The Man Killing Leopards of Nagrakata, Part 3

At dusk in Kalabari Tea Garden, doors now close earlier than they once did. Fires burn longer in courtyards. Mothers call children indoors before the light thins into grey. Conversations pause when dogs bark. Across narrow mud roads, beyond bamboo fences and tin-roofed labour lines, the tea bushes stand quiet and waist-high. Somewhere within that green geometry, unseen, something moves. The Dooars — from duar, meaning “doorway” — stretch across the Himalayan foothills, forming the gateway to Bhutan and India’s Northeast. From the Teesta River in the west to the Sankosh River in the east, this is a landscape of transition: floodplains giving way to sal forest, braided rivers cutting through grassland, tea estates spreading across gently undulating terrain. Protected areas such as Gorumara National Park, Jaldapara National Park and Buxa Tiger Reserve anchor the region’s conservation map. Yet between them lies a vast working landscape — tea gardens, revenue land, riverbeds and small settlements — through which wildlife continues to move. Among the rivers that bind these habitats is the Diana River. In the monsoon it swells, flooding highways and altering its banks; in winter it retreats into quiet channels, exposing expanses of stone and sand. Its seasonal shifts subtly reshape animal movement, pushing wildlife across embankments and into plantation edges. Elephants traverse these corridors. Gaurs, deer and wild boar follow. And so do leopards. 

 Leopards are not new to the tea belt of North Bengal. For decades they have occupied this mosaic landscape, adapting with characteristic flexibility. Unlike tigers, which require larger contiguous forests, leopards tolerate fragmentation. Waist-high tea bushes offer cover. Drainage channels and culverts provide denning spaces. Feral dogs and livestock form a ready prey base. Workers have long known that a leopard may be resting in a section. Estate managers speak of periodic sightings. Cubs are occasionally discovered during pruning seasons. Most encounters end in alarm, sometimes injury, rarely death. This uneasy coexistence has persisted for generations. But over the past year, in the Nagrakata–Banarhat belt, that equilibrium appears to have frayed. Within roughly ten square kilometres, four children have been killed in leopard attacks. Another narrowly survived. The clustering — more than the raw numbers — has unsettled even seasoned forest officials.

The Diana River at Dusk 

It took us more than two months to return to the Nagrakata area to continue our investigation. Since then, one more attack has occurred. Fortunately, in this case the victim escaped with her life, but the disturbing attacks are still continuing. Is it one leopard which has turned vicious or will this now be a constant feature of leopard human interactions in this region? It is January 8th, a cool winter day. It has been colder this year than some of the previous ones, temperatures have dropped to levels that we have not seen in recent times. Our plan today is to first visit the family of the girl who survived the attack. This attack has also taken place in the Eastern Bank of the Diana River, not too far away from the places we visited the last time. Later we will cross to the Western side of the Diana and visit the Khaerkata area to meet the families of the other victims. ° When we left Siliguri it was foggy, the fog cleared as we reached Gazaldoba. The sun began to break through the clouds and as we reached Odlabari, it was bathing the Dooars, albeit a little weakly. As I mentioned earlier it is much colder than usual this year. Temperatures have dropped to 8 ° C in Siliguri; in the Dooars it is much colder. After a pit stop at Chalsa for tea and samosas, we travel to Banarhat, where Ardhendu, our local contact awaits us. We turn right from the highway at the Banarhat crossing and drive South, the Totatpara Tea Garden to our left and the Ganderpara Tea Garden to our right. Further along the Totapara Tea garden is now on both sides of the road. Later we come to the Mongalkata Tea Estate which appears to have been abandoned and scrub jungle has grown up beside the tea bushes, creating ideal habitat for the leopard. Finally, we reach the Kalabari Tea Garden, which is now familiar to us. This garden as we have earlier noted is well run, the tea bushes well-tended, the hospital white washed and functioning. We note that nets have been installed, isolating the labour line where Ayub had been taken into the adjacent tea garden. We drive past the canteen in the general direction of the Diana River reaching another dirt road to the labour lines. Here they grow grass, which is useful staff to thatch their houses. The forest is visited by elephants every evening , we are told. The victim who survived the attack was Partika Oraon. The locals pointed out her house to us and we entered their homestead. The set up was that of atypical labour cottage in a tea garden. There was a central courtyard and all around were houses, her own and that of her relatives scattered around. The courtyard led to a tard of sorts, overrun with vegetation. The whole was enclosed by a bamboo fencing. . The fencing, we learnt later, was new. It had been erected after the incident. Beyond the fencing a little river gurgled. This, they told us, was the Jhumait River. On its other bank were tree bushes, slightly unkempt. Patrika lives with her parents, Rammum and Purnima Oraon. She was attacked on the 17th December, 2025. It was about 6/30 PM. At this time of the year, it is quite dark by then. A small fire had been lit in the courtyard. Her grandmother was nearby as was one of her younger siblings. Her little sister heard a rushing noise and heard, rather than saw, the leopard bounding away and her sister missing. She shouted out and other family members came running. They chased the leopard to the river. As it happened, two young lads were at the riverside. They had a torch and its beam showed the leopard standing midriver holding the struggling child. As soon as the light fell on it, the leopard dropped the girl and vanished into the tea bushes on the other side. The two boys then waded into the river and helped to bring Patrika back home. Amando Oraon was one of the two boys who rescued the child. He says ”as I took her in my arms, the leopard looked back at me, but then disappeared among the bushes “. She was taken to the Tea Garden Hospital, where, after first aid, she was shifted to the Banarhat Primary Health Center and subsequently to the Malbazar Hospital. Here she recovered from her wounds and was discharged on the 8th day. 

The landscape 

 The leopard was estimated to be about 3 feet high and was apparently seen later in the camera trap that the Forest Department installed in the area. The locals feel that it is still in the region. They have heard its calls a few days ago. A second leopard was also spotted sitting on the opposite side of the rivulet some time ago. The Forest Department had laid traps in the vicinity and on the 4th January, a leopard was captured and taken away. The family agrees that the Forest Department helped them as much as possible. They paid all costs of the treatment and organised transport to take her to the hospital and to shift her to Malbazar. One forest official still visits them every day to check on them. On the Western side of the road that leads to their house is the forested patch that we mentioned earlier. Beyond it is the Diana River, now with little water. In some places, pools have formed, which are swarming with little fish shoals all being eyed by cormorants and kingfishers which seem to having rich pickings. The forest patch is full of Kul trees (Ziziphus mauritiana) also known as the Indian Jujube tree, they are now laden with fruit. Our next destination is across the river, the Khaerkata Forest and its adjacent forest villages.