543-7164.

For more information: Contact the Government of India Tourist Office, 3550 Wilshire Blvd., Suite 204, Los Angeles 90010, (213) 380-8855.