Trumpets of the wild

During our years in the Nilgiris, time and again, we visited sanctuaries and wildlife reserves tucked into the greenfolds of the Blue Mountains. Upper Bhavani and Avalanche were favourite haunts, while Mudumalai was the most often visited due to proximity and convenience. Those were times when drives into the various avenues or roads within the sanctuary were permitted in one’s private vehicle, provided there was a forest guide to monitor your movements and lead you by practice and instinct to where the animals were. Ours also kept guard (under my polite entreaties) when the lensman got carried away by sights and sounds that were alluring and failed to tread cautiously into the unknown!

Well, do I remember that December morning, almost four decades ago, though I cannot quite recall whether it was in Manradiar Avenue, Sand Road, Kargudi, or somewhere in the Mavinahalla area? An open jeepload of rambunctious humans overtook our vehicle and noisily drove ahead of us into a forest area, compulsively slowing down only when the roads became more than a tad bumpy. A transistor blared film music, to which they whistled in accompaniment.

Soon we heard the gurgle of a jungle stream, and as we scanned the wildscape, we paused in excitement as we sighted a large herd of elephants on the other side of the stream. Tuskers, cow elephants, and calves were grazing, browsing, or quenching their thirst. The jeepload promptly reacted by waving a large bunch of bananas and taunting the pachyderms by bellowing and booing. Our driver promptly reversed and halted at a safe distance away from the Jeep.

Pliant yet power-packed trunks began to sway and trace patterns in the air for hostile scents. When the brouhaha refused to cease, the ears, hitherto plastered to the sides of the head of one irate tusker, a veritable colossus, fanned open, as if unfastened by a spring mechanism, and with a brassy trumpet, the animal plashed across the stream, heading for the jeep. Panic-stricken, the jeepload now screamed, moreso on realising that the vehicle had difficulty revving up the incline with the elephant gaining ground.

While I watched, I was paralysed with fear and tweaked a plea from the book of uncommon prayer. “Lord, have mercy on foolish derring-doers and those who revel in defiant devilry.” Our children took in every detail of the action-packed jungle drama, perhaps too young to envisage the possibility of a gory end. Patiently, we waited until the herd retreated into the rambling wild, leaving behind an ambience heavy with smouldering ire and disgruntled squeals.