Rambles in the Darjeeling Terai: Tea Gardens and Jungles
If you take
the Mirik Road from Siliguri, you can go via Khaprail or take the route via the
Hill cart Road and then turn right across the Sukna Army Camp to the Mirik
Road. The road to Rohini branches off to the left as you continue towards the
looming hills. The Mirik Road passes through the village of Garidhura, which
has a fairly busy market and a pitstop for cars that are either descending or
ascending to the hills. The road runs
parallel though at a fair distance from the Balason River. The Marion Barie Tea Garden occupies the
space between the road and the Balason River, but not quite. Adjacent to the
River there is a dense patch of forest the so called Balason Forest. This
forest is home to myriad birds, hares, mongoose , the occasional leopard and,
very importantly, it is a thoroughfare for elephants who intend to cross the
Mechi river into Nepal.
The
afternoon was warm, unseasonably so, considering that it is just the third week
of March. While the mornings and evenings are still cool, even chilly
sometimes, the daytime sun has already become very hot indeed. We park the car
about 250 meters from the forest in a little used Tea garden track and walk
towards the forest. The forest is actually at a level about 50 feet below the
tea garden. possibly it is actually in what was once the flood plain of the
Balason. The Balason has drifted to the West, and the forest has reclaimed the
land. The forest is quite dense in parts, there are tall trees, simul and
various ficus species predominate. In other parts it is grassland, being grazed
by cows belonging no doubt to the tea garden workers.
We are
three of us, Avijan, Saravan our driver and myself. Avijan points out elephant
tracks: fortunately they are at least a few days old. It is clear that a batch
of them have crossed the tea garden and descended onto the forest patch and
subsequently crossed the Balason river.
There is a
fairly well kept track along the edge of the high land. We walk along the track
and begin to sight birds: a quintet of red naped ibis, black baza, various
drongos. Avijan shows us a beautiful but small waterhole. This, he says, is the
only source of water in the neighborhood and is frequented by elephants,
leopards and of course domestic cattle among others.
As we walk,
we can hear the peacock calling from a distance, the dusty track on which we
are walking shows tracks made by the peacock. There are, in addition, the
prints made by lapwings and hares as well. We meet a local tribal man; he is
carrying some dry branches probably for domestic use. He confirms to us that
there are no elephants now. A big lone tusker and recently crossed over to
Nepal, he confirms. We also hear a
motorcycle coming, it is a forest guard, known to Avijan. He stops his bike and
we chat a while. He also confirms that there are no elephants in the vicinity.
He says that he has spent the morning on firefighting duties and was now going
for a well earned lunch.
This is the
time for forest fires. Most of them are caused by poachers who use it to scare
small game like hares and the occasional barking deer to show themselves in a
panic and become easy prey. Other are because incautious bidi smokers drop
their still smoking bidis to the carpet of brown dried leaves that lie
underfoot. We now notice that there is a lot of smoke, it increases as we turn
back to travel northwards now.
The bird
sightings continue, nuthatches, a dollar bird, shikra, Himalayan buzzard and a
malkoha make themselves known. We reach the northern end of the tea garden.
Here the forest itself is the boundary
and beyond the tea bushes, the forest climbs towards the hills. Crossing from East to west along the edge of
the Forest patch is another road, this one descends to the Balason. The Balason
River is the prime target for sand miners, both legal and illegal. As we walk
down to the river bed we are crossed by three trucks in quick succession, one
loaded with sand and rocks from the river and the other two groaning under
loads of logs of wood. It is highly unlikely that the wood has been legally
obtained.
Now we can
see the fire. The dry leaves are ablaze and the fire has extended to the trunks
of some of the trees as well. The smoke is now quite thick, I am not sure what
is being done about this. We try to telephone the forest officers, there is no
signal here. However, it does seem that the fire has spent itself, hopefully it
will soon be spent.
We almost
trip over some blocks of concrete: we realise that they are graves. We can see
at least three of them. Some long-forgotten Muslims lie in peaceful slumber
that even the fire has not been able to disturb. We do not penetrate further.
There is the risk of running into elephants. We retreat to the high ground
again.
There are some interesting theories about the
forest fires that I hear. One is that they are set off so that poachers can
easily catch the panic-stricken wildlife as they try to escape the fire. But
what wildlife exists here? Some hares perhaps, an occasional barking deer. For
that, so much destruction! The other theory is more plausible. The fire when to
spreads to the roots of the tall trees that stand are responsible for weakening
them. This ensures that the next big storm will cause them to fall and the wood
can then be parceled off among the miscreants responsible. Perhaps after this
monsoon, this forest will be more scrub than jungle. That is the fate all along
the road to Mirik, at least in the plains. Tall trees are few and far between.
What remains are scrub, an occasional copse and fields full of lantana.
We have another important thing to do. We have
recently been gifted a camera trap, or to be more precise, Avijan has been
presented with two of them by a National Geographic team that he is working
with. We have plans to set it near the waterhole to check what sort of animals
arrive. We have already noted the waterhole and have now confirmed during our
walk that this is the only one in this patch of forest. It is small, about 15
meters across. The water is dark and does not look in the least inviting.
Shallow, the depth cannot be more than 2 feet at its deepest. I wonder if the
forest denizens will use this water for drinking?
But the muddy patch around the waterhole
clearly tells us the story of visits by multiple elephants and one pug mark,
much trampled upon, appears to be that of a leopard. This waterhole, uninviting
it may be to me, but is apparently much used by animals. There is a likely
small tree overlooking the waterhole, the advantage is that is covered by
creepers which have climbed up its reedy trunk. The camera fits well into its
trunk and the creepers cover most of it. We are not scared that any animal will
damage it, but the possibility of a human coming by (and the mud shows that
they often do) and deciding to help themselves to this instrument. We satisfy
ourselves that it would be difficult for anybody to see it unless they are
specifically looking for it and come away.
Now, to come back in a couple of days to see
what comes of it.
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