Recording of ‘Indian Jungle Dawn’, pt.3
Feb 29th, 2008 by andrew skeoch
Back at the ‘Bison Room’, a busload of Indian picnickers has arrived out front, and any peace is shattered by the excited screams of children and a boombox Bollywood soundtrack. The riverfront at Tikapada is a popular picnic spot, so we can anticipate more of this in the coming days.
Nearby, the Indian Forest Service has a captive breeding program for the Garial, or Indian river crocodile. Highly endangered, the Mahanadi has been recognised as one of the few remaining rivers where they can still be found. They are prehistoric-looking animals, with that curious little bump on the end of their snouts. We look at them lazing in their cages, and try and square this up with the vision of a crocodile infested river nearby.
At this point, the Mahanadi flows against the far bank, and a broad sandbank has formed below. We notice several of our picnickers now walking close to the water’s edge. As Australians, cautious of our saltwater crocodiles, it immediately occurs to us to be an unwise thing to do. A few hundred metres away however, we can see where a new tented tourist camp is being established on the sands. So maybe the crocs are not as numerous or dangerous as we imagine.
Walking back, we notice a delightful hand-painted visitor’s sign: “Be careful! Do not bend to touch water. A crocodile may shake hand with u!” So the mystery remains. Meanwhile, Sarah discovers the ladies’ latrine.
The following day, we return to our tributary junction, in hopes of getting some more sound from this magical location. I have about an hour of success, but shortly after sunrise we hear the first cyclists coming down the track through the forest, and decide to move on and explore further afield.
This becomes a day of exploring jungle tracks between one village area and the next, a frustrating exercise of following braided paths through fields and degraded forest. At one point we find some nice forest, but piles of still warm elephant dung convince us it is not a safe place to linger. In the late afternoon, we wind our way back to Tikapada, through rice-stubble fields grazed by docile cattle with accompanying Black Drongos perched atop their backs.
The following day is similarly unproductive. Roads become pathways and then fragment and disappear altogether. Shiva, we can tell, is becoming a bit tired of all this, and ever concerned about damage to his vehicle. But his desire to assist us is evident, and his good humour bolstered by the opportunity to a wash in a village irrigation channel.
Tomorrow is Sunday morning, and we plan to leave Satkosia for our next park; Kotagar in the hills to the south west. So we have one more morning at Satkosia. After our unproductive explorations, we are in a quandary. Where to spend our final morning? Then it occurs to us… Sunday, it will be a day off, the villagers may not be commuting. We could return to the tributary valley that has been the richest habitat we have found here.
Shiva is advised to be ready early, we leave at 5am.
does anyone knows if there is any other information about this subject in other languages?
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