Bone-dry and ash grey, Nagarhole in the summertime appears too hostile to assist any shape of existence. I wonder how something survives here, surveying the leafless axle wood and beak bushes from an open-sided Bolero? Stillness hangs in the air. Suddenly, a branch cracks and a lady elephant calf appears. She appears at us and emits a low rumble. “I assume there is another one,” Shanmuga Kumar, the naturalist from Evolve Back Kuruba Safari Lodge, whispers. A second, visibly older calf seems from the timber on the opposite facet of the pathway as if on cue. “Rhoton,” she booms, closing the gap between herself and the toddler with purposeful strides.
“Did you notice that?” Kumar says excitedly. “The older calf responded to the infant’s call. Elephants have an acute feeling of hearing. They can detect a rumble from over a kilometer away.” It’s a fitting beginning to our morning safari inside the Nagarhole National Park, which boasts one of the world’s largest congregations of Asian elephants in summer. The mixed deciduous teak wooded area stretching across Karnataka is part of the protected region complex comprising the Bandipur National Park, Wayanad Wildlife Sanctuary, and Mudumalai National Park. The environment here helps the best density of herbivores—noticed deer, barking deer, sambars, gaurs, elephants, wild pigs, etc.—anywhere in Asia.
“During the hot, dry summer months, the animals continue to exist by using debarking bushes and timber for nourishment so that they don’t want to journey a long way for meals, unlike in Africa,” Kumar explains.
Thanks to the abundance of prey, the jungle is domestic to tigers, leopards, dholes, and wolves and has one of the maximum predator-prey ratios in India. It’s additionally the hang-out of the well-known black panther, the elusive melanistic leopard that silently stalks these elements, incomes the moniker “ghost of Nagarhole.”
The changing landscape is fascinating, combining wet and dry deciduous wooded areas. As we roll via the gentle slopes and shallow valleys, coarse, dry stretches provide a way to forest land and open grassy swamps called handles. Up in advance, we stumble upon herds of chital stags. The noticed deer appear to glide on the ground, their twisty antlers on an extraordinary show for mating season. A stripe-necked mongoose scurries in the direction of its burrow. A second later, a roller takes off, flaunting tremendous blue plumage.
As the solar beats down, we head to a waterhole, hoping to catch a few massive cat actions. The driver cuts the engine only some toes away from a small Taraka lake. A vacationer spots something. “Look!” he says as we comply with where his finger is pointing. Then, we grab our digital binoculars and see three tiger cubs in the bushes across the water. Oblivious to our presence, they paw each different’s heads, blissed out in their little Eden. It’s a heart-melting finale to our morning safari; we enjoy all the riches as we are through ourselves. On safaris somewhere else, while somewhere is spotted, the information spreads like wildfire, mainly to an avalanche, especially automobiles screeching in. Mercifully, there aren’t any dust-encumbered flurries here. With most eleven Jeeps accredited throughout its two tourism zones, Nagarhole seems nicely off the beaten course, handing over the huge cats sans the din of better-recognized parks like Bandhavgarh and Ranthambore.
