Rendezvous in Pench National Park

WALKING through open fields we pass majestic trees laden with buds, which will soon open up into the succulent blooms so loved by bears. Once the blooms drop, the bears from the nearby woods will gorge themselves on these sweet fleshy fermenting petals and get intoxicated. They are at the most dangerous. As we enter the dry, winding riverbed that flanks the forest luckily, no bears are seen by us.

We are at the Bagh Van camp, at the very border of the jungle at Pench national park hotels, Madhya Pradesh, escaping from pollution, the dust and noise of urban life. Pench, 92 km from Nagpur, is a National Park unsullied by hordes of plastic littering city dwellers and opened to visitors a little over 2 years past, and as a result unspool.

As we walk along the stream bed in a dark tunnel created by overhanging trees, I 'm conscious that tigers, panthers and other game walk on this same sandy ground after dark to get to the pool of water farther on. I reassure myself that it's still another hour to sundown!

Entrance into the forest is prohibited, but we cross over to a trail along the periphery, previous Teak, Saaja, Mahua, and Flame of the Forest trees. Youthful Garari trees line the trail with their end of season leaves hanging like gold disks. This is early March and there is golden on the trees, which have started shedding their leaves to welcome springtime with their fresh green offerings. We walk on a carpet of brown and amber and as we crunch the leaves underfoot, the slanting beams of the setting sun add their gold to the forest. The aroma of mango blossoms scents the air.

He whispers that a tiger or panther must be really close, as we climb down the bank to the riverbed. Heart beating wildly, I follow him down the sandy bed towards the pool. We tread carefully in a vain effort to prevent crackling leaves underfoot. We stop about 20 yards from the pool as the alarm call again rings out, seemingly only several yards away on the left where the forest starts.

How close we were, became evident the next morning. The naturalist identified the panther that was fresh tracks very near where we had been standing. Whether they were made just before we reached, or after we left, was unclear. If after, then the panther was but a few yards away as we stood on the riverbank and, and waited for us to leave before going to the pool to drink. If before, then she (the naturalist felt it was a female) had finished drinking and hidden in the shrubs. Either way, she'd not been far away, since the Sāmbhar continued phoning after we reached the place.

The next evening we walk along a route that is different. We hear chital alarm calls, which are quite distinct from the honk of the Sāmbhar the night before, as we reach the forest border. But they are some distance away and we return to the camp in the gathering darkness. We just take a seat to a hot cup of tea when we hear the alarm call replicated - just much nearer now, coming from the forest on our right. The alarm call continues intermittently as I return to our cottage to change into a long sleeved shirt against the evening chill.

The youngster following the naturalist, a local familiar with wildlife, was quite keen to go into the woods after it. But wiser counsel prevailed. Then following it could be dangerous, if the panther had cubs with her. The next morning, paths by the pool again supported a medium sized panther's presence.

The alarm calls continue for a little while after their return, but stop Pench national park hotels. As we sit around the campfire with beverages, the chat is about panther sightings and other tiger close to the camp. It is a moonlit night, but every rustle from the dark bushes around us appears pregnant with menace. Because panthers are understood to climb trees, periodically we sweep the trees with a flashlight.