Bandipur: a surprise at every turn

4(15) The jeep ground to a halt and the engine was killed, abruptly leaving us with the lush silence of the forest. An unseen flame-back called. And then we heard it – a branch broken, intermittent noises coming progressively closer, the thud of logs or stones being dislodged, and the crack of six-inch boles being snapped effortlessly.

The Monsoon and a Hundred Stories

4(15) “Can you hear that, madam?” Basavanna, our naturalist, turned around in his front seat and whispered. I strained my ears, not unlike the spotted deer we had seen some time back. The jungle seemed still, the cicadas having ceased their incessant song for the moment. I wondered what I should be hearing – a warning call, or perhaps some animal making its way towards us, unseen.